needed to understand how she could help Fadia. ‘So do you want me to keep this Tom away?’
Fadia’s eyes widened. ‘Can you do that?’
‘Midwives are very good at screening people without upsetting them.’ Carmen shrugged. ‘Lots of times a mother’s labour is going slowly because of an inappropriate person in the birthing room.’ She grinned. ‘Like a scary mother-in-law or a friend she couldn’t say no to.’ She smiled. ‘We suggest they have some time out and they don’t get them back in until the mother asks us to.’ She spread her hands. ‘I could hold Tom off for you. But isn’t your cousin better for that?’
Fadia stroked the bed sheet with her fingers. ‘No. The situation could escalate more than I want’
A strange thing to say but Fadia’s fingers twisted and turned and Carmen held her tongue. ‘Or Zafar might do something to him.’
Carmen barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Oh, come on. This isn’t the Middle Ages.’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Okay. So, this Tom? Have you got a photo of him?’
Fadia thought for a moment and then nodded. She reached for her purse and removed a photo of a smiling couple, the woman Fadia.
‘Your husband?’ Fadia nodded. Carmen looked at the third person in the photo and there was something about him that reminded her of her ex. Carl. A hardness around his eyes, a sleaziness in his smile. She was good at picking that up now.
Fadia was shaking and Carmen felt for her. That was enough emotional drama for this exhausted mum. ‘Fadia. Can I borrow this? I’ll copy it and give my friend downstairs a copy. We’ll keep an eye out and and nobody will be hurt. But for now…’ she held the baby towards his mother ‘… we could get these boys fed because this little one is going to bring the roof down if he really gets going. And you’re not going to have time to worry about annoying Toms, or frowning Zafars, because these boys will keep you on your toes without them. And after that you get to rest.’
Fadia nodded and some of the strain left her face. ‘You’re right. Thank you.’
An hour later, when Carmen opened the door of Fadia’s room, a tall man in a flowing robe stood up from the chair at the end of the corridor and stared at her as she hesitated in the doorway. What was going on here?
Good grief. This was getting worse. She was guessing Zafar had put a guard on Fadia so maybe there was more she needed to know.
They were infecting her with their dramas but the last thing the new mum needed was more tension and Carmen needed to know what she was up against.
Carmen stiffened her shoulders, let the room door shut behind her and marched up to the guard. ‘I’m assuming you’re Prince Zafar’s man?’
He bowed his head, though his expression remained anything but subservient. ‘Yes, madame. I am Yusuf.’
‘Then, Yusuf, perhaps you could take me to your prince, please.’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘I think not.’ The guard raised his eyebrows, looked her up and down, as if to say she was only a woman and a servant at that, and Carmen’s usually dormant temper flickered. She glared at him. This was really beyond a joke.
Any minute now Fadia could poke her head out and see she was under guard.
Her voice firmed. ‘I think so. Right now, thank you. I’m quite happy to use the stairs.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘The prince and I do know each other.’ A white lie. Serve Zafar right for flirting with her.
She and Yusuf, her new best friend—not—stared at each other for a moment and she could see a faint scar running the full length of the man’s face. He was probably extremely used to defending his prince.
There was stalemate as the silence went on and she threw caution to the winds. ‘I’d hate to have to pass on my displeasure.’
The man’s face tightened and he shrugged fatalistically. ‘As you wish. This way.’ He opened the door to the stairwell and allowed her to precede him. Carmen could hear the swish of his robes behind her, even though his footsteps were silent.
‘Please wait.’
She glanced back and Yusuf held up his hand.
She paused at the top of the stairs and the guard leaned forward and opened the heavy door for her. That second of waiting gave her time to realise she had no clear agenda for her visit with the prince when she arrived. Was it enough of her business to barge in? What on earth was she doing here?
On the seventh floor Carmen could see another guard standing outside the door to the presidential suite and the reality sank in a little further about how different this man’s life was from hers. And how out of her depth she really was.
She paused to say she’d changed her mind but one glance at the cynical face beside her told her dear Yusuf had picked up on her discomfort. Great to know she was providing him with amusement.
That decided her.
Yusuf glanced once more at her determined chin, nodded at the man standing guard, then knocked on the large wooden door.
A few seconds later a tiny robed woman appeared and they spoke a language Carmen didn’t understand but it wasn’t hard to guess what was said—something along the lines of stupid woman annoying our prince, no doubt.
The woman glanced over Carmen, shrugged and stepped back to allow them to enter.
The room opened into a window lined terrace and the magnificent blue vista of Coogee Bay curved like a sickle seven floors below. The scent of sandalwood was strong and quiet discordant music played discreetly in the background.
Several low armchairs were grouped together and there were heaped cushions on colour-rich carpets, all facing the entertainment centre on one side of the room, and a boardroom table with a dozen comfortable chairs took up space on the other.
She’d been in this room before and the furnishing had changed dramatically. It seemed Prince Zafar travelled with his own furniture. A tad different from her bedsit with a rickety bed.
A door leading off into another room opened and Zafar came out—no, she thought, he made an entrance. Dressed in white traditional robes of an Arab, with his head covered, she couldn’t help a little more gaping.
His brows drew together when he saw her but he came forward until he stood in front of her. He looked even bigger and more formidable surrounded by his servants but this time it was not only his physical presence, more the scent of distinct power.
‘You wished to see me.’
She felt the pressure from interested eyes, and he too glanced around. He spoke three short, sharp words that cleared the room like magic.
Despite herself, she was impressed and to her irritation couldn’t deny a little nervous thrill now that they were alone.
‘Please…’ he gestured to the lounge chairs
