had a date with Paul on Friday,’ someone said.
Zahir did not want to think about that but the flowers seemed to follow him everywhere.
They were in the nurses’ station as he wrote his notes. And when, having checked on his mother again in the late afternoon, he went to make a drink, someone had moved them through to the staff kitchen.
He went to his office to make a call to his father.
The King.
He sat at the desk for a long moment, thinking hard. There was a lot on his mind. Admin were demanding his signature on a new contract, as they had every right to do.
Zahir knew, though, that he needed to go home and not just for a visit this time.
He was thinking of going head to head with his father so that he could get the hospital under way.
There was another reason, though, that he hadn’t signed his new contract—Adele.
The attraction had been instant and troublesome. He could still vividly remember the first time he’d laid eyes on her. Working on a patient, usually nothing could have drawn his attention, yet for a fleeting moment she had.
Her china-blue eyes had met his and Janet had explained that Adele was there for an interview.
He hadn’t wanted her to get the job.
That was how much he was attracted to her. Even before they had spoken, he would have preferred that they never had. Of course she had been given the role and two weeks later he had walked into the nurses’ station to the sound of her laughter and her fresh fragrance.
‘Zahir,’ Janet had said. ‘This is Adele. She is a graduate nurse...’
‘Adele.’ He had responded with a brief nod.
‘Hi!’ She had smiled.
‘Adele did her training here,’ Janet had explained, ‘so she’s familiar with the place.’
Zahir had shut her out at every possibility. He’d asked for more senior staff when possible. He’d ignored her slightly wacky humour and had not rewarded it with a smile.
He’d dated sophisticated beauties and he’d told them upfront that he was in no position to settle down.
Currently he was dating Bella.
That was about to end and he knew Bella sensed it. He had used the excuse of his mother being sick this weekend not to see her and now she had come up with tickets to the theatre next week.
He would end it before then.
Soon he would marry a bride considered suitable.
Of course he would be consulted, but the effect of her laughter on the edge of his lips would not be taken into consideration. Neither would the fact that the mere scent of her made him want to turn around.
There would be a more logical thought process when it came to the selection of the future Queen. Perhaps her country would have a considerable army, for it would be a marriage of countries rather than hearts. Of course Zahir was not considering Adele for such a role. Yet, on sight, his guard had gone up and he’d known he’d have to be wary of the attraction he felt.
It was an attraction so intense that over the last year every time he had driven past her at the bus stop he had wanted to slow down and tell her to get in. Not to take her home but to take her to his bed.
To make slow, tender love to her.
Yes, he had slowed down the car once, but the sight of her in that short wet dress had been too much.
She was a relentless assault to his senses and six feet three of turned-on sheikh had decided it was safer to drive on.
It was hell to drive past her and leave her standing in the dark. It was hell to work alongside her.
It was hell.
And perhaps time away was needed before self-control ran out.
Nothing could come of them, Zahir knew that. It was the reason that he kept his distance.
His feelings for Adele were serious and that was why he held well and truly back. But it was getting harder to do so.
And it was another reason why it might be better to return to his country.
Zahir rang home.
‘I have just come from visiting the Queen.’ Zahir spoke formally with his father. ‘She is doing very well.’
‘How long until she can come home?’ The King asked.
‘Not until she is ready,’ Zahir said. ‘I have spoken with Mr Oman and usually it would be several weeks before she could fly but, given she will be on the royal jet, I don’t expect it to be that long. And I shall accompany her, of course.’ He took a breath and then told his father what he had decided. ‘I am not renewing my contract at the hospital. I’m coming home to sort out the building of the new hospital. I’m going to be speaking with architects over the coming weeks. I shall do my best to find someone who can understand the need to respect our traditions, as well as incorporate the new. When I return things will immediately get under way.’
‘Nothing is to get under way without my permission.’
‘Too many lives have been lost,’ Zahir said. ‘Your delay in implementing changes has caused your own wife to collapse. What about all our people?’
‘I am King.’
‘And I am Crown Prince and I refuse to do nothing until your death. I shall be returning with the Queen and change will happen.’
‘Don’t speak of this now, Zahir. Not when I am concerned for my wife—’
‘No,’ Zahir interrupted. ‘You can no longer ignore that fact that there are better ways. The Queen collapsed while she was visiting me at work. What if she had been at a formal dinner or a royal event? Luckily she was in a hospital at the time.’
Zahir let out a tense breath, embarrassed on behalf of his mother as to how events could have panned out.
He was so grateful that Adele had dealt with things so discreetly.
Adele.
All roads led to her.
Even in the middle of a difficult conversation he smiled at the memory of her blocking his path as he had tried to get into the cubicle to care for his mother.
Then his smile faded and he returned to the subject.
‘We shall discuss this in person,’ Zahir said to his father. ‘For now, know that she is resting comfortably and that she is receiving excellent medical care.’
‘If you are returning then there shall be a selection ceremony and a wedding.’
‘You know where I stand on that,’ Zahir
