Falling For The Sheik
She ought to say something. Introduce herself. Ask how he was. But she couldn’t speak. Her lips wouldn’t move, her throat was clogged. She told herself he was just a patient like every other patient she’d seen before. If she took him on he’d be just another patient to assess, evaluate, change bandages, check blood pressure, breathing, etc., etc. But standing there locked in this endless, wordless gaze with him, she knew deep down he was not like any other patient she’d ever had.
He was the one who finally broke the silence.
“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was deep and uneven. In the silence of the room it reverberated and struck a chord in her soul. His eyes narrowed. Before she could answer, he continued. “Don’t just stand there. Get in here. Open the blinds so I can see you.”
Like a mindless robot, she walked to the window and opened the blinds just slightly. He had the manner of one who gave orders and was used to having them obeyed. But she was not used to taking orders from patients and she wasn’t about to start now. She straightened her shoulders and found her voice. Not only her voice but her professional demeanor.
“I’m Amanda Reston. I’m a nurse.”
“Rahman Harun,” he said. “Forgive me for not getting up. May I say without insulting you or your profession that you don’t look like a nurse. Much too young. Much too beautiful.”
There it was. The so-called charm she’d expected. Next he’d tell her he was ready to go home and would she call a cab. If not, then he’d ask her to run into town for a six-pack and a hamburger. If he did, he’d soon find out she was not a messenger girl.
“I’m not on duty,” she said stiffly. If she was going to work for him, which was not at all certain at this point, she’d have to establish that she was in charge. That she could not be used or manipulated. That if he wanted to get well, he’d do what she said. She was a professional and she was accustomed to respect. At least from her patients.
“So what brings you by, Nurse Reston?” he said, his voice husky and breathless. “To see what a sheik looks like? To watch how the mighty have fallen?” He choked on a mirthless laugh and reached for a glass of water. She automatically handed it to him. He wrapped his blunt fingers around hers. Amanda felt a shock travel up her arm. Despite the need to remain professional, she almost dropped the glass. He was breathing hard. So was she.
“Are you okay?” she asked, setting the glass firmly in his hand. She should have asked herself the same question.
“I’m fine. Just great.” He gulped some water and pointed to the foot of his bed. “Read my chart there if you don’t believe me. Don’t be fooled by this bandage on my head, or the torn ligament in my ankle or that tube between my ribs. I’m really fine. So fine I’m going home as soon as I can get a…hey, that’s you, isn’t it? You’re the hotshot nurse who’s going to go home with me.
“I heard all about you. They thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t. Ten years in ICU as a trauma nurse. I thought you’d be about fifty pounds heavier, have gray hair and thick ankles.” He tilted his head to one side to get a better look at her. His gaze lingered on the contours of her lower body under her stretch pants. It was so intense Amanda felt her knees shake. She blushed and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, wishing she’d never come.
She didn’t want to take on a patient who affected her this way. She told herself he was just checking her out the way she was evaluating him. After all, he was the one who’d be hiring her. He had a right to pick someone older with more experience and thicker ankles if that’s what he wanted. Why she was reacting like a juvenile instead of a mature woman, she didn’t know.
“From what I can see, I’ve lucked out, for once. So let’s go, Amanda Reston.” He swung his good leg over the side of the bed and reached for the buzzer to summon the nurse.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Amanda said, lifting his leg back onto the bed. “You haven’t been discharged yet and I haven’t said I’d take the job. I’m new here in town. I just got here and I don’t know what my options are. And I’m not sure I’d be right for you.”
She was not going to let the sheik call the shots or make her feel like a sex object any more than she’d let an arrogant surgeon do those things. She had not jumped out of the frying pan in Chicago into the fire in this mountain paradise. If she took the job, it would be her decision. She wouldn’t be pressured or charmed. Sure, he was handsome and determined, but that wasn’t enough to sell her on the idea of taking him on. Just the reverse. She didn’t need to be around a man who affected her like this one did without even trying.
He glared at her. “Options. You’ve got options. Good for you. I had options a few days ago, but as of now, I’m fresh out What’s all this about being right for me? It’s just a job, Nurse Reston. I can’t afford to be choosy. If I don’t get a private-duty nurse, I have to stay here.” He gazed around at the walls as if the room were a prison. To him, it probably was.
Rather than debate the merits of hospital accommodations, she changed the subject. “How did it happen?” she asked.
“The accident? The usual. I was taking a last run and I lost control and rolled down the hill. Do you ski?”
Amanda shook her head.
“It’s a great sport. There’s nothing like it. The speed, the wind in your face, the mountains…” For a brief moment there was a half smile on his craggy face. She caught a glimpse of what he might have been before the accident, only a short time ago. She felt a pang of sympathy mingled with curiosity. This wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all. She had to keep her professional distance. But she couldn’t help wondering, what was he like before it happened? She’d never know.
“Until you fall and puncture your lung,” she concluded dryly.
“Do you believe in accidents?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t. I believe you get what you deserve. I was pushing the envelope. I was asking for it, just like…” He took a shallow breath, leaned forward and pinned her with his gaze. “It was my fault. Whatever happened was because of what I did. I was careless. So I’m paying the price for my so-called accident. That’s the way it should be. This accident did not happen by chance. It happened for a reason.” He put so much emphasis on every word of that last sentence, it seemed to exhaust him. He let his head fall back on the pillow and closed his eyes. His forehead was furrowed.
Concerned, Amanda sat on a stool by the bed and took his pulse. It was fast but strong. Before she could remove her hand, Rahman grabbed it with his other hand. For someone so badly injured, he had surprising strength.
“Cold hands,” he murmured, his eyes drifting open and then shut again. “We have a saying in Arabic, ‘Cold hands mean warm heart.”’ His voice faded to a whisper. “Is that true? Is your heart warm, Amanda?”
Had he really said that, or had she just imagined it? In any case, it was fortunate the question didn’t require an answer, because she couldn’t have articulated one. For the second time this afternoon she was speechless. Luckily no one was taking her pulse because she felt it speed up uncontrollably. What on earth was wrong with her? It must be the altitude. That was it. Some people got dizzy, others got breathless or had an increased heart rate. Although she’d been in the mountains for two days with no ill effects, she was suddenly in the throes of some kind of altitude sickness. Or…
In any case, whether she had a warm heart or not was none of the sheik’s business. Amanda knew she ought to leave. She’d seen enough and heard enough. More than enough. But though he appeared to have dropped off into semiconsciousness, he was still holding her hand so tightly that she couldn’t pull it away. Couldn’t or wouldn’t? She sat there for a long moment, mesmerized by the scent of spring flowers from the bouquets in vases, the pattern of sunlight on the bed, the warmth of his hand in hers. A current of energy seemed to flow from her to him and back again. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to leave. But of course she had to.
No. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be his nurse. Couldn’t take care of him twenty-four hours a day. Couldn’t live in his ski cabin. She’d come here for a break. She could not afford one bit of emotional involvement with anyone. Not with a doctor, not with a patient. All she wanted was to live quietly and simply. Alone. To leave her work at the end of the day and not take it home with her. Underneath the scent of freesias and hyacinths, she smelled danger in this room. A threat to her new life and the serenity she was looking for. Inside her chest she felt her heart bang against her ribs. It felt like fear. She’d tell Rosie tonight she couldn’t do it. Rosie would understand.
When Amanda finally pulled her hand loose from Rahman’s grasp, he gave a ragged sigh and mumbled something she couldn’t understand about being sorry. Glancing back toward him as she tiptoed to the door, she nearly ran into the tall figure standing in the doorway. She gasped in surprise. The man was the mirror image of the sheik in the bed. Or what Rahman would look like if he was healthy. Had she gone crazy? Was she seeing double?
“You must be the nurse,” he said. “I’m Rafik, Rahman’s brother. Can I have a word with you?”
“Of course,” she said softly and they walked down the hall to the lounge together while she practiced what she would say to him.
I’m not going to take the job. I can’t take care of your brother. It has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. I’m in recovery, too. Some things I can handle. Some things I can’t. A man like your brother falls into the latter category. I’m sorry, but I’m not the right person for the job.
Chapter Two
“Well, what did you think?” Rosie asked the minute Amanda walked into her friend’s kitchen where the fondue was bubbling on the stove and the air was filled with the rich aroma of cheese and kirsch.
“He’s in bad shape,” Amanda said, hanging her jacket on a hook near the door.
Rosie nodded and handed her friend a glass of white wine.
“More than you can manage? Worse than you thought?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” What could she say? How to explain that after all these years of professional nursing, a patient had touched her somewhere that was off limits. And that she was still reeling from the shock.
At that moment, Rosie’s husband Jake burst in the back door. “Welcome to California, Amanda. I hope you’re here to stay.” His face was ruddy, his voice was booming. Amanda had only met him once, at their wedding back in Chicago, Rosie’s hometown, but he greeted her with a welcoming hug as if he was as glad to see her as his wife was. Then he kissed Rosie as if he hadn’t seen her for weeks instead of hours and Amanda felt a pang of most unbecoming envy. Their affection for each other was out in the open for all to see. The way it should be. No sneaking around. Hiding from sight. Fearing being caught. It was clear they’d forged solid, unbreakable ties that nothing could separate.
Overriding the envy was happiness for her friend. When Rosie alluded to her secrets, Amanda knew they weren’t all happy ones. Rosie had put in her time, had had her share of heartbreak and disappointment. What was it Rahman had said he believed? “You get what you deserve.” Was that true? Did Amanda deserve what she’d gotten? To have her heart broken? She hoped not. If she had, she had turned over a new leaf in a new place. Never again would a man take advantage of her. Never again would she be fooled into trusting a man.
If Amanda was envious at meeting Rosie’s husband, she was more so when she saw the three-year-old twin girls, Sara and Nora. She got down on her knees and put an arm around each one of them. This was certainly her day for twins, she thought. Unlike Rahman and his brother Rafik, these two were identical in energy, charm and looks. Over their mother’s protests, the girls dragged Amanda to their room to show her their beds, their dolls, their toy house, their pet hamster and their books. They asked her a million questions.
They climbed into her lap, they combed her hair with their Barbie doll’s tiny comb and brush. Amanda felt a cold lump in her chest she didn’t know was there start to melt away. Felt the tension of the day fade as fast as the sun set behind the mountains. She could have gladly stayed there all evening, playing pretend games. Pretending that these were her children, this was her life. Pretending she didn’t have a tough job ahead of her.
Amanda didn’t know what had happened to her. She’d never longed for children the way Rosie had. But now that she’d seen these two, now that they were so close she could smell their baby shampoo, feel their soft skin and hear their little voices chatter away, she’d had a vision, an epiphany. This is what it could be like, should be like. Only it wasn’t.
She came back to earth with a thud. She was pretending just like the children. She’d had quite a day. First, she was still in shock, coming to a small mountain community from a big city only a few days ago. Second, she was in culture shock from meeting the twin sheiks. One intense, demanding, difficult, and maddeningly attractive despite everything. The other kind and persuasive. Just as good-looking, but there was no tension between them. No electric current flowed between them the way it had between Rahman and herself. Of course, if it wasn’t the altitude that caused her reaction to Rahman, it could be a reaction to what she’d left behind, to the man who’d deceived her. Amanda knew she was vulnerable. She knew her heart had been ripped out of her chest and broken in two. She needed time to heal, just like Rahman did. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to tell her that.
When the au pair came to retrieve the little girls for their baths, they kissed Amanda good-night and she reluctantly went back to the kitchen to help Rosie toss the salad.
“The girls are crazy about you,” Rosie said as the three of them sat down at the candlelit dining room table.
“It’s mutual,” Amanda said. “I’m gaga over them. They’re the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you,” Rosie said with a proud smile. “Now have some fondue and then tell us what happened with the sheik.”
“I met him and I decided I couldn’t do it,” she said.
“Why, what did he say? How did he act?” Rosie asked.
“Just the way I’d expected. Impatient, arrogant, demanding. I told myself life is too short to spend it on somebody like that.”
“Of course he’s sick,” Rosie interjected. “Being sick brings out the worst in anyone.”
“I know. I know. I tried to make allowances for that. He has every right to be cranky. He’s obviously in pain. He’s frustrated. He’s used to being in charge. Suddenly he’s immobilized. Has to ring a bell when he wants something. It’s difficult. It’s humiliating.” As she said the words she pictured the man in the bed, his gaze haunting her even now, hours later. She remembered the way he held her hand and she held his.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to say ‘but…?”’ Rosie asked with a smile.
“But he’s a sheik,” Amanda reiterated. “I don’t know for sure, but I have the feeling the traits I saw today will be there when he gets well. I suspect that he’s spoiled and that he’s always gotten everything he’s ever wanted.” If so, then why the sad look when he thought no one was looking? Maybe he hadn’t really gotten everything he’d ever wanted. “I’ve dealt with a lot of difficult patients, but this man…”
“He got to you, didn’t he?” Rosie asked, her forehead puckered in a frown. “That’s not like you. Not like the old cool and calm Amanda. You were such a natural in the trauma center. Nothing rattled you. But this guy rattled you, I can tell. How come?”
“Maybe I felt sorry for him and I didn’t want to.” Maybe I was attracted to him and I didn’t want to be. “I don’t know.”
Amanda played over their conversation as she ate her salad. Why had Rahman gotten to her? Why had she reacted so strongly? She’d had good-looking male patients before. Patients who flirted with her and who tried to make passes at her from their hospital beds. She’d been able to rebuff them pleasantly and firmly and that was the end of it. Rahman hadn’t even really flirted with her.
“Sorry,” Amanda said jolted out of her reverie. “Did you ask me something?”
“I gather you’ve decided not to take his case then,” Rosie said.
“No, despite what I said, I’m going to do it.”
“What?” Rosie’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“A funny thing happened on my way out of Rahman’s room. I ran into Rafik. That’s the sheik’s twin brother. He’s everything Rahman isn’t. He’s very nice and low-key and thoughtful. He asked if he could talk to me and we went to the lounge where I told him I couldn’t take the case.
“He said he understood but asked me to think it over. Maybe if I saw the place…So we drove to the ski ‘cabin’ as you call it. And you’re right, it’s a beautiful house, all done in natural wood and stone with a spectacular view of the lake. They’ve ordered every kind of equipment you can think of for his recovery. A veritable rehab unit right there on the lake with a year-round housekeeper who is a great cook, if the smells coming from the kitchen are any indication.
“I met the whole family, his brother’s wife, his cousin, his wife and a few others I’m not sure who they were. They convinced me to take on Rahman. They said he hasn’t been himself lately. It’s not just his accident. It’s other things, too. Apparently he’s not only hurting physically, he’s also hurting emotionally. They didn’t say what the other things were. I suppose it’s none of my business.”
“So they talked you into it,” Rosie said. “I hope it works out.”
“So do I because the die is cast. The family is all leaving town to go back to San Francisco now that they’ve found me.”
“I hope they know how lucky they are,” Rosie said emphatically.
“They’re definitely making it worth my while,” Amanda admitted. “I’m not just doing it out of the goodness of my heart. They’ve offered me a lot of money and I get to live in that gorgeous house.” That didn’t change the fact that she was risking her newfound serenity. That she wasn’t at all sure it was the right thing to do.
“When will the hospital discharge him?” Rosie asked.
“I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow. The house isn’t quite ready yet. Needless to say Rahman is impatient.”
“You can ask Doc Flanders about his discharge,” Rosie said. “I’m so glad this has worked out. I hope…well I hope I haven’t led you astray.”
“It’s too soon to say it’s worked out, but whatever happens, it was my decision. You never pressured me.” Amanda tried to sound calm and confident, but in fact her stomach did flip-flops at the thought of staying under the same roof as the sheik. Being with him night and day. Hearing him moan in his sleep. Administering his medicine round the clock. Sitting by the side of his bed monitoring his lung capacity, testing him for complications or distress.
She knew she could help him recover. But what would happen to her in the process? For Rahman to get well, she would need his help. He had to make the effort. Did he have the drive, the will to help her help him? She kept seeing his face, his hollow eyes. She kept hearing his deep voice tell her that things happened for a reason. If Rahman didn’t believe he deserved to recover, he might not.
The next day, Amanda was back at the hospital. After talking to the doctor and Rahman’s family, it was decided to release him after the house was renovated and at least partly ready for him. In addition to what had already been done, workmen had been dispatched to install ramps for Rahman’s wheelchair and a hospital bed was to be installed in a bedroom on the first floor.
Amanda should have been flattered the doctor had so much faith in her that he’d consider discharging Rahman so soon. Of course, Dr. Flanders may have had other motives for getting rid of the patient who was consistently asking the nurses for something. She also should have been flattered that Rahman’s family had placed their confidence in her. But they had been desperate and had little choice. Even if Amanda should have been flattered, she wasn’t.
All she felt was cold on the outside and hollow on the inside. She was worried. Worried about this kind of heavy-duty nursing. Worried about their nurse-patient relationship. One-on-one contact with a man who’d had such a strange effect on her. She told herself she was being overly sensitive. He was just another patient. To be treated like all her other patients. Amanda repeated it to herself until it had sunk in.
She looked at herself in the mirror in the hospital restroom. She didn’t look nervous. She’d had years of practice of not showing emotion in front of her patients. Sometimes she had kept this mask on in her private life as well. Today, she needed it more than ever. Nobody wanted a nurse who had doubts about her job. She practiced a bright smile. Not bad for someone who wanted to run out the front door and take the first plane back to Chicago. From the frying pan into the fire was the phrase that kept running through her mind.
Amanda kept the smile pasted on her face when she headed to Rahman’s room. She thought he’d be delighted to be getting out so soon. He was far from it. She stood outside the room and listened to him rant and rave at his family.
“You’re leaving? Everyone is leaving and going about their lives while I waste away here by myself? Transfer me to a hospital in San Francisco,” he shouted. Only his shout came out like a wheeze. “I’m not staying here.”
A woman spoke in a soft lightly accented voice. “Rahman,” she said. “Calm down. You’re in no condition to travel. You know that. As soon as you are, you can come home. Everything is arranged. The house is being set up and we have hired you a wonderful nurse. We met her yesterday and we were very impressed. She’s been highly recommended.”
“Highly recommended by who? The doctors at this hospital? They’ll do anything to get rid of me. That’s fine with me. I want to leave. I don’t need some special nurse. How do they know what I need? Get me out of this place. I’m going home. And I don’t mean the ski cabin.”
A gruff-voiced older man spoke next. “You can’t go back to the city. Not yet. You’re much too sick. You’ve had a serious accident. You’re lucky to be alive.”
“Lucky? You think I’m lucky? Have you ever been confined to a bed all hours of the day except to hobble to the bathroom? Had to take a stack of pills just to keep the pain from taking over? To feel like hell all the time anyway? To think you’re losing your mind as well as the use of your legs. Not to be able to get enough air to breathe? You call that lucky?”
“Rahman!” the woman said in a voice full of indignation.
“Sorry, Father,” Rahman said, in a subdued tone.
Amanda stood outside the door wishing she hadn’t heard all that. She had thought everything was in order. She had thought he was reconciled to staying at the ski cabin. She had thought he’d be grateful to his family. What had caused this outburst? He sounded like a spoiled brat. Should she sneak away and pretend she’d never heard anything at all? As she was pondering her choices, Rahman’s twin brother came out and greeted her.
“I assume you heard all that,” he said with a grim look.
“I’m afraid so.”
“He doesn’t mean it. He’s upset because we’re leaving.”
She gave him her best hospital smile, totally insincere and hoped he wouldn’t notice. “It’s understandable,” she said. But it certainly wasn’t a good way to start this job. As if she hadn’t been worried enough. Now she knew how desperately Rahman didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to be left behind, and didn’t want to have her for his nurse. It hurt more than it should, even though she knew enough not to take it personally. She was being ridiculous and far too sensitive. She knew perfectly well how he was feeling—helpless, insecure, and in real pain.
“Good. I’m glad you understand,” his brother said.
“I’ll come back later,” Amanda said. “When things have calmed down.”