The Sheikh's Hidden Heir: Secret Sheikh, Secret Baby / The Sheikh's Claim / The Return of the Sheikh

Felicity soon found out the meaning of hitting the ground running. She was met at the airport, as promised, by a fellow English nurse. Relief flooded her as she saw her name on a card being held up by a dark-haired smiling woman who introduced herself as Helen.

‘Thank you so much for this…’ Shy, awkward, and still stunned at discovering who Karim really was, Felicity had great difficulty listening to all Helen was saying.

‘Don’t worry; you’ll be greeting people yourself in a few months. It’s a great system. After orientation you’ll be buddied up with me for your first few shifts.’

‘How long have you been here?’

‘Nearly a year,’ Helen said. ‘I’m going home for a visit in a few weeks, and then I’m coming back for another year. I only intended to stay for one, but I love the place.’

There was so much to take in.

Her accommodation was fabulous. She had a small apartment on the same floor as Helen’s, and there was a gym and two pools—one for women, one for men. It was bliss, Helen told Felicity as she showed her around the complex, to dip into the pool after a hard day on the ward.

‘You work hard while you’re at work, but there’s loads of leisure time too,’ Helen explained. ‘It really is wonderful once you get used to it.’

And for those first few days it really was just that—wonderful. Helen introduced Felicity to loads of ex-pats—friends waiting to be made—and gradually, as Helen took her to some other haunts, as she discovered the colourful, loud bazaars and blinked at the contrast to the designer boutiques in town, Felicity came to believe this was the best decision she had ever made. So busy was she by day she didn’t have time to stop and think about Karim. She almost forgot she was here in his country, that he was nearby. It was only late at night that her mind wandered.

A shiver of excitement and fear filled her as she lay in bed. Here, in Karim’s world, the palace was her view from the bedroom window. She ached for him, and some nights actually got up, pulled by strange longing, to stare out of her window and imagined him sleeping.

Or not.

Resting her head on the cold window didn’t cool her as she thought of him lying on a bed not so far away. Maybe lying there thinking about her…

* * *

Her orientation days had been informative, but Felicity knew the only way she would really fit in was when she actually started working. She was grateful when Helen knocked on her door early for her first real shift, and walked with her through the hospital grounds and into the hospital. It was immaculate, like the most luxurious private hospital, except this was accessible to all.

‘Except the royal wing,’ Helen explained. ‘If you think this is fabulous, you want to go and have a peek up there. It has its own nursing staff. It’s used for royalty and diplomats and the like. The King’s a patient there right now.’ She nudged Felicity’s attention to the tented city beyond the hospital walls. ‘They’re keeping vigil for him—he’s very ill, apparently.’

‘What about his sons?’ She couldn’t stop herself from asking, but Helen didn’t turn a hair, just kept on walking. ‘Do you ever see them?’

‘Prince Hassan has been visiting daily, while the King is a patient, and there’s always a bit of a stir when he arrives…’

‘Isn’t one of them a doctor?’ Oh, so casually she said it—but Helen gave Felicity a small nudge as they walked. ‘Hands off Karim! He’s mine.’ She grinned. ‘Who told you about him?’

‘I can’t remember.’ Felicity blushed as pink as her uniform. ‘One of the girls said that one of the princes was a surgeon.’

‘He used to be,’ Helen said, ‘and he still does the occasional list. But he doesn’t do much now, so he’s rarely around. He’s too busy being a royal, unfortunately.’

‘Unfortunately?’ Felicity checked, her throat tight.

‘I miss my fix.’ Helen nudged her again, not noticing that Felicity wasn’t smiling. ‘I miss swooning in the corridor when he stalks past—not that he’d acknowledge me, of course.’

‘Because he’s royal?’

‘No!’ Helen laughed. ‘Because he’s a surgeon—they’re treated like royalty the world over. Karim fitted in here perfectly. Now, did you bring all your documentation, like I told you?’

It was to Felicity’s intense relief that Helen changed the subject then. It took her till the middle of the morning to work out that for the first time in her life she’d been jealous!

Her first shift was spent mostly getting security tags and photocopying paperwork. For safety Helen locked it all up in the ward safe, and gave Felicity the duplicates. There had been a couple of instances of credit card theft on the compound, but security were on to it, Helen assured her.

Her pale pink uniform was practical and comfortable, and Felicity soon found out that pregnant women were the same the world over. Some were thrilled, others excited, some stunned and a few upset. By the end of her first week she had dealt with them all, and was that day working a shift in antenatal.

‘Mainly this clinic deals with ex-pats from the UK or America,’ Helen explained. ‘Dr Habib speaks perfect English and has an excellent reputation, so we tend to do the clinic this way. It gives women from the same background a chance to meet mums in the same situation.’

Certainly, from the lively chatter in the waiting room, the theory was working well.

‘For the first visit we check obs and weight, and do a routine urine and pregnancy test,’ Helen went on as they worked through their busy morning.

Felicity ticked little boxes, checked dates, and tried to ignore the little voice inside that kept reminding her that her period was due.

Late, even…

Felicity glanced at the calendar, trying to tell herself she was only a teeny bit late, and assuring herself that she was being completely paranoid. Still, by the time lunch came around it was nice to take a break away from the ward.

‘I’m on the labour ward tomorrow,’ Felicity said as she and Helen paid for their meals in the large canteen. Though canteen wasn’t the word Felicity would use for it, because it was nothing like the one in her old hospital. The room was spacious and airy, the food was prepared by chefs instead of being delivered via vending machines, and was quite simply delicious. Already Felicity was getting to know a few people, and she smiled to a couple of familiar faces as she and Helen walked over to a table. ‘And then I’m in Theatre the next day.’

‘And after that you’re on your own—I bet you can’t wait.’

‘I’ve loved being supernumerary, and I love that I haven’t been thrown in at the deep end, but I really am looking forward to working on my own.’

‘And delivering your first Zaraquian!’ Helen grinned and drained her cup. ‘Okay, back to it.’

A hefty nudge in the ribs as they walked out had Felicity looking up, and her face paled as she saw the subject of Helen’s attention. Dressed in a suit, chatting and laughing with a colleague, he was focussed on his conversation and heading towards the surgeons’ lounge. Corridors could feel like very long things at times—because Karim saw her. His eyes frowned, his voice halted mid-conversation—and then normal services were resumed. He swept towards her as if she wasn’t there, completely disregarded her.

As, of course, any surgeon would a nurse they supposedly hadn’t met.

‘Didn’t I tell you he was gorgeous?’ Helen said when they had passed, but Felicity didn’t answer. She had caught a waft of his cologne as he breezed past, and her cheeks burned.

Karim had very clearly set down the rules. Yes, corridors were very long things. Because, had he chosen to, had he cared even a little about her, there would have been plenty of time for a brief smile.

‘I’m just going to the loo.’ They were back at Maternity, and Felicity needed a moment to collect herself.

‘Again?’ Helen grinned.

Yes, again, Felicity thought. Because even though she didn’t actually need to go, she did need to check.

Again.

And again there was nothing.

She was being ridiculous, she told herself for maybe the hundredth time.

They’d used protection. Karim had been so careful. Her period was one day late, for goodness’ sake—hardly anything to worry about, given the move, given the flight. Yet she took out the little specimen jar from her pocket, because she just wanted her mind to be at rest. It was no wonder she felt slightly sick. The different food, jet lag…She was being ridiculous and soon she’d have proof. Wrapping the jar in toilet tissue, Felicity placed it back in her pocket.

She didn’t want to take a test home with her—there were Security everywhere and what if they checked her pockets?—but neither did she have the confidence or knowledge to go to a local pharmacist. Would they ask questions? Could an unmarried woman even purchase a test? She truly didn’t know.

But though her head was in many places, her mind was still on her patients.