A Wife for the Surgeon Sheikh Read online

  Lauren smiled and nodded, then asked Aneesha if the woman would be willing to select all the carpets for her.

  ‘Ask her if she will come with us to the apartments and have a look, so she will know what they need.’

  It took some time, but eventually the apartment was finished, the muted colours of the furnishings Lauren had chosen allowing the carpets to reveal their full magnificence, and turning the rooms into places of restful and elegant beauty.

  ‘So, you will show me what you’ve done?’ Malik asked one evening when he called at the house for dinner with her and Nim.

  She shook her head.

  ‘That’s a surprise for you on our wedding night,’ she told him, then Nim was talking about his visit to the palace and the children he’d met and, of course, the dogs.

  ‘They are called saluki hounds and could I have one, please?’ he finished, and while Malik explained that they were hunting dogs and he would have to look after it himself, see it always had plenty of fresh water, and feed it, and take it for long walks for exercise, Lauren thought back to the first day they’d had dinner together—in her small kitchen back home.

  Malik had spoken of these dogs then. How far they had come...

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE QUESTION OF the wedding was still to be settled, Lauren baulking at the idea of hundreds of guests and two different dresses and the other things Malik had suggested.

  ‘It is how things are done,’ he said. ‘And it is my opportunity to introduce you to the people.’

  She smiled at him.

  ‘I think I’ve already met a fair cross-section of the Madani people during the vaccinations or at the hospital. And after your impassioned plea for support, they all know about me. Can’t we just be married quietly? Maybe later have receptions for guests?’

  ‘So how would you like to be married?’ Malik asked. They’d stolen a few quiet moments to themselves in his office at the hospital, Lauren about to go off duty and he abandoning affairs of state to give Graeme a break.

  ‘Now I have options?’ Lauren teased.

  ‘Of course you have,’ he said. ‘There’s the palace without the pomp and ceremony if you that’s what you’d prefer. There’s plenty of choice there. Or any one of the big hotels would be only too happy to make the arrangements.’

  ‘And the rose garden?’

  Malik smiled at the woman he loved.

  ‘Really?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Unless you really need to have all that fuss you spoke of earlier—a wedding befitting your position—what I’d really like is something small and private in the garden, because, if you think about it, it’s about us, not other people.’

  And although he’d thought his heart was already full of love for this woman, he felt it swell with the emotion once again.

  ‘I’m not the King, just the caretaker, and I can get married however I like. You’re right, we’ll leave the pomp and ceremony for Nimr when his turn comes. So the rose garden it will be. We’ll just have Aunt Jane and Joe, and Nimr, of course, and anyone else you’d like, and my uncles, who are so contrite at what they did with the vote it will be like forgiveness to them.’

  ‘Aunt Jane and Joe?’ Lauren whispered, as if she’d doubted what she’d heard.

  He smiled at her.

  ‘Of course! I’ll arrange to bring them over, and you might ask them if they’d like to stay a while and see Madan. Other friends, if you’d like. Maybe Peter Cross and his family if Susie is well enough to travel—it might be a little treat for them after all they’ve been through. I can send a plane so numbers don’t matter.’

  Lauren shook her head in disbelief. He’d only heard of Susie that one evening and yet he’d remembered her name. Although, being Malik, he’d probably talked to Peter and learned a lot more...

  So! A wedding in the rose garden.

  ‘It’s like a dream,’ she said quietly.

  ‘But not one we have to wake up from, surely,’ he said, getting up from the piles of paperwork on his desk and coming around to hold her for a few minutes.

  They talked of dates again—ten days away—and times—early morning when the dew was still on the roses—and Malik was filled with a deep inner peace and happiness, two things that had been missing from his life since Tariq’s death.

  * * *

  Later that day he went out to the house to have dinner with ‘his family’, taking with him a gift for Lauren.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, holding the light, tissue-wrapped parcel.

  ‘Open it and see,’ Malik told her, and she did, Nim hovering by her side to see what was inside.

  A long shawl in fine, palest pink silk, heavily embroidered with silver thread.

  ‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ she said, touching the delicate material with soft fingers.

  ‘It was my mother’s,’ he told her. ‘She wore it on her wedding day.’

  Lauren set it down and hugged him hard, her throat too thick with emotion for speech.

  But, she realised later, looking at the treasured gift, it solved the problem of what to wear for her wedding. Once she’d dismissed the idea of a massive royal wedding and two dresses to get through it, she had been through the seemingly endless racks of clothes in her dressing room, and although many of them were obviously for evening or formal occasions, she’d been unable to decide.

  But seeing this, she pictured a rose-pink tunic that had pale pink and silver embroidery. With the scarf wrapped around her head instead of a veil, it would be perfect.

  The days flew by. Joe, Aunt Jane and the Cross family arrived, much to Nim’s delight, and while Nim took Joe, Peter and Susie out the back to introduce him to the animals and the vet who cared for them, Lauren and the two women went through the clothes in the dressing room.

  For Nim there was a new thobe, or long white tunic, and a new cap for his head, although Lauren had to put a stop to him nagging Joe to also wear a ‘dress’.

  The day finally arrived, and Lauren and her ‘family’ walked through the garden to the arch where white roses grew from either side to fill the air with fragrance, their spent petals forming a carpet beneath their feet.

  And Malik fit right in, garbed in his snowy robe and simple white square of headdress, held in place with a gold cord.

  Lauren felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of him, and for a moment she faltered. But she was close enough to see the sudden concern in his eyes so she smiled and kept walking, Nim by her side, Aunt Jane and Joe, the Cross family, and Keema and Aneesha close behind.

  They stood and made their vows, which were blessed by an elder, then gathered in the small salon for a wedding breakfast of surely unparalleled magnificence.

  Roses decorated the centre of the table with bowls piled high with fruit on either side. On the sideboard, an array of dishes with mouth-watering aromas were being kept warm over small heaters.

  They ate and talked, and although Lauren would have liked nothing more than to slip away with her new husband, politeness insisted she stay.

  But when they had eaten, coffee and sweet pastries were served in the colonnade, looking out over the roses, and she sat with Malik’s uncles, assuring them she held no ill-will against them.

  Malik had wandered off with Joe, and Nim was telling Aunt Jane about his school.

  And there, in the garden, Lauren realised she’d found the place that she belonged—Madan. She was already planning how to set up the health posts along the routes of the nomadic tribes, a job Malik was only too happy for her to take over.

  And Nim—she looked at his happy face as he explained about the leopards—had accepted this marriage with delight, assuring her when she’d stumbled through her explanation that he already knew people got married so they could sleep in the same bed...

  She’d spoken to Aunt Jane and Joe, telling the
m she’d had solicitors draw up the papers to pass the ownership of her old home to Joe. Telling them also just how grateful she would always be to the two of them—taking care of her when she’d been broken by grief, coming to live with her to help with Nim—just being a family for her when she’d lost hers.

  Telling them also that they were welcome to visit any time—that they would all love to see them...

  Then Malik’s voice broke into her rambling thoughts—Malik, her husband.

  ‘And now,’ he said, ‘we come to the bride gift. It is customary in our family to give the bride a gift of money or jewellery that will provide for her should anything happen to me.’

  He smiled at Lauren and added, ‘Not that it will, my love, for how could I leave you?

  ‘But my wife, who, as some of you already know, has decided views on many subjects, one of which, apparently, is not accepting such extravagant—as she calls them—gifts.’ He paused to smile at his new bride. ‘So I have been speaking to Joe, and with your permission, Lauren, I would like to give your bride gift to Joe for the organisation that he is now involved with—helping and training disabled defence force personnel, giving them a purpose in life and goals to aim for in the future, especially now the Invictus Games are growing into worldwide events.’

  ‘Oh, Malik, that is a wonderful idea,’ Lauren said, slipping down into the garden to give Joe a hug, then turning to hug Malik.

  He held her close, just held her, but through the peace that being in his arms always brought another thought surfaced.

  ‘Can we go soon?’ she whispered, and his body, so close to hers, told her the answer.

  And, as if by magic, the party dispersed. Aneesha had arranged a tour of the country for the visitors and Nim—trips to the lodge in the desert, and date farms, and oases, camel rides, and nights under the stars.

  But Lauren and Malik had a shorter journey—to the apartment in the palace, where Malik shook his head in wonder at the transformation.

  ‘It’s like being in the lodge, but in the city,’ he murmured as he took her in his arms, kissing her thoroughly before they tried the big old bed for size and comfort.

  ‘I love you so much, Mrs Madani,’ he whispered.

  ‘And I you!’ she said, as a deep feeling of peace and contentment settled into her heart—nestling up against the brimming love...

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Meredith Webber

  New Year Wedding for the Crown Prince

  Healed by Her Army Doc

  From Bachelor to Daddy

  A Miracle for the Baby Doctor

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Italian Surgeon’s Secret Baby by Sue MacKay.

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  The Italian Surgeon’s Secret Baby

  by Sue MacKay

  PROLOGUE

  ‘THAT WAS TOO CLOSE.’ Nurse Elene Lowe shuddered and wiped the back of her glove-covered hand across her brow as she stepped back from the theatre table where five-year-old Joe Crawford lay, cast in so much plaster he wouldn’t be moving for the foreseeable future.

  ‘Too damned close.’ Mattia Ricco, the surgeon, scowled. ‘Can everyone ask their favourite child-whisperer or whatever to watch over this kid? He’s going to need all the help going and some.’

  ‘Sure will.’ One of the other nurses grimaced over her shoulder as she left the theatre, closely followed by most of the team.

  Beep. Once again the heart monitor was telling them Joe had gone into arrest.

  Mattia swore as he snatched up the paddles. ‘Stand back.’

  Elene’s own heart stalled. ‘So not fair.’ The little guy had arrested twice during the hours of surgery he’d just undergone to deal with two fractured legs and one smashed arm, and to wire his jaw back together.

  His little body jerked upwards as Mattia applied an electric jolt.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  ‘I’ll tell you what’s not fair,’ Mattia growled. ‘A mother driving through the city on a busy Friday night with her son lying down on the back seat asleep instead of belted securely into a car seat.’

  He was right. Why would any loving parent do that? The drunk driver who took out the car at speed might not be Joe’s mother’s fault, but surely not protecting her child was? Elene swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. She understood Mattia’s need to let rip, and as there was only her and the anaesthetist to hear him he was safe from condemnation. ‘I’ll take Joe through to Recovery and bring them up to speed on what’s been happening.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ Mattia muttered. ‘Not because I think you need me to fill in the gaps as you report everything, but I’m reluctant to hand him over until I know his heart’s not going to stop again.’

  Exactly her feelings. ‘It’s hard, but he’ll be monitored and looked after as well as he was in here. No one’s going to take their eyes off him for a long while.’

  Forty minutes later Mattia said. ‘The obs are the best they’ve been, though not how I’d like them.’ He turned to Elene. ‘Coffee? I want to be within calling distance in case...’

  No surprise there. The Italian specialist on contract for a year had won the admiration of all Wellington’s orthopaedic department’s staff for his dedication and high standards. He’d also won the heart of every female in the whole hospital with his good looks and charisma, including hers. ‘Tea for me.’ She followed him into the cramped space that was the staff tea room beside the theatre. In her head she could still see Joe’s little face smothered in the mask supplying him with oxygen and the small body being gently put back together. The heart failures. She wasn’t ready to be alone with her thoughts. ‘Who’d be a parent?’

  ‘It’s enough to put you off, I’ll agree.

  ‘But hell.’ Mattia rammed his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. ‘A five-year-old having cardiac arrest is beyond description. How was I going to tell his parents if we hadn’t brought him back?’ His Italian accent had thickened, making his words harder to decipher.

  Elene’s stomach turned to acid. ‘This is when I wonder if I’ve chosen the right job. I hate having to be a part of so much agony and distress.’ She’d spoken in Italian without thought. Reverting to English, her native tongue, she continued, ‘Not even saving Joe takes away the nightmare of what we witnessed tonight.’ Quickly spooning coffee granules into one mug and dropping a teabag into another, Elene tried to find something good to think about.

  ‘Don’t believe that. You’re an exceptional nurse. We all have t
hose doubts at times like this.’ Mattia reached around her with the milk.

  ‘Yeah,’ she sighed. ‘I guess.’ A hint of the wild tickled her nose. Aftershave? Nope, there was light stubble on that sexy chin behind her. She tried to step away to put a gap between them and bumped against Mattia’s chest. A solid, muscular wall that filled his scrubs top to perfection. Jerking away, she moved again, only to find him standing rock-solid in front of her, those intense dark eyes locked on hers—with something like lust spiralling through them. Did he need to blot out the last two hours too? In an instant common sense deserted her as excitement rose, filling her lungs, her stomach, her centre—tipping her forwards, towards that body she’d eyed more than once with a sense of wonder. Shutting down everything but the need to press close and feel—feel his strength, the tone of his worked-out muscles, his sex, to forget the horrendous scenes imprinted on her brain.

  Hands were on her waist, bringing her closer to her goal. Firm, warm, sensual hands. Then she forgot the hands as Mattia’s head descended until his lips were close, so close, teasing, flirting—waking her up as she hadn’t been in all the years since she’d left her ex. As she hadn’t wanted to be for fear she’d repeat the same mistakes. But this was Mattia, the man she’d lusted after, and therefore argued with often to keep him at arm’s length, for the eleven months he’d been working here.

  This is the man your best friend’s currently having a fling with.

  Elene jerked out of those hands, away from that provocative mouth that could start her on a path to somewhere she must not go, and cursed the day he’d left Italy to work in New Zealand.

  * * *

  Mattia breathed deep, filling his depleted lungs and tightening his gut. Not for a nanosecond did his gaze leave Elene’s face. She was swallowing as if her life depended on getting fluid down her throat. Her eyes were wide and filled with guilt. Guilt that was now creeping into his mind. While technically it wasn’t a full-on relationship that would lead to something permanent, he was in the midst of a fling with another nurse, Danielle. Despite the casualness of their liaison he would not seek out another woman until it was over—probably at the end of his contract in four weeks.