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The Nanny and the Sheikh
Barbara McMahon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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THE BRIDES OF BELLA LUCIA

A family torn apart by secrets, reunited by marriage

Having the Frenchman’s Baby—Rebecca Winters

Coming Home to the Cowboy—Patricia Thayer

The Rebel Prince—Raye Morgan

Wanted: Outback Wife—Ally Blake

Married Under the Mistletoe—Linda Goodnight

Crazy About the Boss—Teresa Southwick

The Nanny and the Sheikh—Barbara McMahon

The Valentine Bride—Liz Fielding

To Pat McLaughlin—a long-distance friend dear to my heart! Thank goodness for phones!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ONE

MELISSA FOX threw down her pencil and rubbed her eyes. Arching her back, she tried to relieve the tense muscles. Translating business documents wasn’t the most stimulating activity. She shook her head and took a deep breath, glancing around the crowded office of Bella Lucia. The headquarters for the famous London restaurant group was a busy place. The accountants had their own row, quieter than where she was working. The general manager had a private office. She was seated in an extra desk near the receptionist who fielded a gazillion phone calls a day.

But she shouldn’t complain. She was between jobs and thankful to have something to do. Her mother had obtained this assignment for her through her new husband. It was only temporary, until mid-February when she flew to the United States to take on a new family.

A professional nanny, Melissa had recently quit her job as childcare resident at a large international hotel in Lake Geneva. She’d been there for five years, and had loved every minute. Or, almost every moment. Until the debacle with Paul. Now she planned to move on to working as nanny to a single family. The McDonalds were expecting their third child in February. When they had met her last fall in Switzerland, they’d talked her into accepting an assignment with them when the new baby arrived. After the end of her relationship with Paul, she was ready to change. Their current nanny was planning to marry in late January and the timing would be perfect.

Melissa looked back at the lengthy document. She was almost finished. She would complete the translation today before heading home. At loose ends since quitting her job just before the holidays, she was grateful for the chance to earn some money until she took up her new position. But she missed the children and the activities and her friends in Switzerland. Still, the chance to spend some time with her mother was great.

Staring at the page, she let her mind wander a bit. When her mother had prevailed upon her new husband, Robert Valentine, to offer Melissa a temporary job, Robert’s oldest son, Max, had come up with a spot in the office for the exclusive Bella Lucia restaurant business. She’d started by filing, then answering the phones. Once Max had discovered she was fluent in French, he had immediately started her on translating a stack of documents he had received from Sheikh Surim Al-Thani who lived in Qu’ Arim, an Arabic country on the Persian Gulf. Apparently the two men had been corresponding for some time about the feasibility of opening a Bella Lucia restaurant in Qu’ Arim. Sheikh Surim Al-Thani and Max wrote their letters in English. It was the construction firm giving preliminary bids who used French.

Working with the translations, Melissa was learning a great deal about the restaurant business and how Max envisioned the operations to run. She cross-referenced the documents with the correspondence between Max and the sheikh. It was a new venture for the family-owned and -operated restaurants—expanding in a foreign market. She knew Max had mentioned opening a few more worldwide if this one proved successful. Maybe he’d open one in Boston one day—near enough that she could visit while she was employed by the McDonald family.

She picked up her pencil to begin again. Only a few more paragraphs.

The sheikh was building a luxury resort right on the Gulf. The restaurant would be the jewel in the crown of the new holiday destination, he’d said. He had plans to make the entire seaside complex the premier place to visit in that part of the world.

Melissa wished wistfully that she could visit herself. It was rainy and cold in London. Switzerland, where she’d lived the last few years, was buried in snow. How wonderful would it be to visit a tropical resort in January, laze around on the beach, visit souks and find exotic goods at rock-bottom prices?

The McDonald family lived in Massachusetts, which was also under snow. Apparently she was destined to live in cold climes.

Max came up to her desk.

“Got a moment?” he asked.

“Sure, what’s up?” She still wasn’t used to the fact that Max Valentine was her new stepbrother, but already liked him very much. He was tall, dark and handsome, and, though her own feelings toward him were purely platonic, she could see why Max had more than one woman in the office preening every time he walked through.

“Come back into my office if you would.”

Melissa followed him into his office and sat on one of the visitor chairs.

He leaned back in his own chair studying her for a moment, a small smile playing around his mouth. “I have to fly to Qu’ Arim on Sunday as I’m meeting Surim for a final session before we sign all the paperwork. They’ve already started building and I’d like to see the setup. It’s thanks to the translations you’ve done that we’ve got a lot of the preliminary work behind us, so…” he paused “…how would you like to come with me?”

“To Qu’ Arim? I’d love to!” Melissa felt a surge of excitement. Look out beaches, she was on her way! How terrific of Max to offer her the chance. It would be more like a vacation than work. And a fabulous opportunity to see more of the world.

“It will only be for a week and I expect to return home by the following weekend. We’ll stay with Surim.’ Max smiled. “His home is large enough for a battalion.”

“You’ve been there?”

“Several times. He stays with me when he’s in London. He and I went to Eton together. Until our final year.”

“What happened then?” Melissa asked, intrigued to learn she might get to meet a real-live sheikh and that he had actually gone to school in her country.

“His father died and he had to return home and assume the role of leader before we graduated.”

“At sixteen or seventeen? How could anyone that young rule a country?”

“He was young, but had lots of advisors,” said Max. “By diligently working with the various factions in his country over the years, he’s been able to pull the country into a united front. Which probably saved its economy at the same time.”

“Isn’t Qu’ Arim known for oil and pearls?” she asked. She’d read up on the country when she’d first begun the translations.

Max nodded. “And fishing. Their pearl industry used to contribute a bigger percentage to their wealth, but money from oil far outweighs it now. Consequently that industry gets bigger press. But high-quality pearls from Qu’ Arim are well known and sought after by experts.” He stood up, signaling the end of the conversation. “Anyway, plan on staying a week. And you’ll need to bring something dressy—if I know Surim, we’ll attend at least one reception. We’ll leave early Sunday.”

Melissa nodded and rose, almost dancing with delight. “I appreciate this, Max.”

“You’ll be helping me out. If that contractor has anything new to report, I’ll need to have an instant translator. You’re up to speed on where we stand, so you’ll be more valuable than anyone new to the project who could translate,” Max said, grinning at her obvious excitement.

Melissa smiled back and left, and as she tidied her desk her bright smile refused to fade. She was going to Qu’ Arim! She loved to travel and see new sights. She’d visited much of Europe on holidays, but she’d never been to the Middle East with its exotic and mysterious settings. And what better time of year to escape the rain and cold of London?

It was dark by the time she left the building a short time later. She stared at the dreary January weather, wondering if she could catch a cab or was destined to take the underground and then walk the few blocks to the house. She had her umbrella, but the thought of splashing through cold puddles for several blocks held no appeal. Instead, she dwelt on the thought that in only a few days she’d be in sunshine and warmth.

When Melissa reached home, she was disappointed to find it empty. She was anxious to share her good news. Her mother and Robert had probably gone to an afternoon matinee or something. Robert and her mum were in the honeymoon stage, having been married less than a year. While she was glad for her mum—it had been far too long since her own father had died—nevertheless sometimes she felt left out.

Had things gone differently with Paul, Melissa might have been the one in the early stages of marital bliss. She’d been so wrong in her judgement. It made her wary now of trusting her instincts. She refused to think about the man any longer. He was in her past, and she was a wiser woman because of it.

Shaking off gloomy thoughts, she went upstairs to her room. She had time to shower and change before dinner. She wondered if she could find further information about Qu’ Arim on the Internet. It was one thing to read casually about the country for work, something else to learn all she could before actually visiting the place.

Sunday morning, Max and Melissa caught an early flight to Rome where they changed for a plane to Qu’ Arim. It was late afternoon when they landed. Immediately after exiting the plane, Melissa raised her face to the sun. Its warmth felt fabulous! The air was perfumed with the sweet scent of plumeria mixed with that of airplane fuel. The soft breeze that wafted across her skin felt as silky as down. Soon they’d be away from the airport and she could really enjoy scents that vied for identification.

“I already love it here,” she said as they walked across the tarmac.

“Did you say something?” Max asked, a bit distracted. He was in full business mode, having worked on the plane and now carrying his briefcase almost as if it were a part of him. Melissa wasn’t surprised. The man loved his work. He ate, slept and breathed it as far as she could tell. Though, he wasn’t a hermit. He did his fair share of dating, according to her mother.

“It’s nice here,” she said, trying to match his businesslike attitude. Inside, however, she felt sheer excitement. She hoped she had some free time to explore while she was here. And maybe spend an afternoon at the beach. The Persian Gulf had been a heavenly blue when they had circled preparing to land.

They were met inside the terminal by a tall man with dark hair and almost black eyes. He smiled at Max when he spotted him and Melissa felt her heart skip a beat. She’d thought Max handsome, but this guy was something else! His charcoal-gray suit and red power tie were very western. She glanced around; most of the men wore suits, few wore the more traditional Arab robes.

In fact, she could have been in any airport in Europe. For a moment she was disappointed. She wanted to see more of the exotic aspects of this country, not find it was just like any other capital she’d seen.

Melissa spotted two men standing nearby, scanning the crowd. The local equivalent of guards, she guessed from the way they behaved.

Max turned and made the introductions. Sheikh Surim Al-Thani inclined his head slightly, reaching for Melissa’s hand and bringing it to his lips. The warmth of his lips startled her, but it was the compelling gaze in those dark eyes that mesmerized. She felt her heart race, heat flooded through her and she wondered if he came with a warning label—dangerous to a woman’s equilibrium.

“Welcome to Qu’ Arim,” he said formally, his voice deep and smooth with the faintest hint of accent. “I hope your stay will be enjoyable. Please let me know if there is anything I can provide for you while you are here.”

“Thank you,” Melissa mumbled, feeling halfway infatuated by the sheer animal magnetism she sensed in the man. She could listen to him all day. His hand was warm and firm, almost seeming to caress before he released hers. She felt a fluttering of awareness at his intensity when he looked at her. Giving herself a mental shake, she tried to think of the mundane reason for her visit. She was definitely not here to get a crush on Max’s friend.

She glanced back and forth between the two men as they spoke. Both carried an air of assurance and confidence that was as appealing as their looks. But it was Surim who captured her attention. Before she could think about it further, their host gestured toward the entrance.

Their small group began to move toward the front of the airport. She gladly let Max and Surim talk together while she looked eagerly around, taking in the crowds of travelers in the various dress. There was a mixture of languages, some she recognized as European. She wondered how hard it would be to learn some Arabic while she was here.

Melissa and Max were ushered into a luxurious stretch limousine while one of the men attending the sheikh went to fetch their luggage. Melissa settled back in her seat and gazed at the landscape, trying to ignore the growing sense of awareness she felt around the sheikh. He joined them after speaking to his men and Melissa was hard-pressed not to stare. Resolutely she gazed out the window.

Flowers and soaring palms lined the avenue, softening the austere lines of the airport terminal.

As the sheikh continued his discussion with Max as the limo pulled away from the airport she occasionally glanced in his direction, intrigued as never before. Surim Al-Thani was slightly shorter than Max, but at six feet still towered over her own five feet three inches. His dark hair gleamed. She wondered if it was as thick and silky as it looked.

When he met her gaze she felt flustered. She had been rude. Yet when his eyes caught hers for an instant she continued boldly staring—this time directly into his dark gaze. Growing uncomfortably warm, Melissa finally broke contact and again looked out the side window. Her heart skipped a beat, then pounded gently in her chest. Concentrate on the scenery, she told herself, meaning that outside view, not the handsome sheikh who sat opposite her.

She wished she’d questioned Max more about their host. While working with the children in the resort in Switzerland, she’d met all levels of society. This attraction wasn’t due to his wealth, or even his power. He was simply one sexy man and Melissa wondered how much she’d get to see him during their visit. The less the better, she was starting to think.

The thoroughfares were wide and straight, with banks of flowers in the center islands. Because the limousine’s windows were closed to contain the air-conditioning, she couldn’t tell if the flowers she saw were the ones that smelled so fragrant at the airport. But their bright blossoms danced on the breeze.

She wasn’t listening to the conversation, but became aware of when it stopped. Glancing away from the window, she saw both men looking at her.

“Did I miss something?” she asked.

“I was telling Surim that your fluency in French is why I brought you,” Max said.

“It is the second language here in Qu’ Arim, though English is gaining favor,” Surim said in French.

She wondered if he was testing her. She replied in the same language, “It was the primary language where I worked before, so I have become quite proficient. I’m the one who translated the documents from the construction firm that you sent to Max recently.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. Returning to English, he glanced at Max. “I hope you will be pleased with the site I’ve chosen for Bella Lucia. It is right on the water, with palm trees framing the view. We can drive by before heading home if you like.”

Max quickly agreed.

Melissa felt she wouldn’t mind seeing the site herself. Right on the water—it sounded fabulous.

And it was. The construction site was quiet. The framing of the main building had begun, concrete had been poured, pipes were sticking up in various locations. Max and Surim donned hard hats and headed for the far end of the building.

“You stay out of the construction site,” Surim said to Melissa.

Another time she might have been annoyed at such a high-handed command, but she was too enchanted with the setting to care. She would much rather walk down to the water’s edge than traipse through a construction zone any day.

The driver of the limo leaned against the hood and watched the men. The two men who had been with the sheikh at the airport had followed them in a separate vehicle. One remained with that car, the other hurried to catch up with Surim and Max. Apparently they took their security seriously, though there was not another soul in sight.

Melissa climbed out of the limo and headed for the water. Her shoes were not at all suitable for the sand, so she kicked them off. Her stockings would undoubtedly be sandy when she put the shoes back on, but she’d deal with that later.

The sugar-white sand was soft and warm. She found the going easier when she reached the damp hard-packed sand near the water’s edge. The deep blue of the Persian Gulf stretched before her. She drank in the clean air, relishing the slight salty tang. Turning, she studied the outline of the resort. The main building would be three stories tall, with a high roof. She could see the men at the far end where the restaurant must be situated. Palm trees fluttered in the breeze. It was an ideal setting.

Looking left and right, she was amazed there weren’t scores of families enjoying the beach. But as far as she could see in either direction, it was pristine and empty.

She’d love to go swimming, but that was totally out of the question. At least for today. Would she get time off while they were here? She needed to remember she’d come to work, not vacation. But the water was so tempting.

Glancing around, she saw Max and Surim heading for the car. Reluctantly, she returned as well, dusting off her feet as best she could before donning her shoes.

“Enjoying yourself?” Surim asked when they reached the limousine.

She met his glance as she slipped her feet into her shoes. Did she detect a hint of amusement? “It’s fantastic. But I’m puzzled why the beach is so empty. I’d think hordes of people would enjoy a day here.”

“That is my hope as well, once the resort is completed. In the meantime, construction holds certain danger, so I have closed the area for the duration of building,” Surim said.

“I see.” All that lovely empty beach. She sighed. There went her idea for swimming.

They resumed their places in the limo and in only a short time they turned into a long driveway flanked on either side by tall palms. Melissa looked with interest at Surim’s estate. She had no idea of what kind of place a sheikh might own. Somehow she’d thought maybe a lavish tent like in Arabian Nights.

The edifice surprised her. Max hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said it was large enough for a battalion—it was huge. Whitewashed walls with terra-cotta trim reflected the bright sunshine. High arches of windows, outlined by ornate fretwork and mosaics inlaid in bright colours, provided symmetry on the front. A wide veranda seemed to encircle the entire three-story structure. Quite simply, it was stunning.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, now taking in the colorful flowers that grew in profusion right to the edge of the veranda. Gently waving palm trees encircled the house, while a lush lawn stretched out in all directions. Her gaze was drawn to an elegant fountain in the front, providing a focal point to the circular drive. The watery spray made dozens of sparkling rainbows. She sighed wistfully. What a magnificent place to live.

“Are you near the Gulf?” she asked, not seeing any signs of the sea, but still smelling that slightly salty tang in the air even in the car.

“There is a path from the back of the house that leads to a private beach. It is not far, only a short walk,” Surim said. “Perhaps you’d care to go for a swim sometime during your visit.”

She smiled at him. “Yes, I would. It’s freezing in London right now.” Would he join her if she went swimming? She looked away, afraid he’d see the hope in her eyes.

As she followed her host into the house a moment later, through large acacia wood double doors carved into intricate designs and polished to a gleaming shine, she wondered why Max had brought her since Surim spoke French fluently. To have an impartial person on his side? Not that she could imagine the sheikh being the slightest bit dishonorable. Of course he was probably too busy to translate mere construction documents.

Or, as her mother had suggested, maybe the trip was a treat for the work she had already done. It didn’t matter; she was thrilled to be here.

The interior of the house was cool, though not apparently due to artificial means. Windows were wide open allowing a balmy breeze to flow through. The tall ceilings allowed the air to circulate freely.

Rich colorful furnishings filled the room to the left. She followed the men and stood in the doorway, her sandy stockings starting to annoy her. How soon could she escape to her room and change?

“You must be tired from the journey,” Surim said. “I’ll have my housekeeper show you to your room. Dinner will be at eight.”

“Thank you,” Melissa said, glancing at Max to make sure her departure would be all right with him. There wouldn’t be any work today, would there? Surely if he and the sheikh were such old friends they had lots to catch up on.

“Good idea. That’ll give you and me time to look over the plans. I’ve noted some changes I want in the kitchen area,” Max said.

So much for catching up on their personal lives. Was work the only thing these men cared about?

Melissa pulled back the cool sheets from the high bed. It was after eleven and she was tired. Slipping beneath the light covers, she lay back on the mattress, her head still swimming from the conversation at dinner. It had only been the three of them in the ornate dining room that could have seated fifty-four easily. The primary topic of conversation had been the new restaurant and resort.

She would have preferred an alfresco meal on the veranda, with more talk about Qu’ Arim to enable her to learn more about the country. Maybe with another guest or two to round out the numbers. It was apparent the sheikh liked things formal. It was a good thing she was only here a week; the protocol would drive her crazy.

After dinner, she’d excused herself to wander in the gardens. They’d been illuminated with subdued lighting. She’d walked down one path and then another, exploring little nooks and thoroughly enjoying herself. It was such a change from wintery London.

Melissa began settling on the pillow, her eyes closing as she reviewed what she needed to remember for the morning. They would eat at seven and head for Surim’s offices where she and Max would meet with the contractor. Then they would—

A sudden shriek startled her. She sat up. What had that been?

Listening intently, she heard another shriek and then a child crying.

The sheikh wasn’t married, at least not that she knew. But that was definitely a child. She got up and found her robe, pulling it on as she hurried to her door.

Opening it, she could clearly hear the wailing. It came from the third floor.

Her heart hurt to hear a child cry so wretchedly. She ran lightly down the hall to the stairs she had seen earlier and quickly gained the third floor. Rushing to an open doorway, the light spilling into the hall, Melissa halted at the scene before her.

Surim had shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. His hands were on his hips and he glared at three young children huddled on a sofa. An older woman stood near a door on the opposite wall, wringing her hands. The oldest child looked to be seven or eight, a toddler leaned against her. It was the little boy, about four or five, who was crying so hard.

Without a thought, Melissa stormed into the room.

“What is going on?” she asked. Moving past Surim, she gathered the little boy in her arms, brushing back his hair and hugging him as she sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s the matter, little man?” she asked in her most soothing tone.

The other two children looked at her with startled surprise, then glanced nervously at Surim.

Melissa turned, the little boy in her arms, and glared at the sheikh.

“These children should have been in bed long ago; it’s after eleven,” she said in her firmest nanny tone.

“That is what I have been telling them,” Surim said, his own voice showing his frustration. “Their nurse has been unable to control them. When Hamid awoke with a nightmare, he woke the others. Now they won’t return to bed. If they don’t behave, I’ll have to find new accommodations for them.”

“That’s the coldest thing I ever heard a father say!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not their father,” he returned.

The little boy rested his head on Melissa’s shoulder, quieting. She hugged him again and looked at the other two. They looked tired, scared and wary.

“Well, whose children are they and why were they left with you?” Melissa asked. The woman moaned slightly and lowered her gaze.

Surim lowered his hands and took a step closer, anger evident in his eyes.

“My household is not your concern. You are merely a guest. Here because Max requested it.”

“Children are my concern, however, and if you can’t take proper care of these children, I shall report you,” she replied hotly. The foolishness of the comment struck her. Surim was the leader of the entire country. To whom would she report him?

Surim narrowed his eyes, anger threatening to choke him. Then the absurdity of what she’d just said penetrated. His anger immediately cooled. For a moment he thought he’d challenge her on that. He looked at Melissa, then at the children. They shrank away from him. He was not a monster. He would never strike a child. Yet they walked as if on eggshells around him.

No wonder—he had no clue how to care for children. He’d hired Annis to watch them. But they were proving too much for her. Not that he had any intention of sharing that information with his guest. Maybe boarding schools were the answer.

He looked back at Melissa. She might be petite, but she looked as if she’d fight him to the death. And she didn’t even know the children.

“These are my cousin’s children. Nadia, Hamid, and Alaya. They have come to live with me recently and we haven’t found our way yet. I would prefer you not report me.” Surim let the humor of the situation defuse the tension. He had never heard anyone in Qu’ Arim threaten to report him before. The novelty was priceless.

“Perhaps they should return home,” Melissa said.

“Unfortunately, their parents were killed in a car crash and they have no home to return to. As their guardian, I now provide for them.”

Surim watched as Melissa shifted Hamid in her arms. He had to be growing heavy. At least she had been able to stop his crying, for which Surim was grateful. The nightmares came regularly and Annis seemed incapable of doing anything to stop them. Not that he himself had been any help. Yet Max’s little friend seemed to have the knack of quieting the child. He’d take any help he could get at this point.

He looked at her once more, surprised to see she was in a gown and robe. Her hair looked soft and touchable, her eyes sparkled with righteousness indignation. And the color that rose in her cheeks intrigued him.

Max had asked if his assistant could come, more for a holiday than for needed work. Was there something between the two of them? Surim had not seen anything. Which didn’t mean she was totally unattached. Was there a man waiting for her in London?

“Perhaps you’d help get the children settled for the night,” he said, dragging his speculation back to the matter at hand. With a glance at Annis, he shook his head. The nurse had proved most ineffective when dealing with these children. How hard could it be to put three children to bed at a reasonable time each night? Weren’t nurses supposed to be able to deal with nightmares and other problems Hamid seemed to have?

“Perhaps I should.” Melissa looked at the two girls. “Hi, I’m Melissa. Want to help me get Hamid to bed? Then I’ll tuck you both in and read you all a story.”

“Our room is across the hall,” the older girl said. “Hamid couldn’t hear the story from his room.”

“Then tonight why don’t we have all three of you sleep together, and then everyone can hear at once?”

“I wuv stories,” the littlest one said.

“They speak English,” Melissa said, looking at Surim.

“Their parents lived in England. They were all three born there,” he replied.

“Ah, I’m from England, too,” she told the children. “Let me tell you about the weather when I left, cold and rainy. They even thought there might be snow in the north before the end of the week. It’s much nicer here.”

Surim watched as the Englishwoman seemed to effortlessly gather the children to her and head them to the girls’ room. In a moment all he heard was her soft murmur.

“I’m sorry they disturbed you, Your Excellency. The boy had a nightmare and the girls awoke to come to his aid,” Annis said in Arabic.

Surim sighed. This was the fifth or sixth time since they’d arrived it had happened. When would it stop?

“It is to be expected, I suppose. We will discuss the situation in the morning,” he said.

The older woman scurried away. Surim wished she’d shown a little of the backbone Melissa Fox had when she’d taken him to task. Annis had come highly recommended, but Surim didn’t think much of her abilities with these children. Unlike Melissa Fox, who had miraculously charmed them all.

Himself included?

Report him, indeed.

He crossed the hall and paused near the opened door. The three children were snuggled together in the large bed. Melissa sat in a chair near the head, reading a story. Already little Nadia had her eyes closed. Hamid was fighting sleep.

Surim watched as Melissa seemed to calm them all, and bring much-needed rest.

He waited until she checked the children, gently closed the book, and turned off the light. She made it seem easy. Yet he had no idea of what to talk about to a child.

When she stepped into the hallway, she was surprised to see him.

“Thank you for getting them to sleep,” he said formally. He was embarrassed a guest in his home had had to involve herself with his responsibilities. But the quiet was much appreciated. He hoped they slept through the night this time.

“I apologize for speaking to you as I did earlier. It was not my place,” she said, equally formally, looking just beyond his left ear.

It was a perfect apology, but he didn’t believe she really meant it. From the stiff way she held herself, he had an idea she’d like to tear into him and berate him for not being a better guardian for the children.

“I hope they will not interrupt your visit a second time,” he said politely.

She flashed him an annoyed look and turned to walk down the hall. “Children don’t annoy me.”

Lucky her, that children didn’t annoy her. Or baffle her as they did him. He expected them to do as they were told, but had found in the three weeks they’d been in his home that expectation was not met more times than it was.

He glanced into the darkened room once more, feeling a sharp pang at the thought of his cousin Mara’s death. She and her husband had been too young. And he had never expected to be named guardian of three children under the age of nine. He knew nothing about children. He’d have his secretary begin researching boarding schools in the morning. There had to be some that would take children as young as two.

CHAPTER TWO

MELISSA dressed in a navy suit and sensible shoes the next morning. She and Max were meeting with the contractor at Surim’s offices. Then they would all view the site again, with the foreman explaining each stage. She would begin to earn her salary today. That was if Surim would still let her work. Melissa sighed. She really shouldn’t have threatened him last night. Would he mention the incident to Max? She needed to watch her tongue and not blurt out things before thinking.

Breakfast was served buffet-style in the dining room. Max was sitting in the spot he’d occupied last night when Melissa entered. After a quick glance around, she breathed a sigh of relief. Surim was not present.

“Good morning. I hope I’m not late,” she said to Max.

“Not at all.” He looked up from the English newspaper he was reading, hot tea steaming by his hand. “Surim left a while ago. He’ll meet us when we get to the office. Help yourself to breakfast.”

Melissa didn’t know if Surim normally ate a hearty English breakfast or had had one set out for his guests, but she gladly dove in. The amount of food out on the sideboard for two people was staggering, yet she saw no sign of the children. She wondered if they’d slept through the night without further incident.

“What do you think of Qu’ Arim so far?” Max asked when she sat opposite him. He folded his paper and laid it aside.

Melissa smiled. “About what I expected with a country that has such strong ties with Europe. The downtown buildings are taller than I expected and much more modern. Overall it looks very prosperous. And I especially love the flowers that grow in such profusion.”

“Surim’s done a terrific job. He was telling me about his plans for expanding their tourist market, which is the reason for the resort. He has an aggressive schedule devised to lure in European and American money. If anyone can pull it off, he can.”

“That’s why he wants Bella Lucia?”

“Of course. Anyone from the UK will recognize the name. As we stand for the highest quality it will be a strong draw he wants for the initial guests,” Max said.

She nodded, glancing at the doorway as she strained to hear any sounds from the children. But the house remained silent. Were they still sleeping? She’d like to spend more time with them. She hadn’t realized how much she’d miss children until she’d taken this extended break between her old job and her new. It was the longest she’d gone without interacting with small children since she’d finished her training.

“I’m ready when you are,” Max said, folding his napkin.

Melissa took a final swallow of her coffee and stood. “Let’s go.”

They had the limo at their disposal and as they were driven through the city streets Melissa felt a hint of excitement at the thought of seeing Surim again. He hadn’t paid her much attention yesterday, and she’d been rude last night. Still, there was a fascination that hadn’t been quelled yet. She’d love to talk to him about his country, about how he felt taking the reins of leadership so young. What changes had he made? What were the plans for the future?

It wasn’t his looks alone that fascinated her. He was a challenge to talk to, seemed smarter than most men she had dated, and carried himself with confidence bordering on arrogance. Yet on him it sat well. She tried to pinpoint exactly why she felt drawn to the man. He definitely didn’t have a way with children. But many men left most of the child-raising to the wife. He had lots more going for him than being father of the year.

“Max, did you know Surim has three children living with him?” she asked.

“Umm? Children? I don’t think so; he’s not married. Though I heard he’s looking.”

“Maybe because he has those three children,” Melissa said. What did that mean, looking? Could she ask without giving the impression it was important?

“What children?” he said, looking at her.

“Their parents just died. They were raised in the UK and speak English as well as you or I do.”

Max looked at her in puzzlement. “How do you know this?”

“Didn’t you hear them last night? The little boy woke from a nightmare and was crying loud enough I heard him in my room.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” He looked pensive. “I can’t imagine Surim with children. Running a country, yes. Visiting Europe and squiring beautiful women around, yes. Kids, I don’t think so.”

“No surprise there. He didn’t seem to have an ounce of sympathy for the little boy.” She tried to maintain her indignation, but couldn’t help thinking of Surim’s side of things. If he wasn’t used to being around children, becoming an instant guardian to three would be daunting.

The limo stopped in front of a large high-rise glass and steel skyscraper. Max led the way and Melissa hurried to keep up. Tall people never seemed to consider that those not blessed with extraordinary height would have trouble keeping pace.

Entering a mirrored elevator, they were soon whisked to the top floor. Stepping out onto a luxurious carpet, Melissa gazed around, noting the old paintings on the walls, the elegance of the furnishings and the quiet hum of business.

She and Max were ushered into a conference room. The outer wall was of glass, offering a spectacular view of the Gulf. Melissa wanted to stand there and drink in the sight, but Surim was already at the large table with three other men. Introductions were quickly made—the contractor and his assistant, and Surim’s project manager. All the men from Qu’ Arim spoke French, so they used that language, Melissa translating into English for Max.

When she wasn’t speaking, she studied Surim. He had the capacity to totally focus on the situation at hand. Did he bring that focus to his new children?

Would he bring that focus to a woman? She could imagine being the center of his attention; his eyes would gaze into hers. His conversation would be on topics she liked. And the woman would feel like a queen. Not that she would ever know. Not that she wanted to even venture there. She’d been burned badly by Paul and had no intention of flirting with a friend of Max’s. Max had trusted her enough to bring her as his assistant; she would do nothing to damage that relationship. How awkward it would be if Surim complained Melissa was flirting with him. She cringed at the thought.

But she couldn’t help glancing his way again. And came up against his gaze focused on her. He didn’t read minds, did he?

When it was time to go to the construction site, Melissa rode with Surim in his private car, which he drove. Max went with the others in the limo.

“I wished to speak to you privately,” Surim said as they merged into traffic.

“About?” For a moment, despite her best efforts of keeping a businesslike demeanor, her imagination soared. Would he reach out and take her hand? Tell her he was delighted she’d joined Max and would she spend time with him alone before they returned to England? Maybe she’d like to see a quiet place only he knew?

“To thank you for calming young Hamid last night. He has been troubled by nightmares a great deal.”

Her bubble popped.

“Not unexpected if he just lost his parents,” she said, feeling foolish after all. Thankfully no one else knew of her dumb daydreams. She really had to get control of her emotions. Paul should have cured her once and for all of getting ideas about rich, powerful men and their interest in a nanny. Especially with the cultural differences added in.

Surim nodded, focused on driving.

“Perhaps. I hope they won’t bother you tonight,” he said.

“No bother. I’m sorry they are going through such a trying time. It was fortunate they have family to take them in.”

“My cousin’s mother, Tante Tazil, is not well. She is unable to care for them. But I don’t believe they will remain with me for long. I have my secretary looking into boarding schools.”

“What? They’re too young to be sent away!” Good thing she didn’t have any illusions about the man; this would have shattered any lingering ones. Who would think of sending babies to boarding school?

“I went to boarding school when I was nine, in England—which was a foreign country to me. We are looking at schools in England. That is their native country, even though their parents were from Qu’ Arim. They have been raised there and I thought it would make them feel better to be back there.”

“Nadia is still a baby, Hamid can’t be five yet and Alaya is still too young to be sent away. Think, Surim, they are children. They have just suffered a horrific loss of both parents. Being here took them away from the only home they knew, and now you’re proposing to shunt them off to some school—if you can even find one that will take them that young.”

“I’m sure that will not be a problem.”

The arrogant statement caused Melissa’s blood to boil. Men who were obscenely rich thought money could buy everything. But not family ties, not love and loyalty, nor negation of his responsibility to his cousin’s children.

“Maybe not to you, but think of them,” she said. “It would be horrible.”

“They are unhappy and disruptive. During the day they run wild around the house, yelling and breaking things. At night Hamid has nightmares and awakens the entire household. Their nurse cannot control them. I believe a more structured environment would be beneficial. It is not open for discussion; I was merely informing you of my plans.”

They had reached the site of the hotel and he turned to park beside the row of cars and trucks near the building. The activity at the site was a stark contrast to yesterday. The lot was crowded with workers. Trucks of cement were dumping their loads. Men and machines worked as if choreographed, building a structure that would reflect the desires of their sheikh to expand tourism for his country.

Melissa ignored it all, however. She was so angry she could spit! How dared he mess those children around like that? They needed stability and love, guidance and assurance that they were part of a family—not to be sent away from the only relative who was apparently able to look after them.

She reached out and caught his arm, stopping him from exiting the car.

He looked at her with some surprise.

Amazed at her own audacity, she nonetheless held onto her courage. “There has to be other alternatives. Think, please. They’re babies. They need comforting, love. You are their cousin, their guardian. Spend time with them or find other family members who can care for them. Don’t send them to some institutional school so far away.”

“I believe I know what is best for the children.” He slipped his arm from beneath her hand and climbed out of the car.

“I don’t think so,” she muttered, opening her own door and getting out before he could come around to assist. Her opinion of the man dropped significantly! How could he do that to those precious children?

Max had said he was looking for a wife. Maybe his attitude was one of the reasons he wasn’t already married.

Yet her heart ached for those sweet children. Maybe she’d find a way to make him change his mind.

Melissa was tired by the time she and Max returned to Surim’s house in the late afternoon. Dinner would not be for a couple of hours. She quickly showered and put on some casual, light trousers. No one had said she couldn’t visit the children, so she went up to the third floor.

They were sitting in front of a television, the program in Arabic. Why weren’t they outside in the sunshine?

“Hi,” she said, stepping inside the room.

All three kids scrambled to their feet and rushed to greet her.

“You came back,” Alaya said in perfect English. “I didn’t think we’d see you again. I’m sorry Hamid woke everyone up last night.”

“I had a nightmare,” the little boy said.

Nadia held up her arms and Melissa scooped her up, hugging her gently, then resting her on her hip.

“What are you doing inside on such a gorgeous day? I heard there’s a path to the beach,” Melissa said. She smiled at the older woman sitting with crochet work in hand.

“Do you mind if I take the children out for a walk?” she asked in French.

With the nurse’s agreement, she told the children to get ready. “We’ll walk there and back. But only on the condition you are on your best behavior,” she admonished, remembering what Surim had said about their running wild.

“We haven’t been outside except to the gardens. Annis doesn’t like to go far. She’s old,” Alaya ended in a whisper.

“Well, I’m not and I’m up for a walk to the beach. Sun cream first and then we’ll leave,” Melissa said. The nurse wasn’t that old—she looked to be about fifty—but to a young girl she probably did seem elderly.

The outing proved to be full of fun. Melissa forgot about being tired and held Nadia’s and Hamid’s hands. Alaya walked on the other side of Nadia, chatting freely.

“We’ve been here a long time it seems and never seen the beach. Our parents died, you know. I really miss Mummy. Is the water cold?” Alaya asked.

“I think it’s warm. We’ll find out together.” Melissa found the gate leading out of the garden and followed the neatly kept path. In only five minutes they reached a pristine stretch of beach totally empty in both directions. The children ran toward the water.

“Don’t go in until I get there,” Melissa called, running after them. It felt so good to be free of office clothes, to be running in the sunshine. The laughter of the children warmed her heart. She was glad she’d followed her instincts and sought them out.

The children kicked off their shoes and waded in the warm sea. Melissa quickly followed, getting the bottoms of her trouser legs wet, but she didn’t care. She was happy to enjoy the excitement of the children.

“I want to go swimming,” Hamid said, splashing his sisters.

“Whoa, not so much water. Another day we’ll ask about swimming. How about we race along the water’s edge? Who can run the fastest?” Melissa said, looking to channel some of their energy. They probably got into trouble in the house from sheer curiosity and exuberance. She’d make sure they got enough exercise to sleep soundly tonight.

“Me,” little Nadia said.

“I can,” Hamid said.

They were off, running at the edge of the water, splashing and laughing. Alaya took off after them, with Melissa following.

When they tired of that, Melissa suggested they build a sandcastle.

Alaya looked sad. “Mummy and Daddy built a fabulous one the last holiday we had. We went to Cornwall.”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you are building a new sandcastle on this beach. It’s a long way from Cornwall, but sand is sand. Won’t you join us?” Melissa wasn’t exactly sure what to say to grieving children, but she knew it was good for the children to talk about their parents.

“You can tell us how to make one like your mummy and daddy built. Did you help them?” she asked.

Alaya nodded. “I miss them.” She started to cry. The other two ran to her, upset by their older sister’s tears.

Melissa reached out to draw her into her arms, hugging her warmly. “I know you do. You will miss them all your life. My daddy died when I was five and I still miss him. But the aching, crushing hurt will diminish, I promise. One day you’ll look back at all your memories so grateful to have them. They’ll bring smiles to your face and a lift of love to your heart.” Melissa wished she had more memories of her father. Alaya was older than she’d been. She would remember. But the others would not. It was so sad.

“I miss Mummy, too,” Hamid said.

Melissa sat on the sand, pulling Alaya down with her, and keeping one arm around her shoulder. She patted her lap and Nadia climbed on, while Hamid crowded from the other side. She wished she could hold each one until the hurt eased.

“Of course you miss them. They were your parents and loved you very much. You know they didn’t want to die.”

“It was a truck, crashing into them,” Alaya said. “The brakes failed, that’s what the policeman said. Why did it have to happen?”

“No one knows things like that, sweetheart,” Melissa murmured. “But you will be cared for here.”

“Nobody here knew our parents or talks about them. It’s as if they were never alive,” Alaya said.

“Your uncle knew your mother. Get him to talk about her and your father. I bet he has wonderful stories about when they were young,” Melissa suggested.

“He’s our cousin,” Alaya said, bitterness tingeing her voice. “He doesn’t want us. Mummy asked him long ago to be our guardian if something happened to them and he said yes. But he doesn’t want us.”

“He’s your family,” Melissa said, hoping it wasn’t a total lie. “He’s just not used to children. We need to find a way to have him feel more comfortable around you.”

“He’s getting married,” Hamid said, looking up at her. “Will she be our new mummy?”

“No, we are not getting another mother,” Alaya said firmly.

Nadia slipped her thumb into her mouth, watching with large eyes.

“Because of the age difference, I’m sure the sheikh wouldn’t mind if you called him Uncle Surim. His new wife will be your new aunt. Have you met her yet?”

“He’s looking,” Alaya said.

“Looking?”

“He needs to get married to have sons to carry on when he dies,” Alaya said.

“But he’s not going to die soon,” Hamid said, looking at his sister. “Is he?”

“No, he has to get married first,” Alaya said.

“How do you know this?” Melissa asked, curious.

Alaya and Hamid looked away.

“Sometimes we spy on him,” she said in a low voice.

“We sneak down the stairs and listen at the door, then run like the wind when someone leaves the office room,” Hamid said.

Melissa was torn between laughter at the picture, and telling them that spying wasn’t really a good thing.

“So he wants babies. They’ll be new cousins for you to play with,” she said, wondering why he was planning to send these adorable children away if he wanted children of his own. She hoped he found his wife soon, and she’d insist on keeping the children.

Paul’s scathing denouncement echoed in her mind. He hadn’t wanted children at all. He considered her involvement with them immature and beneath a woman he’d want to marry. For a moment she was back in the small restaurant hearing his voice, feeling each word as a dart piercing her heart. She’d thought they had so much going for them, until she’d voiced that thought and been soundly corrected. How had she misjudged him so much?

Shaking off the melancholy, she smiled.

“Let’s get going on those sandcastles. Dinner will be soon and we’ll have to return to the house.”

The children scrambled up and ran to the water’s edge again. Soon they were all mounding wet sand, trying to sculpt it with fingers. Melissa made a mental note to see if there were sand toys in the children’s nursery for future visits to the seashore.

Surim walked down the path to the beach alone. Annis had come to tell him the children had not returned in time for their supper. She was worried she’d done the wrong thing by allowing them to go off with his guest. Sometimes it was almost more than he could do to control his frustration. His aunt had insisted Annis be hired to watch her grandchildren. But however qualified Annis appeared on paper, her skill with the children lacked a great deal in his opinion.

As he approached the beach he heard laughter and happy chatter. Pausing by the last of the green grass, he observed four people caught up in building a sandcastle. Little Nadia for once didn’t have her thumb in her mouth. Hamid was laughing so hard he fell over and rolled on the sand. Alaya stood, running to the water to scoop some in her hands and carry it, dripping all the way, back to the ditch they’d built around the castle.

But the person he had the most difficulty recognizing was Melissa Fox. She looked like one of the children. Gone was her suit and her business attitude. Her hair was flying in the breeze, and her trousers were damp and sandy. He could see the joy in her expression. He was struck by how beautiful she was. Suddenly he was gripped with an urge to see her dressed in a designer gown, with pearls from Qu’ Arim at her throat.

Every one of them was having so much fun a pang of envy struck. Surim couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that. Or spent a carefree afternoon doing nothing more important than building a sandcastle.

Hamid rolled to his knees and caught sight of Surim. The merriment dropped instantly from his face. He said something and the others looked his way. Alaya stopped smiling and stepped closer to Melissa. Nadia popped her thumb back into her mouth and regarded him warily.

Was he frightening to these children? He remembered his cousin Mara fondly. They’d played together when he was younger—not any older than Hamid. He’d seen her often when home from school, before his father had died and his life had changed so drastically. He’d never expected her to die young, or for himself to wind up responsible for her children.

Melissa rose, dusting some of the sand from her clothes.

“Are we late?” she called. She spoke to the children and as one they turned to walk to the water and swish their hands clean. Picking up their shoes, they moved to stand just behind her. In a moment, the little line headed his way, almost like a mother duck with her ducklings following in a row.

Surim watched, fascinated at the change in his guest and the laughter he’d seen from the children. He had only seen them sad or scared or defiant. Melissa still looked carefree and happy, but the children had become solemn.

“Annis was worried when they didn’t return for dinner,” he said when Melissa drew close.

“Sorry about that. I forgot my watch. Guess my estimating the time from the sun isn’t very accurate.” She laughed. “But we were having such fun time seemed to fly.”

He looked at the pile of sand, then at the children. “A very fine castle,” he said awkwardly.

“I bet you and their mother made sandcastles when you were young,” Melissa said.

He was startled. He hadn’t said anything about Mara or her husband, fearing to upset the children.

“Did you?” Alaya asked hesitantly.

Surim regarded the little girl and nodded. “We did. And when we grew older, we had swimming races, and went waterskiing together. She and I were great friends during the summers when I was home,” he said, remembering back before the world had changed and his childhood had ended abruptly.

“Where were you in not summer?” Hamid asked.

“I went to school in England. Where you used to live.”

“I miss home,” Hamid said forlornly.

“This will feel like home in no time,” Melissa said bracingly. “Right?” She smiled brightly at Surim.

He raised an eyebrow at her comment.

She smelled like sunshine and salt air. He noticed the deep green of her eyes, the glossy shine to her hair. There was a faint hint of pink on her cheeks—from the sun? She was shorter than most of the woman he dated, and much too young. But for a moment awareness flared.

Intellect didn’t rule the body all the time. He remembered how soft her skin had felt when he’d kissed her hand at the airport, a gesture foreign to him. Had he been making a show for Max’s friend?

Instinctively it had seemed right.

The children marched quietly into the house, all evidence of the joy he’d seen subdued by his presence. Surim wished he could change that.

“I’ll run up with the children and give Annis a hand getting them cleaned up,” Melissa said when they reached the stairs.

“Our own dinner will be in thirty minutes.”

“Then I’ll have to hurry.” She herded the children up the stairs without another glance in his direction.

For an instant, Surim wished she’d been as eager for his company as she was for the children’s. He had no trouble in the romance department. Though none of the women he knew held the same appeal that Melissa held.

He was being pressured by several factions to take a wife, and have children to insure the dynasty. These days he seemed to be looking at every woman with the same question—could he live with her for the next fifty or so years? So far he hadn’t found anyone.

Melissa slipped into the dining-room chair just as Surim and Max came in from the study. Once they were seated, a servant entered from the kitchen with a platter of meat. Melissa had rushed through her ablutions; her hair was still damp. But she had not kept the sheikh waiting for his meal.

She listened as Surim and Max discussed business, wondering what other activities the sheikh participated in. He had to take women out if he was looking for a wife. Did he discuss business with them? Or was it all romance?

She wondered what a date with him would be like, what they would talk about. Did he discuss the orphan children in his care with them? Or maybe he concentrated on wooing the woman, delaying any talk of family until he decided she was the one.

In the meantime, perhaps she should offer some suggestions to getting to know the children? She shook her head, hiding a wry smile. As if he’d listen to her. Who was she to advise the ruler of Qu’ Arim? He had advisors galore. And a perfectly qualified nurse in residence. Though what the children needed was love and devotion and fun. And a chance to get to know Surim and establish new family routines and traditions.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Surim said, addressing her. “Too much activity today?”

Melissa looked up. “Oh, no. I enjoyed seeing the actual site of the new restaurant, and the plans you have for the resort. I’m sure it will be spectacular.”

“Of course it will,” Max said. “Surim doesn’t do things by half measures.”

“I thought to have a small gathering of friends and advisors before you leave. Most of them speak English, the ones who don’t speak French,” Surim said.

“I would like the opportunity to meet your friends here,” Max said. “I already know most of your friends in England.”

“And you, Melissa, would that please you?” Surim asked.

“I should be delighted to attend.” She wondered if he would bring one of his potential wives with him, and she was disturbed to realize how much the thought bothered her.

When dinner finished, they moved to the drawing room. As they walked Surim and Max continued their discussion of the possibility of expanding Bella Lucia beyond this one overseas restaurant.

Passing through the wide entry hall, Melissa heard a noise. Neither of the men seemed to notice. Glancing up, she spotted Hamid peering between the railings of the balustrade. She looked at Surim and Max. They were too engrossed in their conversation to hear such a slight noise.

When they reached the living room, Melissa paused at the doorway.

“If you two will excuse me, I think I’ll go on up.”

Surim looked at her, frowning. “I apologize that our conversation centered on business. You must be tired of it after the long day we put in. We will change the topic.”

“No, you two talk all you want. Max won’t be here that long and I know you’re friends from way back. I’ll see you in the morning.”

His dark eyes seemed to hold her gaze as he weighed her words. “Very well.” With a slight inclination of his head, he turned back to Max.

Hurrying up the stairs, Melissa caught Hamid and Alaya as they tried to run down the hall.

“Hey, you two, stop right there.” She kept her voice low, but knew the children heard her.

They stopped and looked back, nervously waiting as Melissa went to them.

“I thought we talked earlier about not spying,” Melissa said in her sternest voice.

“We wanted to see you tonight,” Alaya said.

“Do you know where my room is?”

Alaya nodded.

“In the future, wait there if you need to see me. Or leave me a note. But no more spying; it’s wrong.”

Alaya nodded. Hamid looked at his sister, then nodded solemnly as well.

“Now, what’s up?” Melissa asked, smiling at the children.

“We wanted to see if you would read us a story,” Hamid said. “Annis only reads in French and we don’t understand.”

“Or she speaks Arabic and we only know a few words that Mummy and Daddy taught us,” Alaya said.

“You will feed to learn the language if you’re staying here,”

Melissa said. She started walking to the stairs leading to the third floor. “Maybe we’ll ask Annis to start Arabic lessons in the morning. Tonight, I’m happy to read you a story. Is Nadia already in bed?”

“Yes. She was sleeping when we came down,” Alaya said. “I wish we didn’t have to stay here. Everything’s so different from home.”

“You’ll get used to things in time, then it will be like having two homes. The one you had in England, and your new one here. Do you have friends back at home?” Melissa asked.

Alaya nodded.

“Have you written to them about your new place?”

The little girl shook her head.

“That would be fun for them to receive a letter from you telling them all about this house, your uncle and Annis. I bet none of them have ever been to Qu’ Arim. Maybe you could get some photos to include in the letter.” Melissa smiled as the enthusiasm started to show on Alaya’s face. “This house is fantastic. Just a photo of the front would look like a museum or something.”

“I’d like to write to Sally and Marta. You think they’d write back to me?” she asked wistfully.

“I’m sure of it. First thing tomorrow, I’ll have Annis make sure you have paper and pencil. You write as much as you wish and then we’ll get your uncle to post it,” Melissa said.

“I should be delighted,” Surim said behind them.

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