The Nanny and The Sheikh. Barbara McMahon

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      “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 СКАЧАТЬ