To Wed a Sheikh. Teresa Southwick

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To Wed a Sheikh - Teresa  Southwick


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aunt informed me just this morning that you’d arrived.” The full intensity of the prince’s black-eyed gaze rested on her.

      “A week ago,” she confirmed, settling her palm over her abdomen.

      “You’ve met the director of nurses?” he asked, frowning slightly.

      Ali nodded. “I like her very much.”

      “I regret we were compelled to hire someone else in the position first offered to you. But when you refused me—”

      “I’m delighted that there was still an opening on staff, Your Highness. The position as nurse-manager of Labor and Delivery is a terrific opportunity.”

      “You are not disappointed you’ll be unable to add something more prestigious to your résumé? As I recall, you found that tempting.” A gleam stole into his eyes as one corner of his mouth curved up.

      Her pulse skipped at the implication she hadn’t found him intriguing. She wasn’t about to share that his kiss could tempt a spinster out of her bloomers. But he probably already knew. After all, he had a reputation as an international playboy.

      She stuck her hands in the pockets of the white lab coat she wore over green scrubs. “Truthfully, I was a little nervous about that job.”

      “I do not understand. Your references are most impressive. You have a master’s degree in nursing, do you not?”

      Again his memory for details surprised her. “Yes. A five-year nursing program. But a degree is no substitute for experience. When I get to the top of my profession, I’ll need both.”

      “When?” His eyes were keen with intelligence and amusement. “You’re certain of the future?”

      She shrugged. “I’ve studied and worked hard. I’m good at what I do. Princess Farrah insisted I was ready now. I like to think she’s right. But I believe she offered the job to me because it’s difficult to get good help to come halfway around the world. I know my age could be a problem. At twenty-five, I’d have difficulty commanding respect from a staff of nurses who probably would have a great deal more practical training.”

      “My father ascended the throne of this country at the same age.”

      “That’s different.”

      “Indeed,” he said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “The director of nurses is child’s play by comparison.”

      “Maybe compared to running a country. But still a challenge,” she said, struggling to keep the defensive edge out of her voice.

      “I don’t dispute it. And I do not underestimate what you do. My country does not have enough health-care professionals to adequately staff the hospital. No matter how generous the compensation, you’re right that it’s difficult to find skilled, qualified and highly trained personnel willing to uproot their lives and come here to work. I am in your debt.”

      She had no life to put on hold, and since her mother’s death a year ago, no family to leave behind. Except a father who wouldn’t miss her since he’d turned his back on her long ago.

      “I’m looking forward to all the challenges of the job.”

      “My aunt has every faith in your ability to handle it in an exemplary manner.”

      “Princess Farrah is very kind.”

      “And apparently more persuasive than I. Since she convinced you to accept a job in El Zafir after all.”

      Ali absently twisted the cap on her pen. “Actually, I changed my mind about the job. I contacted her a few weeks ago to inquire about a position. She very kindly offered me a different one.”

      “Your fiancé must miss you.” His voice held the barest hint of a question.

      She stared up at him, noting his serious, interested air. For goodness’ sake, the man was a king-in-training. Didn’t he have more important things to remember than what she’d said almost half a year ago? “My fiancé?”

      “Indeed. You mentioned an engagement the night I escorted you to the charity auction. If I remember correctly, your exact words were that your fiancé would not jump up and down with joy if you took a nursing position halfway around the world.”

      He remembered correctly and way too much, Ali thought grimly. Unfortunately, she’d discovered after returning home that she and Turner Stevens, M.D., had not been on the same matrimonial wavelength.

      “As it turns out, Your Highness—”

      “Call me Kamal.”

      She blinked. “That doesn’t seem appropriate.”

      “In private, as we are now, it’s perfectly permissible. And if I wish, it will be so.”

      “Kamal,” she said, testing the name on her tongue. She wondered if he always got everything he wished for. If so, it must be good to be the crown prince. Because if he was trying to be a regular guy, it wasn’t working. There would always be a line in the sand between him and someone like her.

      And the whole behavior-with-royalty thing was foreign to her frame of reference. Did private mean just the two of them? That certainly wouldn’t happen often—if at all.

      “As it turns out—”

      “What?” he prompted.

      She sighed. “News of my engagement was greatly exaggerated.”

      “Oh?”

      “I turned down your job offer on the assumption that the man I’d been dating for a very long time was ready to propose.”

      “And did he?”

      Anger and pain joined with embarrassment, then formed a gigantic knot in her stomach. She briefly thought about fibbing, but decided against it. Lying to a future king could never be a good thing.

      “Yes, he proposed. Just not to me.”

      His dark eyebrows pulled together over black eyes brimming with something that looked a lot like male satisfaction. She was about to tell him what he could do with it.

      “So the jackal’s idiocy is El Zafir’s gain?”

      Then again, he did have a way with words. “What a lovely thing to say.”

      “As it turns out,” he said, paraphrasing her, “I do know you well after all.”

      She recalled him saying she wouldn’t have come all the way to visit his country if the employment offer was out of the question. She’d challenged his assumption that he knew her so well. But he’d been right. Even formidable Princess Farrah couldn’t have persuaded her to visit if she hadn’t been interested in the opportunity. Had she subconsciously known that a marriage proposal wasn’t in the cards for her? No. If she had, she wouldn’t have been so completely blindsided by the betrayal. And it wouldn’t have hurt so deeply.

      “How nice that one night’s acquaintance gives you insight into what makes me tick.”

      The words came out sharper than she’d intended. It wasn’t fair, or especially bright, to take out her frustration on the crown prince of an oil-rich, up-and-coming nation.

      “So, what brings you here today?” she asked, trying to change the subject. It wasn’t quite as transparent as “nice weather we’re having,” but close.

      His chin rose a fraction and his black eyes narrowed. “I am here every day.”

      Then why hadn’t she seen him before this? Maybe because his aunt had just told him of her arrival? What a difference a four-letter qualifier made. A glow started inside her but she shut it down stat. Her idea of adventure was traveling to an exotic land. It did not include falling for a guy who would kiss a woman he’d thought was engaged. She was too smart for that. Once burned, twice shy.

      “I see.” She picked up the clipboard


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