The Sheikh's Reluctant American (The Adjalane Sheikhs 3)

Gordon looked between Malid and his father. “I guess we could do that.”

Nimr started to stand. Before he could, he gave a gasp and fell back in his chair, clutching his chest. Malid moved at once to his father’s side, felt for a pulse in his wrist and found it racing. Yelling for Hassan, he ordered the man to fetch Nassir at once.

Nigella came over and put a hand on Malid’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Malid shook his head, and Nassir burst into the room. “I think he’s having a heart attack. He needs to get to the hospital immediately.”

Nassir bent down over his father. “Malid, there’s a sandstorm brewing. It won’t be safe.”

Malid shook his head. “It will if I drive. Nigella, will you—?”

“I’m coming with,” she said, her tone flat and final.

Chapter 14

For a moment, Nigella thought Malid would argue with her. His mouth flattened, but the worry hadn’t left his eyes. She knew the danger—sandstorm. The sand could clog the engine—they could be trapped. But Malid gave a nod. Nassir, do you have scarves in your truck? Nassir gave a nod.

Malid and Nassir got their arms around their father. He grumbled a protest, but nothing more, and they picked him up as if he weighted nothing. Nigella hurried to the front doors to throw them open for him.

Calling out, Malid shouted, “Mr. Michaels, after the storm passes, please escort my mother to the hospital, and have Hassan send someone to find our brother, Adilan. He should be there as well.”

Outside, the wind had picked up. Nigella smelled the dry warmth of the desert and the bite of sand stung her cheeks. She could already see the sky darkening to brown in the west. “How long?” she asked Malid. She yanked open the doors to the truck—it was an extended cab. Malid and Nassir settled Nimr in the back seat, Nigella climbed in with him and fastened his seatbelt and hers. She took Nimr’s hand in hers—his pulse seemed erratic, but he was still aware and grumbling, telling everyone there was no need for such fuss.

Nigella fixed a stare on him. “Do you really want to die and leave Malid in charge?”

He frowned at her and said, his voice gravely, “You are impertinent.”

“So I’ve been told.” She dug into her purse and pulled out a small bottle of aspirin.” Opening it, she dug one out. “Chew and swallow. It’ll taste horrible, but it’s the best think for heart attack and that’s my guess for what you’re having. If it’s not, it’s not a stroke and the aspirin won’t hurt.” Nimr stared at her. She raised her eyebrows. “It’s your choice about the dying part—but I think your boys are trying to keep you around.”

Still grumbling about Western women who didn’t know their place, Nimr took the aspirin and chewed. Nigella glanced out the window. The sand made spitting noises as it hit the vehicle, and the sky had darkened even more, leaving the sun a red ball in the dirty sky. She found the headscarves Nassir had said he had in his car—tucked into a plastic bag. She dug one out for herself, then one for Nimr. He grumbled even more and pulled it from her hands, but his fingers trembled. She took it from him and began to put it in place as best she could.

Malid and Nassir had had a brief argument over who would drive, but Malid had won simply by climbing into the driver’s seat and buckling in. Nassir was forced to jump into the passenger’s side before Malid took off with a squeal of tires.

Gulping down a breath, Nigella figured this would be a wild ride, but Malid navigated his way with almost an instinct for how to stay on the road. She didn’t bother him with questions, but when it became almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front of the car, she turned her attention back to Nimr. He, too, kept his eyes closed. His breathing was fast and shallow. Sweat stood out on his forehead.

Nigella felt a stare on her. She wet her lips and looked up and met Malid’s stare in the rear view mirror—for once he wasn’t the cocky, arrogant man. He looked a worried son. And then he had to look back at the road.

The truck jerked to a stop. Nigella braced herself and started to ask what had happened. But Nassir and Malid jumped from the truck and came around to get their father out—they had to be at the hospital.

Above the howl of the wind, Malid yelled to Nigella, “Go inside. Tell them what’s happened.”

Nigella fumbled with her seatbelt, got it off, struggled with the door, and stepped out—the wind almost slammed her back. She grabbed her flapping scarf and got one end over her mouth. Hunched over, she ran for the brightest light, hoping that was the emergency room light from glass doors. It was. The double doors opened for her and closed, and then an interior set opened. She stepped back into a calm world, and got out the words, “Heart attack. Sheikh Adjalane.”

The staff jumped as if she’d hit them with a cattle prod. A gurney appeared, nurses rushed for the doors. Malid came in with Nassir, their father held between them, Malid coughing form the sand dust, and Nassir’s face hidden by his headscarf.

A flurry of activity erupted. Nimr was settled on the gurney, IV bags appeared along with monitors and cuffs and other equipment, and just as fast Nimr was whisked away.

Rubbing her arms, Nigella stepped up to Malid. “You okay?”

He shook his head. “I do not matter—but my father is in good hands. He built this hospital, so they will be aware of that. Knowing that their major benefactor is now a patient is a motivating force.”

Nigella managed a weak smile. Nassir headed over to the desk, Malid followed and the two began to answer questions put to them—when had the pain started, had he ever had anything like this before. Nigella interrupted to explain she had given Sheikh Adjalane an aspirin. The nurse nodded and kept asking questions—and then they were told to wait.

Sheikh Adjalane had been taken to the lab for cat scans and testing. Nassir yanked off his head scarf and strode away, calling back, “I am going for some tea.”

Malid turned to Nigella—and she saw in his eyes the fear that she would feel if it was her father in a hospital like this. Walking to him, she put her arms around him and held him tight. Malid stiffened a moment, then leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her.

***