The Sheikh Surgeon's Proposal

She couldn’t help it. She giggled. “You said to save my exasperation.”

“And that was the right phrasing for the tongue-holding, stubbornness-halting incantation? If only I’d known earlier.” His lips spread, against his will it seemed, before that glazed look entered his eyes again. “You’re lucky I’m operating on a flat battery.” He lowered the barrier between them and his driver, muttered her hotel’s address then sprawled beside her. “Excuse me as I recharge on the way. But if you don’t wake me when we arrive, I’ll.”

“Yes?” she prodded when he didn’t come up with anything.

“Ma ba’ref. I don’t know, something dire …” he promised as he slipped into sleep.

Jay waited a few moments then rested her head inches from his, absorbing his every detail with far more greed than she’d done as he’d slept on the helicopter.

This time would be the last time.

But though the knowledge hurt—and she couldn’t dwell on how much it did—she was grateful for every minute she’d had with him. The past week, through the toil and exhaustion, working side by side with him to reach so many people in their acute need had been the best time of her life. But it was getting to know him that had catapulted it to the status of once in a lifetime. She counted herself lucky that she had met him, had been allowed to share that worthwhile time with him.

She suddenly remembered jeering at him the day they’d met, about his nights of excess, when he’d been returning from a three-week stint organizing the relief and relocation of Ashgoonian peasants whose villages had been destroyed in even worse torrential rain. That made it over a month he’d been literally on his feet, salvaging hundreds of thousands of lives.

And again she wondered that he’d let her get away with the slur. More than anything, she wondered why a man in his position would undertake such distressing, dangerous missions when he could just send people and resources.

But the answer was clear. He’d been born into ultimate privilege, wielded his power with the ease in which he breathed, but he thought nothing of dipping his hand in dirt and himself in pain and danger to fulfill the vocation he’d undertaken of his own choice, when any other man would have multiplied his wealth and power, when he’d only had to let his royal status secure him everything he wanted from life.

But it was clear what he wanted from life. The same thing she did. To be of use, to make a difference. But with his powers he was of infinite use, made such a far-reaching difference.

The car stopped. So did her heart.

God—it had only been fifteen minutes. Now she’d have to wake him to say goodbye. Just get it over with.

His name came out a choked whisper. “Malek.”

He jerked up, his eyes snapping open on a blast of alarm and confusion. “Janaan. What …?” He subsided. “Ya Ullah—I had this dream … and you were. But you woke me up!”

“You told me to,” she protested.

He blinked forcefully. “I’m still not sure if I’m dreaming this, if you didn’t leave me sleeping to teach me a lesson.”

“I said I would wake you up.”

“You could have only let me believe it so I’d—”

She interrupted him. “If I give my word, I keep it. We arrived, I woke you up, and as much as I’d love to listen to you on the untrustworthiness of my gender, I have to say goodbye and let you—finally—get to your bed.”

He bit his lower lip, his eyes steamy slits glowing in the limousine’s semi-darkness. Then he sat up, got out of the car. She knew what he’d do, had to beat him to it. She opened her door and sprang out. There was no way she was prolonging this.

He caught her elbow when she tried to hurry away. “Seems the incantation has worn off. Do I need to re-invoke it?”

Just end this. “Malek, you’re dead on your feet and I’m dying for that bath. So—let’s just say our goodbyes here.” She tried to regulate her breathing so she wouldn’t gasp like a fish thrashing on the pavement. She also had to—had to—tell him. “But before I go, I want to tell you that the last week has been my life’s most incredible experience. I’m grateful that you let me be a part of it all and—and that people like you exist.”

She swayed, whimpered, tried to turn around. He lunged for her arm, his grip fierce as he turned her towards the entrance of her hotel. Her moaned objection was met by his groan, thick and ragged. “Not another word, Janaan. I’m taking you to your door.”

It was a strange and not particularly pleasant experience, to be treated like some sort of celebrity in the two-and-a-half-pretending-to-be-four-star hotel where she’d previously had nothing more than inattention and grudging courtesy.

Everyone’s first sighting of Malek had been dramatic, to put it mildly. Eyes had turned on her and it had been like watching one of those sci-fi movies where people switched identities in mid-stare. She had a feeling they’d provide their bodies in lieu of ground for her to walk on from now on.

Everybody made way for them so by the time they reached her door, the hotel felt deserted. He opened it for her, stood back.

She took the unsteady step that would take her out of his realm, crossed the threshold, turned to him, praying he’d just turn around and leave, spare her this.

He didn’t. He stood looking down at her, tall and broad and indescribable, something poignant, defeated in every line of his body.

And she couldn’t say goodbye. Not like this.

And it wasn’t because she now knew what he was, because they’d shared that grueling experience or because she couldn’t bear seeing fatigue shadowing his face and dimming the indomitable life force she’d been amazed by.

It was because depletion had bared a vulnerability she hadn’t imagined. She sensed he needed solace, reprieve, and had never thought to ask for them, didn’t think they existed.

She stepped back over the threshold, wrapped trembling arms around all she could of him.

He stiffened in her embrace as if she’d electrocuted him.

Oh, God. She’d read it all wrong. He didn’t need comfort, not from her. He thought she was coming on to him!

Her feverish thoughts crashed and burned to ashes. All his tension was draining on a shuddering groan, his formidable body surrendering in her hold. He didn’t hug her back, just let her hug him, and hug him, moaning, resting his head on hers, swaying with her to the erratic cadence of their heartbeats.