The Sheikh Surgeon's Proposal
The certainty overrode her agitation, focusing her away from her own turmoil. There was an emergency. Now, if he’d only deign to tell her what it was!
He finally snapped his phone shut, looked down at her, his face a grim mask. Then he turned on his heel and strode away.
After a stunned moment she grabbed her bag and heaved herself to her feet, found him coming back with an older man in tow.
She froze at the urgency in his eyes, melted at the solicitous-ness in his hand on her bare arm.
“Janaan, this is Adnan El-Haddad, the proprietor, and he will be honored to serve you every meal from now on, whether from his establishment or any other you desire, in-house or delivered to your doorstep. And wherever you want to go and whatever you want to do in the kingdom, I’ll leave my personal driver and my top aide at your disposal, day and night, to fulfill your every demand.” He nodded to the man, waited for him to bow to her and turn away before he added, his voice plunging to bass reaches, “I would have given anything to have more time with you, but I am forced to leave you in my men’s care to attend to urgent business.”
“Will you, please, tell me what is going on?” Her demand was out, ragged, pleading, just as a sobering thought hit her. “If it’s not personal …” Though what she’d give to be of help if it was!
His brow furrowed. “Would that it were, Janaan. No—it’s a catastrophe in progress. The torrential rain that has swept our neighbor, Ashgoon, from where I just returned this morning, has hit Mejbel, a coastal region on Damhoor’s borders. Damage is spreading and the numbers of the injured, missing or dead are rising. I have to fly there immediately to organize rescue efforts, damage control and medical relief.” He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, gathered her to him in a hug full of apology and assurance. “I’ll be in contact as soon as everything is under control.”
With one final glance, crowded with so many emotions that she almost grabbed his face to fathom them, he turned her away from him, relinquished his hold on her gradually, ending with his fingers sliding off hers, making her feel she’d plummet down some abyss the moment he let go. Then he turned and strode away.
She stood transfixed, watching his powerful figure receding.
Then she shook off her daze and raced after him, vaguely registering the sound of approaching thunder. Once outside, she realized what it was.
A gigantic helicopter was landing in the parking lot, at least a hundred feet in length, its white fuselage giving off an eerie glow in the fading twilight and the subdued orange streetlights, the red crescent insignia on its side proclaiming it a medical transport.
Malek’s men raced to pull the door near its tail downwards, releasing in-built steps, and he rushed towards it, unbending even in the storm of the rotors’ unabated spinning.
In seconds he’d be on board, would fly away!
“Malek.”
He swung around at her frantic cry.
His face taut, he waved his men away as she ran towards him, struggling against the buffeting wind. He shouted over the din of the helicopter, “Janaan, I can’t—”
“Take me with you,” she gasped across his protest. His face froze before closing on instant and adamant rejection. Before he articulated it, she went on, “I am an emergency doctor. Who better to have on your medical relief team?”
“La ya Janaan.” She started to protest, and he gripped her arm and led her away from the chopper. Once far enough away from the noise, he looked down at her. “From early reports, conditions there are horrendous, and they will get worse before they get better.”
“So? I don’t see that stopping you.”
“It is my duty and my responsibility.”
“Ditto. I’m a doctor here, too. Helping the injured is the job description. Or am I supposed to join humanitarian missions only if they present no danger? If such missions exist.”
“How about starting with something less dangerous?”
“Like what? A drive on a satin-smooth and empty highway in broad daylight? We found out how safe that was this morning.”
His lips twitched. The next moment they were uncompromising, however, making her doubt she’d seen that sign of unwilling humor. “You’re staying here, Janaan, and that’s final.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “And what should I do while people who need my medical skill drown and die? Stay in my hotel, preferably under my bed? With my luck, Damhoor will be hit with its first earthquake and I’ll be crushed underneath it.”
He closed his eyes, visibly wrestling with his impatience. “Janaan, I don’t have time to argue—”
“Then don’t. Let me hop inside that chopper with you and let’s go do our job.”
“Your job is with GAO. Wait for their mission.” With that he turned away, his dismissal freezing her blood.
He’d just taken a couple of strides when she called out to him. He turned to scowl at her, the lights from the restaurant casting shadows on his annoyed, unyielding, brutally handsome face.
“Just to let you know, I am joining GAO’s mission—the one I’m sure they’ll organize to the afflicted region. If they don’t, I’ll fly there on my own. I’m sure any humanitarian effort will want my services. Maybe I’ll see you there.” Then she turned and ran towards the car he’d provided for her use.
Less than a heartbeat later both her arms were clamped inexorably by his hands. He couldn’t have moved so quickly!
But he was at her back, swamping her with his heat and presence, muttering to himself, “Ya Gawwi men hadi’l aneedah.”
That she got. She guessed. He was calling on God to help him endure her stubbornness.
Sure enough, he growled, “You stubborn firebrand.” Then he marched her towards the helicopter, his body shielding her from the buffeting that had almost swept her away when she’d first approached it. He took the four steps up in one bound then bent to her, scooped her up as if she weighed nothing.
As one of his men jumped inside after them and drew up the door, her heart slammed around inside her chest.
Malek still had his arm around her when minutes ago she’d been certain she’d never see him again. The fact that he was taking her with him was too much!
Her legs wobbled as he guided her through a cargo bay with dozens of folded seats lining its sides and towering crates marked as medical and relief supplies. In the next section, she saw many closed compartments flanking a bay that contained over a dozen emergency stations.