The Sheikh Surgeon's Proposal

She finally located her voice and croaked, “What’s this thing? A flying hospital?”

He only gave her an inscrutable look as he steered her forward to a four-seat pressurized passenger compartment. Four men came out of what had to be the cockpit, and from what she knew of aircrews they had to be a pilot, a copilot, a navigator, and a flight engineer. She saw the respect with which they treated Malek, knew they considered him a superior—no, far more.

She had a vague idea that Damhoor had thousands of people related to the royal family who were of incredibly varying levels of importance and power. From the men’s reaction, it seemed Malek was fairly high on the royal food chain. And she couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to her to ask exactly what his position was! The man she’d shared so many firsts with.

Her first time as a first responder. Her first sharing of her life story with another. Her first plunge into total loss of control. So many world-shaking experiences. Her world, that was. And she knew nothing about him beyond his name, that he was a doctor and a sheikh, and obviously an important one.

Soon he sent the crew back to the cockpit, seated her and himself, fastened their seat belts, and the chopper took off without so much as a tremor.

As they soared, she felt Malek’s eyes on her. She tore her gaze away from the breathtaking sight of the glittering city receding beneath them in the deepening night and turned to him.

“In answer to your earlier question,” he drawled, “this chopper is the next best thing to a real flying hospital—it can land in Mejbel where there’s no landing strip. It’s an Mi-26MS helicopter, a Medevac version built to my specifications. It features an OR, an ER, an IC and sixteen stretcher stations. It’s carrying its top load of seventy thousand pounds of medical and relief supplies but, once unloaded, it can hold over a hundred people in the cargo bay.”

Before she could process the staggering resources and power that had secured such a giant and its equipment and supplies, his hands clamped her shoulders, turned her to him, burning more palm prints into her flesh. “So are you happy now your ruse worked?”

“What ruse?” She gaped at him.

“So cunningly giving me a choice between you being in danger with me or without me, knowing which way I’d jump.”

“I did no such thing!” she cried indignantly. “I was just telling you I didn’t need your approval to do my job!”

His gaze went on and on, boring into her, until she felt he could read her every thought. And that he would let his accusation go unwithdrawn and her protest unacknowledged.

Then he shook his head with a half amused, half incredulous sound. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I believe you.”

“Oh, I’m just thrilled! How lovely to have a slur withdrawn by such a near insult.”

His lips twisted. “Where’s the slur in the fact that females reach their goals through manipulation? And where’s the insult in my belief in your shocking deficiency in that basic skill?”

“You’d better watch it before you have an offensiveness overdose and slip into a chauvinistic coma,” she scoffed.

He barked a laugh. “If either can assure me of some solid sleep, I’d welcome it.”

She seethed at the unfairness of it all, that one person should be endowed with all that, that he’d probably make real offensiveness and chauvinism look delicious.

He adjusted his seat backwards, sprawled in a more comfortable position. “I hope you won’t think me more of an uncouth miscreant if I sleep until we reach our destination.”

She again noticed fatigue straining his face and dulling his eyes, felt contrite that she’d been the reason he’d gone an extra twelve hours without sleep, barely stopped herself from offering her bosom, or any part of her for more comfort.

“Please, go ahead. I’ll shut up now.” But before she did … “But, uh, you do believe I wasn’t being manipulative, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t have said I did if I didn’t.” His eyelids swept down until ridiculously thick lashes brushed razor-sharp cheekbones, his voice growing thicker and even more intoxicating with impending sleep. “What you did worked nevertheless. You may soon wish it hadn’t, though. I’m keeping you within three feet of me all through our time in Mejbel. And this, Janaan, is non-negotiable.”

Before she could say anything to that, he pulled her to him, bringing her head resting on his bosom, probably frying her speech centers permanently. Before his breathing fell into the regular cadence of deep sleep he murmured into her temple, “Get some sleep, Janaan. I foresee some harrowing times ahead. We’d better stock up on stamina.”

The last things Malek remembered before he surrendered to exhaustion was soaking up Janaan’s softness and warmth, filling his lungs with her scent and feeling his every nerve humming with the pleasure of her nearness.

The very things whose absence woke him up now.

He opened his eyes to the darkened cabin, felt she wasn’t there, not even on board, even before he felt that they’d landed.

Groggy with the coma-like sleep he’d plunged into, he snatched off his seat belt, heaved himself up to his feet, an unreasoning fear riding him that she’d somehow disappeared while he’d slept, that something had happened to her under his very nose.

As wakefulness chased away doubt, he was certain she’d just disembarked when they’d landed, not wanting to disturb him. And probably showing him she wouldn’t abide by his three-feet decree. He clamped his jaw. Oh, she would abide by it.

He might have succumbed to his need to have her with him, but he was keeping her within those three feet or less until the crisis was over. He was sending her back, no matter what she said, if he felt he couldn’t keep her a hundred percent safe, or if he felt her unable to deal with the reality of the situation.

He stepped out of the helicopter. He had some aides he had to blast for not waking him up as soon as they’d arrived with the crisis in progress and for letting her out of the helicopter.

Then the first thing his eyes fell on a hundred feet away was her lithe figure glowing in his helicopter’s lights, her hair blowing around her and everything drained out of him but the need to be by her side.

He exhaled remnants of anxiety, inhaled steadiness for the coming ordeals then bounded across the distance separating them.

Jay stood staring at the squadron of helicopters that was landing around theirs and wondered if she could stop being stunned at the extent of resources Malek commanded.