Date with a Surgeon Prince(14)

Marni held up her hand and shook her head.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand your language.’

The older boy came closer, looking her up and down, waving his hands towards her clothing as if to ask why she was dressed like she was.

She lifted up the black abaya to show her jeans and the boys laughed, the tall one inviting her to join the game.

‘That’s if you can run in a skirt?’ His easy command of English made her wonder if he went to school overseas, or perhaps to an English language school here.

‘I’m sure I can,’ she assured him, and joined the boys, kicking the ball from one end of the grassed area to the other. She’d just sent it flying over the top of the topiary goal posts when a tall figure appeared, not in scrubs, or in the intimidating white gown, but in jeans as faded as hers, and a dark blue polo shirt that had also seen better days.

‘Ghazi!’ the boys chorused in delight. ‘Come and play. This is Marni, she’s nearly as good as you.’

Although he’d been looking for her, he’d hardly expected to find her playing soccer with his young nephews. The hood of her cloak had slipped off her head and her headscarf was dangling down the back of her neck, hiding the thick plait of fair hair. Her face was flushed, but whether from exertion or embarrassment he had no idea, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Best not to get further entangled, his common sense warned, for all the betrothal idea was so appealing. But against all common sense he joined the game for a few minutes then told the boys he had to take their playmate away.

He was pleased to see they all went up to her and held out their hands to say goodbye, only Karim, the eldest, bold enough to invite her to play with them again.

How old was Karim? Surely not yet a teenager, although these days who knew when hormonal changes would rear their heads.

Marni had fixed her scarf and pulled the hood back over her head as she approached him.

‘I do hope I wasn’t doing the wrong thing,’ she said, the flush still visible in her cheeks. ‘The ball came towards me, I kicked it, and next thing I knew I was part of the game. They’re good, the boys. I played for years myself, never good enough to make a rep team but enough to know skill when I see it.’

‘They’re soccer mad, just as their father is. His dream is to get Ablezia into the World Cup. For a country that doesn’t yet have its own international team, it’s a huge task. I’m pretty sure that’s why I landed this job.’

‘This job?’

The pale grey-blue eyes looked into his, the question mirrored in them.

‘Ruler—supreme commander—there are about a dozen titles that my major-domo reads out on formal occasions. My uncle succeeded my father, who was an old man when I was born—the first son after seven daughters. Here, our successors are chosen from within the family but not necessarily in any particular order, but I had assumed Nimr, my cousin, would succeed his father and I could continue my surgical work, but Nimr the Tiger didn’t want the job—his focus is on sport—and so here I am.’

Had he sounded gloomy that he felt soft fingers touch his arm?

‘Is it such a trial?’ the abaya-clad blonde asked.

‘Right at this very moment?’ he asked, covering her hand with his. ‘Not really!’

The boys started whistling as boys anywhere in the world would do at the tiniest hint of romance, and he stepped back, gave them what he hoped was a very princely glare and put his hand on Marni’s back to guide her away from them.

He’d have liked to tell them to keep quiet about her, but that would only pique their curiosity further, and he knew that before they’d even eaten lunch the boys would have relayed the story of the soccer-playing visitor to Alima, his eldest sister, wife of Nimr and mother of the precious boys they’d waited so long for.

‘And the prime mover in the “find a wife” campaign,’ he added, the words spoken aloud before he realised it.

‘Who’s the prime mover?’ Marni asked, stopping by a pomegranate tree and fiddling with her scarf.

Gaz explained the relationship.

‘Is that why they live so close? Not in the main building but within the walls?’

He looked at her, wondering if the question was nothing more than idle curiosity, although he was coming to believe that was unlikely. He was coming to see her as a woman who was interested in the world around her, eager to learn about it and discover new things.

Could this crazy idea work beyond a pretend betrothal?

‘My uncle was living in the palace when they married, so naturally he built them the house nearby. This palace is new, or newish. My father built it when he tired of travelling from our home in the old city to here. Ablezia came late into the modern world, and we are a people who are slow to change. Obviously when the world changed so dramatically in these parts, we had to change—to learn new ways, to understand the intricacies of new business structures and international relations. My father was the right man for the job, because he understood it had to happen.’