Date with a Surgeon Prince(24)

Gaz caught her arm as she was about to follow Jawa out of Theatre. He’d pulled his mask down so it hung loosely below his chin, and the fine line of beard was a little ragged. His eyes, however, still held her gaze, drawing her into the darkness…

‘You are exhausted,’ he said gently. ‘I would suggest you go back to your flat here at the hospital but Fayyad tells me all your things are in the car. Let me drive you to Tasnim’s. She is expecting you and will have waited up for you.’

Marni dragged her attention back from his eyes and nodded, too tired to argue, and anyway he was right, all her belongings were in the car. She slipped into the changing room, and again saw the questions in Jawa’s eyes.

‘Tomorrow,’ she said to her friend. ‘I’ll return your abaya and explain tomorrow. I’ll meet you at the canteen at ten.’

But could she explain?

Explain it all?

And how would a local woman feel about her ruler’s betrothal to a foreigner?

Not to mention if she said it was a pretence.

So many questions to which she had no answers…

The ruler in question was waiting for her in the corridor.

‘Is it going to cause you problems with your people, this betrothal?’ she asked as soon as she was close to him. ‘I know it seemed like a good idea at the time to get your sisters off your back, but what about the local population? Might they not be offended in some way? Feel I’ve cheated you, or you them?’

Gaz—he was definitely Gaz at the hospital—stared at her for a moment then shook his head.

‘Do you worry over everybody?’ he asked, the smile in his eyes, and somehow in his voice as well, making her stomach curl.

‘Of course not, but Jawa must be wondering what’s going on and I wouldn’t like—well, she’s been so kind to me, I really have to try to explain to her before you do this breaking me to the public gradually business, and then I thought—’

He brushed his knuckles across her cheek and her mind went blank.

‘That I might be lynched, or deposed, for getting betrothed to a foreigner?’

Marni managed to nod, but with Gaz so close and the sensation of that touch lingering on her cheek, she found it impossible to speak.

Or think.

And only just possible to breathe.

‘Stop fretting,’ he told her, ‘and that’s an order!’

He then put his hand gently on the small of her back—again—and propelled her down the corridor, into the car and out again only minutes later, in front of the low open patio of a house the size of a hotel.


Tasnim was a short, glowing, heavily pregnant woman wearing designer jeans—who knew designers made pregnancy jeans?—and a tight purple top stretched across her swollen abdomen.

She greeted Marni with a warm hug and made no secret of her delight.

‘This will be such fun!’ she said. ‘I was bored out of my brain. I did keep working but got so fat I couldn’t sit behind the desk any more and Yusef—Ghazi’s told you he’s my husband, hasn’t he?—said to stop, then the wretched man took off to Europe for some round of international monetary fund talks and just left me stranded here.’

Marni could only stare at the beautiful, bubbly, excited woman.

‘She can talk,’ Gaz said, giving his sister a kiss on the cheek and asking where Fayyad should put Marni’s luggage.

‘Oh, Ahmed will take it.’

Tasnim waved her hand towards a white-clad figure and the luggage disappeared.

‘But are you sure this is okay?’ Marni finally managed to ask. ‘Me being here, I mean?’

‘Of course,’ Tasnim told her, giving her another awkward hug. ‘Not only will I have the fun of getting clothes for you—and spending lots and lots of Ghazi’s money—but every one of my sisters will be green with jealousy that you’re here and not with them.’

She clapped her hands.

‘Oh, it will be delicious!’

‘But I wouldn’t want your sisters—’ Marni began.

‘Don’t worry,’ Gaz told her, resting his hand on her shoulder. ‘They play these games of one-upmanship all the time, my sisters, but they still all love each other. Just wait, they’ll be vying with each other to give you the best gifts, take you to the best silk shops, the best seamstresses.’

Marni closed her eyes as she realised this whole betrothal thing had spun right out of control and taken on a life of its own. She turned to Gaz so his hand fell off her shoulder, which did make it slightly easier to think.

‘I can’t take gifts,’ she said, which was as close as she could get to protesting in front of Tasnim. ‘It wouldn’t be right!’