Date with a Surgeon Prince(49)

The little aircraft touched down as lightly as a butterfly and when the engine was turned off and the rotors started spinning more slowly a door opened and not Nimr but Ghazi dropped onto the sand, followed by a woman with a large black bag and, finally, from the other side, Nimr.

‘I’ll kill you two,’ Nimr roared, then proceeded to yell at them in their own language.

‘Where’s Tasnim?’ Ghazi growled, anger in every line in his body, rage radiating from his pores.

Marni pointed towards the hut where a still sleepy Tasnim had appeared in the doorway.

Ghazi—although clad in jeans and a polo shirt there was no doubt from the way he held himself that he was Ghazi—led the nurse in that direction,

So that’s what he thinks of me, Marni decided sadly.


Ghazi thought he’d held himself together quite well through the ordeal of not knowing where Marni was, or even if she was alive. But when he jumped out of the helicopter and saw her sitting on the sand, chatting happily to her kidnappers the tension that he’d held in check erupted into searing, white-hot anger.

Not wanting to let fly at her in front of so many people, he held it in check and sought out his sister instead, taking her in his arms and holding her close while she sobbed onto his shoulder. Her cries of relief were rising towards hysteria, her babbled words barely understandable. He soothed and comforted her, taking his time to calm her down before peeling her off his body so the nurse could check her.

By that time Nimr had joined the little group sitting on the sand, and they had obviously calmed him down because both his brothers were not only still alive but didn’t seem to have been harmed in any way.

Ghazi walked towards the group and now, finally, the woman whose disappearance had nearly ripped his heart out looked up and nodded acknowledgement of his presence. She was pale, her hair coming loose from a plait and sticking out in all directions, but her face betrayed no hint of relief that they’d been rescued, or delight at seeing him.

‘Nimr tells me the helicopter only carries four, Ghazi, so I think you should go with Tasnim back to the hospital,’ Marni said, so calmly he wanted to throttle her. ‘I know you brought a nurse, but Tasnim’s been really strong up until this morning when she came out in a rash across her belly. I vaguely remember something called PEP, poly-something eruption of pregnancy that can happen in the later months. I think that’s all it is but she’s getting very anxious and upset about it and is desperately worried that it could affect the baby. If you’re with her, you’ll be able to keep her calm until she gets back home and her own obstetrician sees her.’

Ghazi stared at the woman he’d come to rescue.

Was that all she had to say?

Apparently not, because she was speaking again.

‘That way, I can get a ride back to town with Hari and Fawzi, or Nimr’s said he’d be happy to fly back out to pick me up once he’s dropped Tasnim off.’

She had it all organised, this pale, dishevelled devil he’d fallen in love with.

And not a hello Ghazi, nice to see you, sorry if you’ve been worried to be heard!

She was unbelievable and, heaven forbid, unbelievably beautiful to his eyes—even in an old kandora she must have found in the hut and smudges of exhaustion under her eyes.

Had he hurt her so much that she was treating him this way?

Like a passing stranger?

Or a pretend fiancé?

The pain in his gut suggested this might be so, but how could he say anything in front of Nimr and his brothers?

‘Are you in agreement with this plan?’ he asked Nimr.

His cousin nodded.

‘I think Tasnim will need you as well as the nurse,’ he said.

Knowing Nimr was probably right, Ghazi turned to the young men.

‘As for you two,’ Ghazi he said, ‘can you be trusted to stay here with Marni until we return or will you get some other wild idea and take off again?’

‘We’ll be here,’ Hari said, so promptly Ghazi had to wonder what threats Nimr had already made to his brothers.

‘I think we should go right now,’ the nurse called from the doorway of the hut, and Ghazi, after one last, despairing look at the woman he loved, turned back to help his near-hysterical sister into the helicopter.

‘Well, that went well,’ Nimr said to him when they were airborne once again. ‘Some little glitch along the road to matrimony?’

‘Just keep flying,’ Ghazi growled. ‘And don’t think for a minute you’ll be flying back there, unless you want to ride home with your brothers—which might not be a bad idea. With you there, I’ll be less likely to murder them.’

Nimr flew.





CHAPTER ELEVEN