The sheikh's chosen wife(36)

She pretended not to hear, smiled her bright smile and just kept on  talking. But the damage was done. The evening was ruined for her. For it  had not once occurred to her that her father and Ethan were here for  any other purpose than because Hassan wanted to please her.

Evie appeared at her side to save her life. 'Show me where I can freshen up,' she requested.

As Leona excused herself from those she was standing with, a hand  suddenly gripped her sleeve. 'You heard: I saw your face. But you must  not listen,' Medina advised earnestly. 'For he has the bad mouth and his  wife is in purdah after Sheikh Hassan's visit yesterday.'

Sheikh Hassan's visit? Curiouser and curiouser, Leona thought grimly as  she took a moment to reassure Medina before moving away with Evie  Al-Kadah.

'What was that all about?' Evie quizzed.

'Nothing.' Leona dismissed the little incident.

But from across the room Hassan saw the green glint hit her eyes and  wondered what had caused it. Had Evie let the proverbial cat out of the  bag, or was it the timid Medina who had dared to stick in the knife?

He supposed he would soon find out, he mused heavily, and redirected his  attention to whoever it was speaking to him, hoping he had not missed  anything important.

The evening moved on; the old sheikh grew tired. His two sons appeared  by the side of his divan. He did not demur when Hassan gently suggested  he bid goodnight to everyone. Once again Rafiq lifted him into his  wheelchair with the same gentleness that would be offered a fragile  child. His departure was achieved quietly through a side door, as the  old Sheikh himself had arranged.

Leona was standing with her father and Ethan as this quiet departure took place. 'How long?' Victor asked her gravely.                       
       
           



       

'Not very long,' she answered, then eluded herself because Sheikh  Khalifa wished his thirtieth celebration to be an occasion remembered  for its hospitality, not as his obituary.

It was very late by the time people began leaving. Even later before  Leona felt she could dare to allow herself a sigh of relief at how  relatively pain-free the whole evening had turned out to be.

Which suddenly reminded her of something she still had to do that might  not be as pain free. Her heart began thudding as Hassan came to take her  hand and walk her towards the stairs. She could feel his tension, knew  that his mind had switched onto the same wavelength as her own. Hand in  hand they trod the wide staircase to the floor above. The door to the  private apartments closed behind them.

'Did Evie bring-'

'Yes,' she interrupted, and moved right away from him. Now the moment of  truth had arrived Leona found she was absolutely terrified. 'I don't  want to know,' she admitted.

'Then leave it for now,' Hassan answered simply.

She turned to look anxiously at him. 'But that's just being silly.'

'Yes,' he agreed. 'But tomorrow the answer will still be the same, and the next day and the next.'

Maybe it was a good thing that the telephone began to ring. Hassan moved  away from her to go and answer it. Thirty seconds later he was sending  her a rueful smile. 'My father is restless,' he explained. 'Over-excited  and in need of talk. Will you mind if I go to him, or shall I get Rafiq

'No,' she said quickly. 'You go.' She really was a pathetic coward.

'You won't...do anything without me with you?' he murmured huskily.

She shook her head. 'Tomorrow,' she promised. 'W-when I am feeling less  tired and able to cope with...' The wrong answer, were the words she  couldn't say.

Coming back to her, Hassan gave her a kiss of understanding. 'Go to  bed,' he advised, 'Try to sleep. I will come back just as soon as I  can.'

He was striding towards the door when she remembered. 'Hassan... My  father and Ethan were invited here for a specific purpose, weren't  they?'

He paused at the door, sighed and turned to look at her. 'Damage  limitation,' he confirmed. 'We may not like it. We may object to finding  such a demeaning act necessary. But the problem was there, and had to  be addressed. Inshallah.'

He shrugged, turned and left.



CHAPTER TWELVE

Inshallah-as Allah wills. It was, she thought, the perfect throwaway  answer to an uncomfortable subject. On a dissatisfied sigh she moved  across the room to begin to prepare for bed.

Already tucked out of sight in the drawer of her bedside cabinet lay the  offerings Evie had brought with her from Behran. Just glancing at the  drawer was enough to make her shudder a little, because the pregnancy  testing kit had too much power for her comfort. So she turned away to  pull on her pyjamas, slid into bed and switched off the light without  glancing at the cabinet again. Sleep came surprisingly quickly, but then  it had been a long day.

When she woke up, perhaps an hour later, she thought for a few moments  that Hassan must have come back and disturbed her when he'd got into the  bed. But there was no warm body lying beside her. No sign of life in  evidence through the half-open bathroom door.

Then she knew. She didn't know how she knew, but suddenly she was up and  pulling on a robe, frantically trying the belt as she hurried for the  door. It was as if every light in the palace was burning. Her heart  dropped to her stomach as she began racing down the stairs.

It was the sheikh. Instinct, premonition, call it what you wanted; she just knew there was something badly wrong.

On bare feet she ran down the corridor and arrived at his door to find  it open. She stepped inside, saw nothing untoward except that neither  the sheikh nor Hassan was there. Then she heard a noise coming from the  room beyond, and with a sickening thud her heart hit her stomach as she  made her way across the room to that other door.

On the other side was a fully equipped hospital room that had been  constructed for use in the event of emergencies like the one Leona found  herself faced with now.

She could not see the old sheikh because the doctors and nurses were  gathered around him. But she could see Hassan and Rafiq standing like  two statues at the end of the bed. They were gripping the rail in front  of them with a power to crush metal, and their faces were as white as  the gutrahs that still covered their heads.

Anguish lurked in every corner, the wretched sound of the heart monitor  pulsing out its frighteningly erratic story like a cold, ruthless taunt.  It was dreadful, like viewing a scene from a horror movie. Someone held  up a hypodermic needle, clear liquid sprayed into the air. The lights  were bright and the room bare of everything but clinical-white  efficiency.

No, she thought, no, they cannot do this to him. He needs his room, with  his books and his divan and his favourite pile of cushions. He needed  to be surrounded by love, his sons, gentle music, not that terrible beep  that felt to her as if it was draining the very life out of him.                       
       
           



       

'Switch it off,' she said thickly, walking forward on legs that did not  seem to belong to her. 'Switch if off!' she repeated. 'He doesn't want  to hear that.'

'Leona...' Hassan spoke her name in a hoarse whisper.

She looked at him. He looked at her. Agony screamed in the space between  them. 'Tell them to switch it off,' she pleaded with him.

His face caved in on a moment's loss of composure. Rafiq didn't even  seem to know that she was there. 'Don't...' he said huskily.

He wanted her to accept it. Her throat became a ball of tears as she  took those final few steps then looked, really looked down at the  ghost-like figure lying so still in the bed.

No, she thought again, no, they can't do this to him. Not here, not now.  Her hand reached out to catch hold of one of his, almost knocking the  nurse who was trying to treat him.

He felt so cold he might have been dead already. The tears moved to her  mouth and spilled over her trembling lips. 'Sheikh,' she sobbed out,  'you just can't do this!'

'Leona...'

The thin, frail fingers she held in her hand tried to move. Oh, dear  God, she thought painfully. He knows what is happening to him! 'Switch  that noise off-switch it off!'

The fingers tried their very best to move yet again. Panic erupted. Fear  took charge of her mind. 'Don't you dare bail on us now, old man!' she  told him forcefully.

'Leona!' Hassan warning voice came stronger this time. He was shocked. They were all shocked. She didn't care.

'Listen to me,' she urged, lifting that frighteningly cold hand up to  her cheek. The fingers moved again. He was listening. He could hear her.  She moved closer, pushing her way past the doctor-a nurse-someone. She  leaned over the bed, taking that precious hand with her. Her hair  streamed over the white piDows as she came as close to him as she could.  'Listen,' she repeated, 'I am going to have a baby, Sheikh. Your very  first grandchild. Tell me that you understand!'

The fingers moved. She laughed, then sobbed and kissed those fingers.  Hassan came to grasp her shoulder. 'What do you think you are doing?' he  rasped.