The Nanny and The Sheikh

“I want to go swimming,” Hamid said, splashing his sisters.

“Whoa, not so much water. Another day we’ll ask about swimming. How about we race along the water’s edge? Who can run the fastest?” Melissa said, looking to channel some of their energy. They probably got into trouble in the house from sheer curiosity and exuberance. She’d make sure they got enough exercise to sleep soundly tonight.

“Me,” little Nadia said.

“I can,” Hamid said.

They were off, running at the edge of the water, splashing and laughing. Alaya took off after them, with Melissa following.

When they tired of that, Melissa suggested they build a sandcastle.

Alaya looked sad. “Mummy and Daddy built a fabulous one the last holiday we had. We went to Cornwall.”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you are building a new sandcastle on this beach. It’s a long way from Cornwall, but sand is sand. Won’t you join us?” Melissa wasn’t exactly sure what to say to grieving children, but she knew it was good for the children to talk about their parents.

“You can tell us how to make one like your mummy and daddy built. Did you help them?” she asked.

Alaya nodded. “I miss them.” She started to cry. The other two ran to her, upset by their older sister’s tears.

Melissa reached out to draw her into her arms, hugging her warmly. “I know you do. You will miss them all your life. My daddy died when I was five and I still miss him. But the aching, crushing hurt will diminish, I promise. One day you’ll look back at all your memories so grateful to have them. They’ll bring smiles to your face and a lift of love to your heart.” Melissa wished she had more memories of her father. Alaya was older than she’d been. She would remember. But the others would not. It was so sad.

“I miss Mummy, too,” Hamid said.

Melissa sat on the sand, pulling Alaya down with her, and keeping one arm around her shoulder. She patted her lap and Nadia climbed on, while Hamid crowded from the other side. She wished she could hold each one until the hurt eased.

“Of course you miss them. They were your parents and loved you very much. You know they didn’t want to die.”

“It was a truck, crashing into them,” Alaya said. “The brakes failed, that’s what the policeman said. Why did it have to happen?”

“No one knows things like that, sweetheart,” Melissa murmured. “But you will be cared for here.”

“Nobody here knew our parents or talks about them. It’s as if they were never alive,” Alaya said.

“Your uncle knew your mother. Get him to talk about her and your father. I bet he has wonderful stories about when they were young,” Melissa suggested.

“He’s our cousin,” Alaya said, bitterness tingeing her voice. “He doesn’t want us. Mummy asked him long ago to be our guardian if something happened to them and he said yes. But he doesn’t want us.”

“He’s your family,” Melissa said, hoping it wasn’t a total lie. “He’s just not used to children. We need to find a way to have him feel more comfortable around you.”

“He’s getting married,” Hamid said, looking up at her. “Will she be our new mummy?”

“No, we are not getting another mother,” Alaya said firmly.

Nadia slipped her thumb into her mouth, watching with large eyes.

“Because of the age difference, I’m sure the sheikh wouldn’t mind if you called him Uncle Surim. His new wife will be your new aunt. Have you met her yet?”

“He’s looking,” Alaya said.

“Looking?”

“He needs to get married to have sons to carry on when he dies,” Alaya said.

“But he’s not going to die soon,” Hamid said, looking at his sister. “Is he?”

“No, he has to get married first,” Alaya said.

“How do you know this?” Melissa asked, curious.

Alaya and Hamid looked away.

“Sometimes we spy on him,” she said in a low voice.

“We sneak down the stairs and listen at the door, then run like the wind when someone leaves the office room,” Hamid said.

Melissa was torn between laughter at the picture, and telling them that spying wasn’t really a good thing.

“So he wants babies. They’ll be new cousins for you to play with,” she said, wondering why he was planning to send these adorable children away if he wanted children of his own. She hoped he found his wife soon, and she’d insist on keeping the children.

Paul’s scathing denouncement echoed in her mind. He hadn’t wanted children at all. He considered her involvement with them immature and beneath a woman he’d want to marry. For a moment she was back in the small restaurant hearing his voice, feeling each word as a dart piercing her heart. She’d thought they had so much going for them, until she’d voiced that thought and been soundly corrected. How had she misjudged him so much?

Shaking off the melancholy, she smiled.

“Let’s get going on those sandcastles. Dinner will be soon and we’ll have to return to the house.”

The children scrambled up and ran to the water’s edge again. Soon they were all mounding wet sand, trying to sculpt it with fingers. Melissa made a mental note to see if there were sand toys in the children’s nursery for future visits to the seashore.

Surim walked down the path to the beach alone. Annis had come to tell him the children had not returned in time for their supper. She was worried she’d done the wrong thing by allowing them to go off with his guest. Sometimes it was almost more than he could do to control his frustration. His aunt had insisted Annis be hired to watch her grandchildren. But however qualified Annis appeared on paper, her skill with the children lacked a great deal in his opinion.

As he approached the beach he heard laughter and happy chatter. Pausing by the last of the green grass, he observed four people caught up in building a sandcastle. Little Nadia for once didn’t have her thumb in her mouth. Hamid was laughing so hard he fell over and rolled on the sand. Alaya stood, running to the water to scoop some in her hands and carry it, dripping all the way, back to the ditch they’d built around the castle.

But the person he had the most difficulty recognizing was Melissa Fox. She looked like one of the children. Gone was her suit and her business attitude. Her hair was flying in the breeze, and her trousers were damp and sandy. He could see the joy in her expression. He was struck by how beautiful she was. Suddenly he was gripped with an urge to see her dressed in a designer gown, with pearls from Qu’ Arim at her throat.

Every one of them was having so much fun a pang of envy struck. Surim couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that. Or spent a carefree afternoon doing nothing more important than building a sandcastle.

Hamid rolled to his knees and caught sight of Surim. The merriment dropped instantly from his face. He said something and the others looked his way. Alaya stopped smiling and stepped closer to Melissa. Nadia popped her thumb back into her mouth and regarded him warily.

Was he frightening to these children? He remembered his cousin Mara fondly. They’d played together when he was younger—not any older than Hamid. He’d seen her often when home from school, before his father had died and his life had changed so drastically. He’d never expected her to die young, or for himself to wind up responsible for her children.

Melissa rose, dusting some of the sand from her clothes.

“Are we late?” she called. She spoke to the children and as one they turned to walk to the water and swish their hands clean. Picking up their shoes, they moved to stand just behind her. In a moment, the little line headed his way, almost like a mother duck with her ducklings following in a row.

Surim watched, fascinated at the change in his guest and the laughter he’d seen from the children. He had only seen them sad or scared or defiant. Melissa still looked carefree and happy, but the children had become solemn.

“Annis was worried when they didn’t return for dinner,” he said when Melissa drew close.

“Sorry about that. I forgot my watch. Guess my estimating the time from the sun isn’t very accurate.” She laughed. “But we were having such fun time seemed to fly.”

He looked at the pile of sand, then at the children. “A very fine castle,” he said awkwardly.

“I bet you and their mother made sandcastles when you were young,” Melissa said.

He was startled. He hadn’t said anything about Mara or her husband, fearing to upset the children.

“Did you?” Alaya asked hesitantly.

Surim regarded the little girl and nodded. “We did. And when we grew older, we had swimming races, and went waterskiing together. She and I were great friends during the summers when I was home,” he said, remembering back before the world had changed and his childhood had ended abruptly.

“Where were you in not summer?” Hamid asked.

“I went to school in England. Where you used to live.”

“I miss home,” Hamid said forlornly.

“This will feel like home in no time,” Melissa said bracingly. “Right?” She smiled brightly at Surim.

He raised an eyebrow at her comment.

She smelled like sunshine and salt air. He noticed the deep green of her eyes, the glossy shine to her hair. There was a faint hint of pink on her cheeks—from the sun? She was shorter than most of the woman he dated, and much too young. But for a moment awareness flared.

Intellect didn’t rule the body all the time. He remembered how soft her skin had felt when he’d kissed her hand at the airport, a gesture foreign to him. Had he been making a show for Max’s friend?

Instinctively it had seemed right.

The children marched quietly into the house, all evidence of the joy he’d seen subdued by his presence. Surim wished he could change that.

“I’ll run up with the children and give Annis a hand getting them cleaned up,” Melissa said when they reached the stairs.

“Our own dinner will be in thirty minutes.”

“Then I’ll have to hurry.” She herded the children up the stairs without another glance in his direction.

For an instant, Surim wished she’d been as eager for his company as she was for the children’s. He had no trouble in the romance department. Though none of the women he knew held the same appeal that Melissa held.

He was being pressured by several factions to take a wife, and have children to insure the dynasty. These days he seemed to be looking at every woman with the same question—could he live with her for the next fifty or so years? So far he hadn’t found anyone.

Melissa slipped into the dining-room chair just as Surim and Max came in from the study. Once they were seated, a servant entered from the kitchen with a platter of meat. Melissa had rushed through her ablutions; her hair was still damp. But she had not kept the sheikh waiting for his meal.

She listened as Surim and Max discussed business, wondering what other activities the sheikh participated in. He had to take women out if he was looking for a wife. Did he discuss business with them? Or was it all romance?

She wondered what a date with him would be like, what they would talk about. Did he discuss the orphan children in his care with them? Or maybe he concentrated on wooing the woman, delaying any talk of family until he decided she was the one.

In the meantime, perhaps she should offer some suggestions to getting to know the children? She shook her head, hiding a wry smile. As if he’d listen to her. Who was she to advise the ruler of Qu’ Arim? He had advisors galore. And a perfectly qualified nurse in residence. Though what the children needed was love and devotion and fun. And a chance to get to know Surim and establish new family routines and traditions.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Surim said, addressing her. “Too much activity today?”

Melissa looked up. “Oh, no. I enjoyed seeing the actual site of the new restaurant, and the plans you have for the resort. I’m sure it will be spectacular.”

“Of course it will,” Max said. “Surim doesn’t do things by half measures.”

“I thought to have a small gathering of friends and advisors before you leave. Most of them speak English, the ones who don’t speak French,” Surim said.

“I would like the opportunity to meet your friends here,” Max said. “I already know most of your friends in England.”

“And you, Melissa, would that please you?” Surim asked.

“I should be delighted to attend.” She wondered if he would bring one of his potential wives with him, and she was disturbed to realize how much the thought bothered her.

When dinner finished, they moved to the drawing room. As they walked Surim and Max continued their discussion of the possibility of expanding Bella Lucia beyond this one overseas restaurant.

Passing through the wide entry hall, Melissa heard a noise. Neither of the men seemed to notice. Glancing up, she spotted Hamid peering between the railings of the balustrade. She looked at Surim and Max. They were too engrossed in their conversation to hear such a slight noise.

When they reached the living room, Melissa paused at the doorway.

“If you two will excuse me, I think I’ll go on up.”

Surim looked at her, frowning. “I apologize that our conversation centered on business. You must be tired of it after the long day we put in. We will change the topic.”

“No, you two talk all you want. Max won’t be here that long and I know you’re friends from way back. I’ll see you in the morning.”

His dark eyes seemed to hold her gaze as he weighed her words. “Very well.” With a slight inclination of his head, he turned back to Max.

Hurrying up the stairs, Melissa caught Hamid and Alaya as they tried to run down the hall.

“Hey, you two, stop right there.” She kept her voice low, but knew the children heard her.

They stopped and looked back, nervously waiting as Melissa went to them.

“I thought we talked earlier about not spying,” Melissa said in her sternest voice.

“We wanted to see you tonight,” Alaya said.

“Do you know where my room is?”

Alaya nodded.

“In the future, wait there if you need to see me. Or leave me a note. But no more spying; it’s wrong.”

Alaya nodded. Hamid looked at his sister, then nodded solemnly as well.

“Now, what’s up?” Melissa asked, smiling at the children.

“We wanted to see if you would read us a story,” Hamid said. “Annis only reads in French and we don’t understand.”

“Or she speaks Arabic and we only know a few words that Mummy and Daddy taught us,” Alaya said.

“You will feed to learn the language if you’re staying here,”

Melissa said. She started walking to the stairs leading to the third floor. “Maybe we’ll ask Annis to start Arabic lessons in the morning. Tonight, I’m happy to read you a story. Is Nadia already in bed?”

“Yes. She was sleeping when we came down,” Alaya said. “I wish we didn’t have to stay here. Everything’s so different from home.”

“You’ll get used to things in time, then it will be like having two homes. The one you had in England, and your new one here. Do you have friends back at home?” Melissa asked.

Alaya nodded.

“Have you written to them about your new place?”

The little girl shook her head.

“That would be fun for them to receive a letter from you telling them all about this house, your uncle and Annis. I bet none of them have ever been to Qu’ Arim. Maybe you could get some photos to include in the letter.” Melissa smiled as the enthusiasm started to show on Alaya’s face. “This house is fantastic. Just a photo of the front would look like a museum or something.”

“I’d like to write to Sally and Marta. You think they’d write back to me?” she asked wistfully.

“I’m sure of it. First thing tomorrow, I’ll have Annis make sure you have paper and pencil. You write as much as you wish and then we’ll get your uncle to post it,” Melissa said.

“I should be delighted,” Surim said behind them.

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