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“Do I have a choice in this?” Amanda asked. Being a private duty nurse to a guy like that could be a problem. A different kind of problem than the one she left behind, but still…
“Of course,” Rosie assured her. “You could go right into Intensive Care at the hospital. They’re always shorthanded and I’m sure they’d love to have you.”
“And the sheik?”
“I told him I’d do what I could. If I can’t find anybody, and it can’t be just anybody, he’ll have to stay in the hospital.”
Amanda nodded.
“Why don’t you go by the hospital,” Rosie suggested. “You’ll want to see it anyway. It’s nothing compared to St. Vincent’s in Chicago, but we’re proud of it. A few years ago we had to take the long drive to the hospital at the South Shore just to have a baby or an X ray. The whole town got together to raise the money to build the hospital. Pop in and take a look at our boy the sheik and see what you think. And don’t forget dinner tonight at our house.”
Amanda stood and put her jacket on. “I can’t keep imposing on you, Rosie,” she said. “You’ve already done so much.”
Rosie came around her desk and hugged her friend. “You are not imposing. I’m just so glad to have you here. Of all my friends…well, let’s just say I don’t have that many anymore what with my life these days. You’re the best. You always were. I’ve never known anybody I could talk to like you. We shared so much. I’ve missed that. You knew all my secrets and you kept them. I didn’t know how rare that was, now I do.” Rosie stepped back and wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve made me get all emotional.”
“Me, too,” Amanda confessed. Her lower lip quivered. A friend as good as Rosie was hard to find. Maybe that was why she’d never found another one. Maybe that was why she was here, because everyone was only allowed one best friend. If so, was it right to keep a secret from your best friend, even now, after being apart for so long? If it was the biggest secret of your life and the most shameful, it was. It had to be.
“Six o’clock,” Rosie said firmly. “My au pair is making fondue. And don’t worry. If the sheik is obnoxious, the hell with him.”
With those words ringing in her ears, Amanda drove slowly down the main street toward the hospital, passing restaurants and motels that catered to the ski crowd, including the one where she was staying. Rosie had invited her to stay with her, but Amanda wanted her own space. Even if it was only a room. It would do until she found an apartment.
The hospital was located one mile outside of town. It was small, smaller than she’d imagined. But then she was used to the big-city atmosphere of St. Vincent’s Hospital on Chicago’s north side with its adjoining medical school. Just its parking garage was ten times the size of this whole hospital. Amanda reminded herself that the town had built the hospital because they’d wanted it so badly. She also reminded herself she was looking for a change. It looked as if she was going to get it. Had she let Rosie’s natural enthusiasm delude her into thinking she could really be happy in a small mountain town full of rabid outdoor types?
Happy? What was that? All she asked was that she not be depressed. That she stop thinking about the past. That she not cry herself to sleep at night and dream about the one person she wanted most of all to forget. If she could achieve that much then she’d be content. Contentment was her goal. Only that. She had a long way to go just to get there.
As she walked into the lobby she noted a few patients in wheelchairs who glanced at her with curiosity and a lady in a hospital gown demanding something from the receptionist. The familiar smell of disinfectant was in the air causing her to feel apprehensive. Amanda had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. While she had never considered escaping from caregiving, from doctors and nurses, or from the gossip and the back biting in a hospital, she had thought she could possibly escape from her own fears and her own mistakes. She’d needed a change, but maybe this was not the place for the change. She had to get away from Chicago, but maybe she’d come too far. Or not far enough. She tried to imagine working here, but she couldn’t.
Instead of joining the hospital staff, maybe this sheik business was the way to go. It was a short-term job, no breach of contract if this wasn’t the right place for her. No obligations. The more she thought of it, the better it sounded.
Amanda told the receptionist whose name tag said Carrie who she was.
“You’re the nurse from Chicago,” Carrie said with a friendly smile. “How do you like it here?”
“It’s…it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen the Sierras before.”
“People call it paradise,” she said modestly. “You gonna take the job with the sheik?”
“I don’t know.”
“He’s a handful. Cute, though. He doesn’t like being laid up, I can tell you. No patience. None whatsoever.” Carrie turned to the nurse’s aide who stopped to say hello and be introduced to the new nurse. “Am I right, Amy? The sheik in 34C. Isn’t he something else? Phone calls, visitors, flowers, people coming and going. But nothing seems to cheer him up. He’s got everything money can buy, but that’s not what he wants. He wants to walk out of here and he wants to leave today. Determined, wouldn’t you say, Amy?”
Amy agreed wholeheartedly. Amanda had had all kinds of patients, passive and easygoing, rich or indigent, willful, determined and obstinate. Some had visitors, some got flowers. Some were ignored. Those were the sad cases. It seemed to her the determined, stubborn types got well the fastest. It wasn’t based on anything scientific, it was just her observation. Someday she’d do a study on personality types and healing.
“You won’t believe this guy,” Carrie continued enthusiastically. “I don’t think I’ve seen him smile once. ’Course maybe I wouldn’t be smiling, either, with a tube between my ribs and a broken ankle. I felt so sorry for him I let him talk me into driving into town to get him the San Francisco newspaper and a pizza after I finished my shift. Says he can’t stand hospital food. I asked him, Well, who can? So he shrugs and says then buy enough for the whole floor. So I did after I checked with Dietary to see if it was okay. What could I say when he looked at me with those big brown eyes? Oh, he’s irresistible, if you like the long-suffering, rich, handsome type who use their charm to get their own way.” She giggled and waved her hand toward the hallway to her right. “Room 34C. Right down the hall.”
The more Amanda heard about the sheik the more she was sure he was just the type she’d have no trouble resisting at all. The type who used his money and influence to get more attention from an overworked staff. Not that Carrie seemed to mind, still…
Room 34C was almost dark. Only a small amount of late-afternoon sun filtered through the slanted blinds. A small table lamp glowed softly. Amanda didn’t expect anyone stuck in the hospital with multiple injuries to radiate happiness, but she didn’t expect such sadness. The somber expression on the face of the man in the bed and the sorrow in his deep dark eyes gave no hint of the man she’d heard about—the man possessed with only one thought, to get out of there or the extravagant rich guy who’d sent out for pizza for the whole floor.
She stood there in the doorway of his private room for a long moment studying him before he noticed her. He had a bandage around his forehead that contrasted with his dark hair. One large bandaged foot was propped up at the end of his bed. There were no visitors, no blaring TV as from the other rooms, no music, nothing. He was sitting up in bed staring straight ahead, lost in thought or perhaps semiconscious or in pain. Where were the visitors, the family, the friends?
At last he turned his head and saw her. He stared at her for at least as long as she’d stared at him. Steadily, unblinking. She wasn’t prepared for this. She was there to evaluate him, but she had the feeling he’d turned the tables on her. She balled her hands into fists. Her fingers were icy. What was he thinking? What was going on behind that bandaged forehead, what emotion lurked in the depths of those eyes?
She ought to say something. Introduce herself. Ask how he was. But she couldn’t speak. Her lips wouldn’t move, her throat was clogged. She told herself he was just a patient like every other patient she’d seen before. If she took him on he’d be just another patient to assess, evaluate, change bandages, check blood pressure, breathing, etc., etc. But standing there locked in this endless, wordless gaze with him, she knew deep down he was not like any other patient she’d ever had.
He was the one who finally broke the silence.
“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was deep and uneven. In the silence of the room it reverberated and struck a chord in her soul. His eyes narrowed. Before she could answer, he continued. “Don’t just stand there. Get in here. Open the blinds so I can see you.”
Like a mindless robot, she walked to the window and opened the blinds just slightly. He had the manner of one who gave orders and was used to having them obeyed. But she was not used to taking orders from patients and she wasn’t about to start now. She straightened her shoulders and found her voice. Not only her voice but her professional demeanor.
“I’m Amanda Reston. I’m a nurse.”
“Rahman Harun,” he said. “Forgive me for not getting up. May I say without insulting you or your profession that you don’t look like a nurse. Much too young. Much too beautiful.”
There it was. The so-called charm she’d expected. Next he’d tell her he was ready to go home and would she call a cab. If not, then he’d ask her to run into town for a six-pack and a hamburger. If he did, he’d soon find out she was not a messenger girl.
“I’m not on duty,” she said stiffly. If she was going to work for him, which was not at all certain at this point, she’d have to establish that she was in charge. That she could not be used or manipulated. That if he wanted to get well, he’d do what she said. She was a professional and she was accustomed to respect. At least from her patients.
“So what brings you by, Nurse Reston?” he said, his voice husky and breathless. “To see what a sheik looks like? To watch how the mighty have fallen?” He choked on a mirthless laugh and reached for a glass of water. She automatically handed it to him. He wrapped his blunt fingers around hers. Amanda felt a shock travel up her arm. Despite the need to remain professional, she almost dropped the glass. He was breathing hard. So was she.
“Are you okay?” she asked, setting the glass firmly in his hand. She should have asked herself the same question.
“I’m fine. Just great.” He gulped some water and pointed to the foot of his bed. “Read my chart there if you don’t believe me. Don’t be fooled by this bandage on my head, or the torn ligament in my ankle or that tube between my ribs. I’m really fine. So fine I’m going home as soon as I can get a…hey, that’s you, isn’t it? You’re the hotshot nurse who’s going to go home with me.
“I heard all about you. They thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t. Ten years in ICU as a trauma nurse. I thought you’d be about fifty pounds heavier, have gray hair and thick ankles.” He tilted his head to one side to get a better look at her. His gaze lingered on the contours of her lower body under her stretch pants. It was so intense Amanda felt her knees shake. She blushed and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, wishing she’d never come.
She didn’t want to take on a patient who affected her this way. She told herself he was just checking her out the way she was evaluating him. After all, he was the one who’d be hiring her. He had a right to pick someone older with more experience and thicker ankles if that’s what he wanted. Why she was reacting like a juvenile instead of a mature woman, she didn’t know.
“From what I can see, I’ve lucked out, for once. So let’s go, Amanda Reston.” He swung his good leg over the side of the bed and reached for the buzzer to summon the nurse.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Amanda said, lifting his leg back onto the bed. “You haven’t been discharged yet and I haven’t said I’d take the job. I’m new here in town. I just got here and I don’t know what my options are. And I’m not sure I’d be right for you.”
She was not going to let the sheik call the shots or make her feel like a sex object any more than she’d let an arrogant surgeon do those things. She had not jumped out of the frying pan in Chicago into the fire in this mountain paradise. If she took the job, it would be her decision. She wouldn’t be pressured or charmed. Sure, he was handsome and determined, but that wasn’t enough to sell her on the idea of taking him on. Just the reverse. She didn’t need to be around a man who affected her like this one did without even trying.
He glared at her. “Options. You’ve got options. Good for you. I had options a few days ago, but as of now, I’m fresh out What’s all this about being right for me? It’s just a job, Nurse Reston. I can’t afford to be choosy. If I don’t get a private-duty nurse, I have to stay here.” He gazed around at the walls as if the room were a prison. To him, it probably was.
Rather than debate the merits of hospital accommodations, she changed the subject. “How did it happen?” she asked.
“The accident? The usual. I was taking a last run and I lost control and rolled down the hill. Do you ski?”
Amanda shook her head.
“It’s a great sport. There’s nothing like it. The speed, the wind in your face, the mountains…” For a brief moment there was a half smile on his craggy face. She caught a glimpse of what he might have been before the accident, only a short time ago. She felt a pang of sympathy mingled with curiosity. This wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all. She had to keep her professional distance. But she couldn’t help wondering, what was he like before it happened? She’d never know.
“Until you fall and puncture your lung,” she concluded dryly.
“Do you believe in accidents?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t. I believe you get what you deserve. I was pushing the envelope. I was asking for it, just like…” He took a shallow breath, leaned forward and pinned her with his gaze. “It was my fault. Whatever happened was because of what I did. I was careless. So I’m paying the price for my so-called accident. That’s the way it should be. This accident did not happen by chance. It happened for a reason.” He put so much emphasis on every word of that last sentence, it seemed to exhaust him. He let his head fall back on the pillow and closed his eyes. His forehead was furrowed.
Concerned, Amanda sat on a stool by the bed and took his pulse. It was fast but strong. Before she could remove her hand, Rahman grabbed it with his other hand. For someone so badly injured, he had surprising strength.
“Cold hands,” he murmured, his eyes drifting open and then shut again. “We have a saying in Arabic, ‘Cold hands mean warm heart.”’ His voice faded to a whisper. “Is that true? Is your heart warm, Amanda?”
Had he really said that, or had she just imagined it? In any case, it was fortunate the question didn’t require an answer, because she couldn’t have articulated one. For the second time this afternoon she was speechless. Luckily no one was taking her pulse because she felt it speed up uncontrollably. What on earth was wrong with her? It must be the altitude. That was it. Some people got dizzy, others got breathless or had an increased heart rate. Although she’d been in the mountains for two days with no ill effects, she was suddenly in the throes of some kind of altitude sickness. Or…
In any case, whether she had a warm heart or not was none of the sheik’s business. Amanda knew she ought to leave. She’d seen enough and heard enough. More than enough. But though he appeared to have dropped off into semiconsciousness, he was still holding her hand so tightly that she couldn’t pull it away. Couldn’t or wouldn’t? She sat there for a long moment, mesmerized by the scent of spring flowers from the bouquets in vases, the pattern of sunlight on the bed, the warmth of his hand in hers. A current of energy seemed to flow from her to him and back again. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to leave. But of course she had to.
No. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be his nurse. Couldn’t take care of him twenty-four hours a day. Couldn’t live in his ski cabin. She’d come here for a break. She could not afford one bit of emotional involvement with anyone. Not with a doctor, not with a patient. All she wanted was to live quietly and simply. Alone. To leave her work at the end of the day and not take it home with her. Underneath the scent of freesias and hyacinths, she smelled danger in this room. A threat to her new life and the serenity she was looking for. Inside her chest she felt her heart bang against her ribs. It felt like fear. She’d tell Rosie tonight she couldn’t do it. Rosie would understand.
When Amanda finally pulled her hand loose from Rahman’s grasp, he gave a ragged sigh and mumbled something she couldn’t understand about being sorry. Glancing back toward him as she tiptoed to the door, she nearly ran into the tall figure standing in the doorway. She gasped in surprise. The man was the mirror image of the sheik in the bed. Or what Rahman would look like if he was healthy. Had she gone crazy? Was she seeing double?
“You must be the nurse,” he said. “I’m Rafik, Rahman’s brother. Can I have a word with you?”
“Of course,” she said softly and they walked down the hall to the lounge together while she practiced what she would say to him.
I’m not going to take the job. I can’t take care of your brother. It has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. I’m in recovery, too. Some things I can handle. Some things I can’t. A man like your brother falls into the latter category. I’m sorry, but I’m not the right person for the job.
Chapter Two
“Well, what did you think?” Rosie asked the minute Amanda walked into her friend’s kitchen where the fondue was bubbling on the stove and the air was filled with the rich aroma of cheese and kirsch.
“He’s in bad shape,” Amanda said, hanging her jacket on a hook near the door.
Rosie nodded and handed her friend a glass of white wine.
“More than you can manage? Worse than you thought?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” What could she say? How to explain that after all these years of professional nursing, a patient had touched her somewhere that was off limits. And that she was still reeling from the shock.
At that moment, Rosie’s husband Jake burst in the back door. “Welcome to California, Amanda. I hope you’re here to stay.” His face was ruddy, his voice was booming. Amanda had only met him once, at their wedding back in Chicago, Rosie’s hometown, but he greeted her with a welcoming hug as if he was as glad to see her as his wife was. Then he kissed Rosie as if he hadn’t seen her for weeks instead of hours and Amanda felt a pang of most unbecoming envy. Their affection for each other was out in the open for all to see. The way it should be. No sneaking around. Hiding from sight. Fearing being caught. It was clear they’d forged solid, unbreakable ties that nothing could separate.
Overriding the envy was happiness for her friend. When Rosie alluded to her secrets, Amanda knew they weren’t all happy ones. Rosie had put in her time, had had her share of heartbreak and disappointment. What was it Rahman had said he believed? “You get what you deserve.” Was that true? Did Amanda deserve what she’d gotten? To have her heart broken? She hoped not. If she had, she had turned over a new leaf in a new place. Never again would a man take advantage of her. Never again would she be fooled into trusting a man.
If Amanda was envious at meeting Rosie’s husband, she was more so when she saw the three-year-old twin girls, Sara and Nora. She got down on her knees and put an arm around each one of them. This was certainly her day for twins, she thought. Unlike Rahman and his brother Rafik, these two were identical in energy, charm and looks. Over their mother’s protests, the girls dragged Amanda to their room to show her their beds, their dolls, their toy house, their pet hamster and their books. They asked her a million questions.
They climbed into her lap, they combed her hair with their Barbie doll’s tiny comb and brush. Amanda felt a cold lump in her chest she didn’t know was there start to melt away. Felt the tension of the day fade as fast as the sun set behind the mountains. She could have gladly stayed there all evening, playing pretend games. Pretending that these were her children, this was her life. Pretending she didn’t have a tough job ahead of her.
Amanda didn’t know what had happened to her. She’d never longed for children the way Rosie had. But now that she’d seen these two, now that they were so close she could smell their baby shampoo, feel their soft skin and hear their little voices chatter away, she’d had a vision, an epiphany. This is what it could be like, should be like. Only it wasn’t.
She came back to earth with a thud. She was pretending just like the children. She’d had quite a day. First, she was still in shock, coming to a small mountain community from a big city only a few days ago. Second, she was in culture shock from meeting the twin sheiks. One intense, demanding, difficult, and maddeningly attractive despite everything. The other kind and persuasive. Just as good-looking, but there was no tension between them. No electric current flowed between them the way it had between Rahman and herself. Of course, if it wasn’t the altitude that caused her reaction to Rahman, it could be a reaction to what she’d left behind, to the man who’d deceived her. Amanda knew she was vulnerable. She knew her heart had been ripped out of her chest and broken in two. She needed time to heal, just like Rahman did. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to tell her that.
When the au pair came to retrieve the little girls for their baths, they kissed Amanda good-night and she reluctantly went back to the kitchen to help Rosie toss the salad.
“The girls are crazy about you,” Rosie said as the three of them sat down at the candlelit dining room table.
“It’s mutual,” Amanda said. “I’m gaga over them. They’re the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you,” Rosie said with a proud smile. “Now have some fondue and then tell us what happened with the sheik.”
“I met him and I decided I couldn’t do it,” she said.
“Why, what did he say? How did he act?” Rosie asked.
“Just the way I’d expected. Impatient, arrogant, demanding. I told myself life is too short to spend it on somebody like that.”
“Of course he’s sick,” Rosie interjected. “Being sick brings out the worst in anyone.”
“I know. I know. I tried to make allowances for that. He has every right to be cranky. He’s obviously in pain. He’s frustrated. He’s used to being in charge. Suddenly he’s immobilized. Has to ring a bell when he wants something. It’s difficult. It’s humiliating.” As she said the words she pictured the man in the bed, his gaze haunting her even now, hours later. She remembered the way he held her hand and she held his.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to say ‘but…?”’ Rosie asked with a smile.
“But he’s a sheik,” Amanda reiterated. “I don’t know for sure, but I have the feeling the traits I saw today will be there when he gets well. I suspect that he’s spoiled and that he’s always gotten everything he’s ever wanted.” If so, then why the sad look when he thought no one was looking? Maybe he hadn’t really gotten everything he’d ever wanted. “I’ve dealt with a lot of difficult patients, but this man…”
“He got to you, didn’t he?” Rosie asked, her forehead puckered in a frown. “That’s not like you. Not like the old cool and calm Amanda. You were such a natural in the trauma center. Nothing rattled you. But this guy rattled you, I can tell. How come?”
“Maybe I felt sorry for him and I didn’t want to.” Maybe I was attracted to him and I didn’t want to be. “I don’t know.”
Amanda played over their conversation as she ate her salad. Why had Rahman gotten to her? Why had she reacted so strongly? She’d had good-looking male patients before. Patients who flirted with her and who tried to make passes at her from their hospital beds. She’d been able to rebuff them pleasantly and firmly and that was the end of it. Rahman hadn’t even really flirted with her.
“Sorry,” Amanda said jolted out of her reverie. “Did you ask me something?”
“I gather you’ve decided not to take his case then,” Rosie said.
“No, despite what I said, I’m going to do it.”
“What?” Rosie’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“A funny thing happened on my way out of Rahman’s room. I ran into Rafik. That’s the sheik’s twin brother. He’s everything Rahman isn’t. He’s very nice and low-key and thoughtful. He asked if he could talk to me and we went to the lounge where I told him I couldn’t take the case.
“He said he understood but asked me to think it over. Maybe if I saw the place…So we drove to the ski ‘cabin’ as you call it. And you’re right, it’s a beautiful house, all done in natural wood and stone with a spectacular view of the lake. They’ve ordered every kind of equipment you can think of for his recovery. A veritable rehab unit right there on the lake with a year-round housekeeper who is a great cook, if the smells coming from the kitchen are any indication.
“I met the whole family, his brother’s wife, his cousin, his wife and a few others I’m not sure who they were. They convinced me to take on Rahman. They said he hasn’t been himself lately. It’s not just his accident. It’s other things, too. Apparently he’s not only hurting physically, he’s also hurting emotionally. They didn’t say what the other things were. I suppose it’s none of my business.”
“So they talked you into it,” Rosie said. “I hope it works out.”
“So do I because the die is cast. The family is all leaving town to go back to San Francisco now that they’ve found me.”
“I hope they know how lucky they are,” Rosie said emphatically.
“They’re definitely making it worth my while,” Amanda admitted. “I’m not just doing it out of the goodness of my heart. They’ve offered me a lot of money and I get to live in that gorgeous house.” That didn’t change the fact that she was risking her newfound serenity. That she wasn’t at all sure it was the right thing to do.
“When will the hospital discharge him?” Rosie asked.
“I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow. The house isn’t quite ready yet. Needless to say Rahman is impatient.”
