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Sheikh Surgeon, Surprise Bride
Josie Metcalfe
Ambitious orthopedic surgeon Lily Langley is delighted to be working with the prestigious Razak Khan. However, Lily is not prepared for the rush of sensual heat that sparks between them every time their fingers brush or their eyes meet.Razak is attracted to Lily, but he has duties and responsibilities that will take him back to his desert kingdom and away from his English beauty. Duties and responsibilities he has never really wanted and would gladly relinquish in favor of his passion for saving lives and for the woman he loves.
Lily pressed back against the ancient wall, hoping that she would be invisible in the deep shadows of the colonnade
She had no idea what had woken her. Perhaps the sound of Razak’s voice through the open door that led out to the atrium—although she hadn’t realized it was open until she saw the filmy curtain billowing gently.
“Why him?” she breathed, closing her eyes tight against the threat of tears. Why did she have to go and fall in love with someone so unattainable?
She must have made a sound, because the next thing she knew he was there in front of her, a dark silhouette against the beaten silver of the moonlit pool behind him.
“Lily?” he murmured, framing her shoulders with the gentle warmth of his hands and angling his head to peer into her face. “You should go inside, away from the breeze,” he said. But when she thought he would usher her into her room and return to his own, he accompanied her through the gauzy curtains and turned her to face him again.
“Don’t look away,” he whispered, cupping his fingers around her face and tilting it up toward his again. And she was lost, gazing into those dark eyes that had captivated her the first time she’d seen them.
Dear Reader,
When Razak Khan appeared in A Family To Come Home To, so good-looking and charming, he was only supposed to be a minor character. Then I started wondering about him—about his background, about his career and his private life, about the things that were important to him and his future.
Then I wondered what it would do to all his plans if he were to meet someone who challenged him and his view of the future.
To Lily, her career had been her main focus since she was a young girl, so meeting a man like Razak—a man who made her aware that she was a woman as well as a surgeon—was bound to turn everything on its head. How was she going to resist him when they were spending so many hours a day in each other’s company, their eyes speaking volumes over the tops of their masks without a word being said?
The obstacles between them and the way they are overcome only go to prove something I have always believed—that anything worth having is something worth fighting for.
I hope you enjoy their story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Happy reading,
Josie
Sheikh Surgeon, Surprise Bride
Josie Metcalfe
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#ubdb641c8-dbf1-5c05-b8fa-20cdbeaa3604)
CHAPTER TWO (#u944f7c0b-4c20-59ea-b0c0-81c8fd5eaeaf)
CHAPTER THREE (#u0e169841-033d-5c91-aa83-5b3bb1c6ba74)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
‘SO, HAVE you hooked yourself a doctor, yet, Lil?’ her sister Iris asked, but the question could just as well have been put by anyone of the noisy group gathered in her parents’ cramped living room.
‘I’m not trying to hook one. I don’t need to because I’m a doctor myself,’ Lily pointed out rationally, but that cut no ice with her family.
‘A complete waste of time and money, that’s what I call it,’ her mother pronounced—as usual—as she heaved herself off ‘her’ corner of the settee to put the kettle on again. ‘You’ve got more debts than your father and I have had our whole lives and you still can’t find yourself a husband. By the time I was your age, I’d already had five children and there was another one on the way.’
Lily had heard that particular refrain so many times that it was easy to tune it out. Her mother wouldn’t deliberately hurt any of her children, although her habit of speaking her mind had caused more than a few hidden bruises.
It was her sisters and sisters-in-law that she found it harder to deal with. Their pitying glances in her direction and their conversations were just quiet enough for them to pretend that she wasn’t supposed to hear but loud enough that she was left in no doubt what they thought of the ‘uppity cow’ trying to pretend that she was so much better than they were.
She stifled a sigh when her father gave a pointed jerk of his head to tell her that, as the eldest, she should have followed her mother out of the room to help her get his meal. She couldn’t remember the first time she’d done it. It had been so many years ago that it was hidden in the mists of time, along with the memory of the first time she’d spooned food into her younger siblings’ mouths and changed their nappies.
Sometimes she wondered why she bothered coming home at all when it felt as if she had to spend the whole time apologising for who she was and the choices she’d made. Of course, she knew why she did come—because she loved her family, no matter what. It was just that sometimes she wished…
‘Do you still remember how to peel potatoes, now that you can afford to eat out all the time?’ demanded her mother, as she bustled around a kitchen that had hardly changed from the day Lily had been born. Appliances had been replaced as they had given out and the cupboards had been repainted, but the colour scheme was the same magnolia and white it had always been. It was ironic that tastes in interior decorating had turned full circle so that it was back in fashion again.
‘Doctors don’t have time to eat out all the time, even if they could afford it,’ she said quietly, as she reached for the peeler and the first of a mountain of potatoes. ‘As students, we’re so short of money we can barely afford to eat and once we’ve qualified, we’re left with massive debts to pay off, so we still can’t afford it.’
‘So where was the point in doing all that studying?’ Rose Langley demanded impatiently. ‘Your father started working shifts as soon as he left school but at least the two of us got time to see each other. You seem to do nothing but work, and men don’t like it when a woman doesn’t pay them any attention…’ Lily saw her throw a sideways glance at her eldest’s well-worn jeans and generic sweatshirt. ‘Or when she doesn’t make the effort to do herself up a bit.’
That jab hit a sensitive spot and Lily winced. In spite of her sisters’ taunts that there was ‘no point in gilding the Lily’, it was still a fact that she was the plain one of the family, even if she had been the only one of the girls to inherit her father’s long, lean build.
‘Everything I wear is clean, bought and paid for,’ she pointed out defensively. ‘I have to dress smartly to meet the patients in the orthopaedic clinic but when I’m in the operating theatre I’m in cotton scrubs.’
‘I’ve seen them on the telly. Totally shapeless green pyjamas,’ her mother said, and tut-tutted with distaste. ‘How is any man going to be attracted to you in that? Now, if you had a boob job, or something, to give you a bit of shape…’ She shook her head wearily. ‘I know. I know. You couldn’t afford to even if you wanted to, but if you’re ever going to get married and have a family you’re going to have to buck your ideas up before all the good ones are gone. You’re over thirty already.’
Her tone of voice made it sound like eighty and Lily supposed that to a woman who’d already had most of her family by that age, she’d even gone beyond being classed as a late starter. It was definitely time to redirect the conversation, and subtlety wasn’t an option.
‘Mum, I think you got the last really good one,’ she said with blatant flattery, her tongue firmly in her cheek. ‘How can I get married to someone who doesn’t measure up to Dad?’
‘Well, there is that, I suppose,’ her mother agreed, with more than a touch of smugness. ‘Your dad’s never let me down in all the years we’ve been married. He brought his pay cheque home to me every week…until work started putting it straight into the bank for him. He’s not a smoker or much of a drinker, not like most of his mates, nor does he chase around after other women.’
‘He doesn’t need to,’ Lily pointed out, with a sly look at her mother to see how the sweet talk was going down. ‘He got all the woman he needs when he got you.’
‘Get on with you,’ Rose said dismissively, but a coy grin lifted the corners of her mouth at Lily’s implied compliment.
The deliberate innuendo had the desired effect of side-tracking her mother’s perennial complaint, but the strange thing was, deep down Lily actually meant what she’d said. Her parents were well matched and totally content with their separate roles within their marriage, and her father was the sort of honest, hard-working man that was a million miles from the self-obsessed hustlers and chancers around today. Where had all the solid, reliable hard-working men gone…the ones who would make a commitment and stick to it through thick and thin? She certainly hadn’t come across any…not that she was looking. She still had years of work before her debts were paid and she achieved the coveted position of consultant.
Now, if only someone would come up with an alternative topic of conversation over the dinner table—something other than Lily Langley’s many shortcomings—she might be able to return to her flat without indigestion.
She’d actually hoped that someone would have remembered that she was due to start her new job in the morning and that it was, hopefully, the last rung in her career ladder before she reached the very top.
Unfortunately, the inner workings of the hospital hierarchy couldn’t be less interesting to this cheerful gathering, especially with a traditional roast dinner in front of them and at least half a dozen members of the next generation needing assistance to refuel for the next noisy round of hide and seek in the garden.
‘Give me strength!’ Razak pleaded with the oblivious walls of his flat then let loose with a string of curses in his native language. He knew he was not very good at waiting around when something needed doing, and the interminable delay while committees talked something to death was driving him crazy.
‘When are they ever going to get off the fence and make a decision? It’s been weeks since I outlined my plan, and the new surgeon starts tomorrow.’
It was bad enough that the problems with the foundations of the new building had set completion back by several weeks. He’d really hoped that he would have had an answer by now so he could have begun recruiting staff. It was important that everything should be up and running with as few glitches as possible. With everything ironed out before the new surgeon arrived they could have jumped straight into the new system, and he’d been waiting for the decision—the final decision?—all afternoon, knowing that the committee was due to meet today. But, then, he didn’t know whether his proposal was even on the agenda.
He would have to look on the bright side and treat the aggravating delay as a chance to see the new member of his team at work. His plans called for a skilled surgeon who could combine work of the highest standard with a willingness to work hard and fast without direct supervision. He might need several sessions of observation before he would be confident about handing his patients over for closing. And all the while, at the back of his mind, was the fact that even if he did get the go-ahead, he didn’t have long to find out whether the system worked. It wouldn’t be long before he came to the end of his time here and he needed so much more experience before he’d be ready to take on the responsibility for setting up a whole new orthopaedic department.
‘So, I can make best use of the delay, but if the committee doesn’t make the right decision in the end, and soon…’
His railings were curtailed by the chirp of his mobile phone and he fished it out of his pocket. A glance at the number displayed on the screen had him smiling immediately.
‘Hey, Karim! How are you, baby brother?’
‘Not so much of the baby, thank you,’ the voice on the other end growled in mock anger. ‘You should show me more respect, even if you are some big important doctor. It won’t be long before you have to make obeisance…’ He cut himself off with a curse of his own. ‘I’m sorry about that. It was thoughtless in the circumstances when the honour is yours by right and will only be passed on when our father is…with us no more. It’s just…’
‘Forget it, Karim. That sort of jest is part of the way we relate to each other and has nothing to do with being impatient for someone to die so you can step into their shoes,’ Razak finished for him, sparing his brother’s blushes at such a faux pas. ‘Don’t worry about it. I know you weren’t being disrespectful but…how are they?’
‘Much the same as usual,’ Karim reported cautiously. ‘Physically, they’re far frailer than they’d ever admit, but mentally as sharp as ever. And your mother is forever begging your father to order you to return home so she can persuade you to change your mind about the succession. She still expects to put on a lavish wedding when you return. Dita will have taken all her exams by then.’
Razak’s antennae went up when he heard the change in Karim’s voice when he’d mentioned Dita’s name. Could it be that the girl he’d been betrothed to almost from the cradle had grown up into the sort of woman who would catch Karim’s eye?
Unfortunately, to Razak she could never be anything other than an extra sister—there had never been that extra spark between them. That was one of the reasons why he’d been so willing to help Dita fight for permission to travel abroad to study. With her horizons widened, she would be far less likely to allow her parents to browbeat her into a marriage that neither of the participants wanted.
And if Karim were to take her eye…?
‘How is the project coming on?’ Razak demanded briskly, turning his mind away from the more frivolous side of life. He had goals to achieve before he could even think about taking a mate. ‘Will everything be finished by the time I return?’
‘Of course,’ Karim said confidently. ‘By the time my brother the eminent consultant orthopaedic surgeon returns to his homeland, there will be a brand-new, fully equipped orthopaedic centre ready and waiting for him. Don’t forget, it is Karim the Organiser managing this project, so all will be well.’
They bantered for several minutes before Razak remembered that he was still hoping that he would get that all-important phone call from his present hospital.
‘I must go,’ he said with a pang of homesickness. It had been so many years since he’d made anything more than a cursory visit there, but in a matter of months he would return for good. ‘You will let me know if…if they need me to come back sooner?’
‘Of course, big brother,’ Karim reassured him quietly. ‘I won’t let you down. Go with God.’
Razak sighed heavily and sank back into the comfort of his recliner when the connection was broken. Sometimes he felt really guilty for being so far away when his parents were growing so frail. Not that he would be allowed to take care of their health even if he were right on the spot. His mother was far too traditional to be comfortable with a male doctor and his father would always see him as a little boy and consequently ignore any advice he gave him.
‘A thirty-one-year-old boy,’ he scoffed aloud even as he shot back his cuff for another glare at his watch, then gave a growl of annoyance when he realised that he wouldn’t be getting any answers today. ‘At this rate, I’ll already have finished my contract and returned home by the time they make their minds up.’
For a moment he contemplated staying where he was to watch some mindless pap on the television, but the idea didn’t appeal. He seemed to have spent most of the day sitting down and felt a desperate need for some exercise.
‘A gallop on horseback,’ he said longingly, remembering the muscular feel of the back of the horse between his thighs and the hot wind streaming through his hair the last time he’d been home. But this was neither the time nor the place. The only horse suited to a city street certainly wasn’t the sort of beast he was happy riding. His tastes ran to pure-blooded Arabians, hardy, strong far beyond their refined appearance, more intelligent than any dog and with an intrinsic fire that was bred bone-deep in them.
‘That’s the first thing I’ll do the next time I go home,’ he promised himself. ‘I shall take a horse out and lose myself for a day, so I can refresh my soul.’ But in the meantime he had a choice of running round and round on the indoor track at his sports club or swimming endless lengths in the pool, and he could make that decision when he got there. Then it would be time to sleep if he was going to be refreshed enough to deal with the fresh blood coming into the department in the morning.
‘Dr L. Langley,’ he mused aloud, wondering what the L stood for. He’d been angry when he’d first heard that a female surgeon had been appointed to his team, believing that the more senior consultants in the department had done it deliberately to spoil his chances of making a success of his project. But as he was only here on a short contract, he’d been allowed no say in the decision and would have to hope that if she wasn’t up to doing what he needed at the moment, she was at least willing to learn.
‘Enough!’ He hefted his sports bag over his shoulder and grabbed keys and phone, determined to switch his brain off to everything connected to work.
He would get to know all about Dr Langley soon enough. Hoping that she was a dedicated surgeon with the power and stamina of a plough horse was definitely not politically correct, but he didn’t need some delicate, willowy, model type who couldn’t carry her share of the load, no matter how easy she might be on the eye.
‘Women don’t belong in orthopaedics,’ said a voice behind the door, just as Lily began to push it open, and she froze in disbelief as it continued with all the authority of some demi-god pronouncing from on high. ‘They just don’t have the upper-body strength for it. If they want to do surgery, they should stick to something they’re more suited to.’
For just a second she contemplated turning on her heel and retreating to the locker room, but retreat had never been her way. Otherwise she’d never have got so far in her chosen field. With her chin tilted just a fraction higher, she forced a smile to her face and took the last step that brought her denigrator into full view. ‘So, while most of the one and a half thousand orthopaedic surgeons in the country are running waiting lists of up to a hundred and forty patients, each waiting for up to nine months for their operation, you’re suggesting that I should spend my time doing tummy tucks instead?’ she said, while inside her head she was groaning, Not again!
She’d hoped that, having got this far, she would at least have proved to the ‘old school’ orthopaedic surgeons that she was capable of doing the job, but it seemed as if their prejudices were still alive and festering unchecked in her new job. Did her immediate boss feel the same way?
Of the all-male group that had turned to face her, it was easy to spot the one looking uncomfortable at being overheard and he was the one she strode towards first with her hand outstretched. She took a grim delight in demonstrating that he was nearly a head shorter than she was and he was also definitely past his prime, with a large gut filling out his theatre greens like an advanced pregnancy.
‘I’m Lily Langley,’ she announced, probably completely unnecessarily as they’d just been discussing her appointment. Well, she mused as she deliberately made a point of offering her hand to each in turn, forcing them to introduce themselves, there was one good point about that embarrassing start—at least she hadn’t been left in any doubt about their attitude towards her.
One, Colin Wetherall, even went so far as to try to crush her knuckles under the guise of shaking her hand but he was the one left wincing, the hours she’d spent in the gym finally paying off in spades.
Not that she’d hurt him, she reassured herself silently as she worked her way around the semi-circle. She’d only flexed her hard-won muscles enough to let him know that his attempt at a power play hadn’t worked. Then she turned to face the final member of the group.
‘Hello,’ she said, as she actually had to look up a couple of inches to meet eyes so dark that with the light behind him it was almost impossible to see where pupil and iris met. But it was the twinkle of humour in them that robbed her of words.
‘Razak Khaled Khan,’ he said, the harsh syllables of his name softened by a voice that flowed like honey over her nerves, then he held out his hand, lowering his voice as he added, ‘Be gentle with me, please!’
Lily laughed aloud. She couldn’t help it when he’d managed to tickle her sense of the ridiculous. She wouldn’t even attempt to intimidate someone like this, especially when he was her boss.
He had such innate presence that she didn’t know how she’d managed to miss seeing him immediately when she’d walked into the room, but now that she’d met his eyes, it seemed impossible to look away.
‘Not all of us feel the same way as Reg and Colin,’ he reassured her. ‘Some of us have actually learned that it’s not just what we do but how we do it that matters.’
‘Thus proving evolutionary theory correct?’ she queried, suddenly realising that her hand was still securely wrapped in his and tugging surreptitiously. To her surprise, he resisted, tightening his grip fractionally to prevent her retrieving it.
He tightened his grip still further and nodded when she automatically matched the pressure with her own. ‘Good. You have worked hard to improve your strength, but have you sacrificed dexterity?’ he challenged.
‘I can thread a needle with the best of them,’she reassured him. ‘But you’ll see for yourself when we start work.’
‘Not if he has his way,’ interrupted Reg with an unexpected touch of venom to his tone. ‘He’s been trying to get the hospital to agree to some ridiculous conveyor-belt system that will mean we wouldn’t even have time to breathe, let alone speak, and as for mentoring…Forget it! Thank goodness the hospital’s administrators have got more sense than wasting scarce resources on it.’
Lily saw the way Razak’s face fell with disappointment and she felt an unexpected pang of sympathy. Whatever this scheme was, it was clearly close to his heart.
‘They have sent the department a written decision?’ he demanded, turning on his heel to stride towards the pigeonholes on the wall behind the door, then flicking impatiently through the handful of items waiting in the slot labelled ‘Khan’.
‘Well, no,’ Reg admitted reluctantly. ‘But it stands to reason that they will, man. It’s taken years to get the funding released for that new theatre suite to be built. Do you really think they’re going to hand the whole thing over to a surgeon who’s only going to be here for a few months, just so he can waste time, effort and precious resources trying to prove an…an alcohol-fuelled brainwave?’
‘I don’t drink alcohol,’ her new boss said with admirable restraint. ‘And I would have thought you would jump at the chance to have someone else working in the new theatres. Then he could suffer while all the teething problems are sorted out.
‘Anyway.’ He turned to face Lily and his sombre expression was immediately lightened by a smile. ‘It is time to give you the guided tour, Dr Langley. You will need to know your way around the rest of the hospital in case we get a call from A and E, and also to know where everything is within the department in case they send something urgent up to Theatre.’
