rape?
But no matter how it had been conceived, surely once she’d decided to carry the baby to term, she should have been bonding with it, talking to it, comforting it with touch as well as her voice. He remembered how he’d felt when he’d heard he was to be a father—proud and pleased, a little anxious that he’d prove up to the task, and even though he’d not been as involved as he should have been, a small kernel of excitement and anticipation had come to life within him.
Only to die with his wife and child.
Was this why her attitude towards her unborn child bothered him? Because to him it spoke of a lack of caring, yet in other ways he knew this woman to be extremely empathetic, and very caring.
He longed to know more, yet knew it wasn’t his business, and as for the attraction he felt towards her—that was nothing more than a distraction. Saif had set a tray of diverse snacks in front of her, and she was smiling with delight, thanking him for his kindness, sampling things and praising him.
And undoubtedly it was jealousy he, Khalifa, was feeling.
What he needed was a parachute.
He pictured flinging himself off the plane and smiled at the stupidity of the thought, but deep inside he knew he’d have to do whatever he could to avoid this woman’s company. Yes, they’d have to consult from time to time, but he would throw himself into work, both the work of government and his work as head of the surgical department at the hospital, so there’d be no time for him to be distracted by a flame-haired siren.
A pregnant, flame-haired siren!
CHAPTER FOUR
S AIF took the dishes before asking Liz to prepare for landing, and as the plane dropped lower in the sky and banked, she looked out of the window, seeing a land mass emerging from the clouds, then as the mass became clearer, she made out a long ridge of mountains like a spine running down the curving stretch of land—the land looking golden against the brilliant, blue-green sea that surrounded it.
‘Oh,’ she cried, as the island took shape. ‘It’s a dragon!’
Khalifa nodded, his smile one of approval and delight.
‘Al Tinine—the dragon,’ he said, and Liz felt a shiver of excitement. What might lie ahead in this magical place, this dragon land of myths and legends? A land of deserts and oases, of hunting birds with passports, and an enigmatic man who made her fizz and spark when he laughed?
She watched as the plane dropped lower, seeing now the red harshness of the mountain range, the softer red of desert sands spreading away from it, splotches of green here and there—oases, she imagined—and then a city that from the air looked pink.
Could it really be?
The wheels touched down and the engines roared as it slowed. They were here—in Al Tinine. In Najme, in fact, for Khalifa had told her they’d fly straight to the city where his new hospital awaited her.
Disembarking from the plane was a relief, Liz told herself, yet as she walked down the steps to where a big black four-wheel-drive vehicle waited, she felt a sense of regret.
She and Khalifa hadn’t actually become friends, but they’d laughed together once or twice and she’d felt a connection to him—as if some indefinable bond was holding them together.
As wild a thought as the stories of Scheherazade, she told herself, looking around the flat expanse of the airfield and smiling as she noticed not high-rise buildings or even factories on its outer limits but hills of sand.
The Endless Desert—wasn’t that what Khalifa had called it?
And suddenly she was excited, looking forward to every minute of this experience, looking forward to being positive and cheerful and, yes, successful in this new venture. She even gave the baby a pat, although getting too attached was still definitely not on—not when Oliver was likely to come out of his coma and want his child.
She’d be its aunt—Oliver couldn’t take that away from her—but whether, with Bill gone from his life, Oliver
But no matter how it had been conceived, surely once she’d decided to carry the baby to term, she should have been bonding with it, talking to it, comforting it with touch as well as her voice. He remembered how he’d felt when he’d heard he was to be a father—proud and pleased, a little anxious that he’d prove up to the task, and even though he’d not been as involved as he should have been, a small kernel of excitement and anticipation had come to life within him.
Only to die with his wife and child.
Was this why her attitude towards her unborn child bothered him? Because to him it spoke of a lack of caring, yet in other ways he knew this woman to be extremely empathetic, and very caring.
He longed to know more, yet knew it wasn’t his business, and as for the attraction he felt towards her—that was nothing more than a distraction. Saif had set a tray of diverse snacks in front of her, and she was smiling with delight, thanking him for his kindness, sampling things and praising him.
And undoubtedly it was jealousy he, Khalifa, was feeling.
What he needed was a parachute.
He pictured flinging himself off the plane and smiled at the stupidity of the thought, but deep inside he knew he’d have to do whatever he could to avoid this woman’s company. Yes, they’d have to consult from time to time, but he would throw himself into work, both the work of government and his work as head of the surgical department at the hospital, so there’d be no time for him to be distracted by a flame-haired siren.
A pregnant, flame-haired siren!
CHAPTER FOUR
S AIF took the dishes before asking Liz to prepare for landing, and as the plane dropped lower in the sky and banked, she looked out of the window, seeing a land mass emerging from the clouds, then as the mass became clearer, she made out a long ridge of mountains like a spine running down the curving stretch of land—the land looking golden against the brilliant, blue-green sea that surrounded it.
‘Oh,’ she cried, as the island took shape. ‘It’s a dragon!’
Khalifa nodded, his smile one of approval and delight.
‘Al Tinine—the dragon,’ he said, and Liz felt a shiver of excitement. What might lie ahead in this magical place, this dragon land of myths and legends? A land of deserts and oases, of hunting birds with passports, and an enigmatic man who made her fizz and spark when he laughed?
She watched as the plane dropped lower, seeing now the red harshness of the mountain range, the softer red of desert sands spreading away from it, splotches of green here and there—oases, she imagined—and then a city that from the air looked pink.
Could it really be?
The wheels touched down and the engines roared as it slowed. They were here—in Al Tinine. In Najme, in fact, for Khalifa had told her they’d fly straight to the city where his new hospital awaited her.
Disembarking from the plane was a relief, Liz told herself, yet as she walked down the steps to where a big black four-wheel-drive vehicle waited, she felt a sense of regret.
She and Khalifa hadn’t actually become friends, but they’d laughed together once or twice and she’d felt a connection to him—as if some indefinable bond was holding them together.
As wild a thought as the stories of Scheherazade, she told herself, looking around the flat expanse of the airfield and smiling as she noticed not high-rise buildings or even factories on its outer limits but hills of sand.
The Endless Desert—wasn’t that what Khalifa had called it?
And suddenly she was excited, looking forward to every minute of this experience, looking forward to being positive and cheerful and, yes, successful in this new venture. She even gave the baby a pat, although getting too attached was still definitely not on—not when Oliver was likely to come out of his coma and want his child.
She’d be its aunt—Oliver couldn’t take that away from her—but whether, with Bill gone from his life, Oliver
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