Chapter 4
Alex wished she could luxuriate in the whirlpool tub that she found in the bathroom, but she was only able to give Simone a quick bath in it, and then hurriedly clean herself before she had to appear for breakfast. She cleaned up as best she could, running her hands over the extra soft, extra large towels one more time before exiting the bathroom and dressing herself and her daughter. The bedroom was as luxurious as the bathroom, and she wondered if she would ever sleep on silk sheets again in her life. She dressed quickly, and put Simone into clean clothes, then spread the bed, repacked the overnight bag, and opened the door in time to see Malik Faisal standing there with his hand upraised, ready to knock.
“Good morning, Mr. Faisal,” she said, smiling brightly, and then colored slightly as she realized that she wasn’t really sure what time it was.
“Good morning to you too, Ms. Downing,” he replied, and then turned his beatific smile on Simone, going down on one knee before the child. “And good morning to you, Miss Parker,” he added.
“Good morning, Mr. Fi…” Simone stumbled over his name. “Mr. Fice.” She looked him in the eye as she shortened his name and fumed, “I can’t say it right.”
Malik Faisal laughed, and said, “Not to worry, little one. Mr. Fice is good enough.”
“Did you sleep well?” he asked her, still on his knee.
“Yes, thank you,” she said politely.
Then she looked up at her mother. “Mommy, what’s for breakfast?”
Alex smiled down at her daughter, amused that she had dismissed the man still on his knees in favor of food. She looked at him as he stood up, and said,
“I think Mr. Faisal knows that better than I do.”
“Indeed, Ms. Downing,” he said, “I was just coming to tell you that breakfast is served.”
“Thank you,” she said, following him out into the main cabin, which was already occupied by a man whom she had to do a double take to recognize as Prince Amir.
He was dressed in a dark blue suit, complete with a light blue shirt and dark blue tie, but with a white keffiyeh bound to his head by a dark blue agal. He looked a different man, and yet, when his eyes caught hers, she recognized the spark that still arced between them. It had not been a dream, then, and she would do well to guard her heart. This man was out of her league. He was royalty, and she didn’t wish to jeopardize her job by being at all familiar, or responding to what in an ordinary man might have been read as interest. He was just being polite, and the spark was all in her mind.
His gray eyes darkened as he took note of the way she avoided his gaze, but he said nothing, only stood and greeted her, removing his headgear as he did so. She returned the greeting, and sat where Malik Faisal was holding a chair for her. The prince was seating Simone, helping her to sit in the booster seat so that she would be able to reach her food comfortably.
“I did not know what you would like for breakfast, Ms. Downing,” Malik Faisal said, “so I ordered some continental breakfast items as well as foods more traditional in our culture. Please help yourself to whatever you wish. We will be landing in two hours, so you have a little time to enjoy the repast.”
Alex asked Simone what she wanted to eat, and gave the child half an orange, some scrambled eggs and a piece of bacon.
“If you want to have a bit more, you’ll have to finish this,” she told her, and smiled when Simone said, “I’m hungry, Mommy,” as though that was a guarantee that she’d eat it all.
Noting that the Prince was not eating, she wondered if she had been late for breakfast. There was still a lot of food on the table, and she was a little worried about eating too much. She didn’t want to come off as greedy, but like Simone, she was hungry. She finally settled on bacon, eggs over easy and thick French toast, which she slathered with syrup.
“Would you prefer tea or coffee, Ms. Downing?” Malik — she really had to stop thinking of him as both his names — asked.
“Coffee will be fine, thank you,” she said, and accepted the delicate cup he offered her full of the steaming liquid.
“Your work will begin as soon as we arrive, Ms. Downing,” the prince said, “So I thought we should discuss a few last things.”
Alex listened as he told her that her quarters would be right across from the sheikh’s, joined by a sitting room. He had installed a baby monitor so she would be able to hear what was happening even when she was out of his actual bedroom. She would take her meals with her daughter only, or with his father, unless otherwise instructed to do so. The nurse who had been working with him part time had been instructed to leave a detailed list of times and medications, as well as any other activity important for his upkeep. He would be given his baths by a male attendant. She paid close attention, feeling her tummy flutter with nerves. She knew her job, and could provide quality elder care for the king, but what if he weren’t as agreeable as his son?
“Is there a direct line to your office, or to a hospital, in the event of an emergency?” she asked, draining her coffee cup, and reaching for the glass of water on her placemat.
“There will be three numbers, programmed on the handset. The first is mine, the second is Malik’s, and the third is the hospital. I would prefer that you call me first always. Malik is usually with me.”
She could feel his gaze on her as she ate, and turned to Simone, using the child as a shield.
“Are you done, baby?” she asked, and the little girl nodded.
She had managed to eat everything but a forkful of the eggs, for which Alex was grateful. She reached for a napkin, and barely managed to suppress her shock that they were warm, damp cloths. She cleaned the little girl’s hands, and then placed a half-finished glass of water before her.
“Now drink up. And then you may be excused.”
Malik helped her off the seat, and she scurried away to the box of toys by her seat, apparently oblivious of the fact that she was soaring thousands of feet above solid ground. At the thought, Alex swallowed nervously and excused herself to get another Xanax. She took it in the bathroom, not wanting either her employer or his right hand man to know. Smoothing her skirt, she returned to the main cabin and found the prince on his laptop. Malik was also busy on his tablet, and she sat next to Simone and tried to read the novel she had downloaded for the flight.
Something made her look up, in time to catch the prince staring at her intently. Should she smile at him? Pretend not to notice? She didn’t wish to encourage his attentions, but neither did she wish to appear rude. He took the decision out of her hands by smiling at her, a soft, engaging, meaningful smile, as though he wished to convey some important message to her. She didn’t understand it, but she returned his smile with a fleeting one of her own, before looking back at the words on her tablet which she had been re-reading uselessly for the last minute. This man was going to stretch her control beyond measure, she realized, because there was just something about his handsome face and kind nature that made her want things she shouldn’t want, and knew she couldn’t have, with him.
Finally, the pilot announced that they were descending, and as she strapped her in, she showed Simone what they were passing over, once they came through the clouds. The landing was smooth, although she supposed the Xanax helped with that, and before she knew it, she was walking down the stairs and into a blast of heat that had her gasping for breath. A delegation was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs, and Malik, who had followed his prince out of the aircraft, waited to help her and Simone off the last stair. She stood where he indicated and waited until all the official greetings had been done.
The prince, once again in his headgear, looked right at home among the men who surrounded him, and Alex realized, as she followed along behind the group, that at least four of the men were his personal security detail. She wondered where they had been back home, and on the plane, but she didn’t think then was a good time to ask. And she wondered why a Crown Prince from a country she had never heard of needed four men guarding him. That was not a question she would ever ask, especially worded the way she had just thought it. The last thing she needed to do was to insult the man who would be paying her an obscene amount of money to care for someone who would be gone very soon.
“You will ride with me, Ms. Downing,” the prince said, surprising her.
On the way to the airport, they had ridden in separate vehicles, he by himself, she with Malik and Simone. She wondered why things had changed, but again refrained from asking. Instead, she sat across from him in the cool luxury of the limousine, and when Simone came after her, she settled the child in her seat and strapped her in. One of his bodyguards walked around and sat in the front, and she saw Malik getting into the second limousine with the other three.
“What can I offer you to drink?” he asked, as she put on her own seatbelt. “I know it is very hot and stifling here. I’m sure Simone could use some water or juice?”
“What would you like to drink, honey?” she asked her daughter, completely floored by his kindness.
“Juice, Mommy,” the little girl replied, her eyes glued to the cartoon on the little screen that the prince had turned on.
Alex watched as Prince Amir leaned forward and removed a box of juice from the hidden refrigerator next to his seat. He pushed a thin straw into the opening and handed it to Simone, who murmured a distracted “Thank you”.
“And for you?” he asked, looking at her again.
“Oh…water, please,” she said, accepting the glass he handed to her, and watching him pour water from a bottle into it. And then, before she could censor herself, she added, “I’m pretty sure it’s not standard royal protocol for the Crown Prince to serve his servants.”
“Standard royal protocol is whatever I choose to make it,” he replied arrogantly, smiling to take any sting out of it. “What is wrong with me giving you a drink?”
Alex felt flustered, not knowing how to extricate herself from a conversation she should have known better than to start.
“I…I didn’t mean it was wrong, Your Highness,” she stuttered. “I wouldn’t dream of criticizing your actions or decisions.”
He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving her face, and waited a very long moment more before replying.
“Perhaps I wish to show you that everyone deserves to be served, and pampered, and cared for,” he replied. “You did it daily in your last job, and you are getting ready to do it again in my home.”
Another long pause, while she struggled to think of something to say in response, and then he ended with a question..
“Do you object to being served by a Crown Prince?”
Her eyes shot up to his face, sure she would see anger there, but what she saw made a small giggle escape before she could control it. He was teasing her! The very idea was unheard of in her book. Whoever heard of a prince teasing his staff? Granted, she had observed that his relationship with Malik was much friendlier than she might have expected between him and his PA, but he barely knew her, so to be teased so soon seemed somehow significant.
“No, Your Highness. How could I object? It will most likely never happen again,” she dared to tease in return.
Something flashed in his eyes, making them darken to black. She held her breath, wondering if she had presumed too much. Then he spoke, his voice cool.
“Then you must enjoy it while you can,” he said.
She turned her eyes away to look out at the scenes passing by the window…anything to avoid his suddenly heated gaze. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was making a play for her. But that was just absurd. He was a prince, soon to be a king, for crying out loud! Whatever made her think he would even look twice at her, a mere LPN, with a kid in tow, at that? She wasn’t a prize on any day of the week to most guys, and definitely not to this guy. Simone’s warm body slumped against her, and she reached around and pulled her as close as the seatbelt would allow, closing her eyes and praying that her emotions would settle soon.
A warm hand on her knee woke her from a nap. She had no idea when she fell asleep, but she felt infinitely better, if embarrassed at having fallen asleep in the prince’s company. Had she slept with her mouth open, or snored? Had she drooled? She swiped her thumb and forefinger down the sides of her lips and found them thankfully dry.
“We are here, Ms. Downing,” the prince said, removing his hand.
She missed his touch at once, but she did not miss the way he closed his fist, and she wondered why he did so. It would be nice to think that he was as affected by her as she was by him. It would mean that touching her was as much a treat for him as being touched by him was for her. Sighing inwardly, she roused Simone, and before long, they were standing once again in stifling heat, only this time the vehicles were stopped beneath a sheltering roof over the driveway.
“Please follow me, Ms. Downing,” Malik said, gesturing to the door, through which she followed him a minute later, holding her daughter’s hand.
The interior was blessedly cool, and Alex followed Malik without paying any attention to where she was going. She was too busy being impressed by the beauty and elegance of the interior, and the sumptuousness of the style. Paintings, sculptures, wall colors, window dressings, furniture…everything attested not only to great wealth but also superlative taste in interior design. The colors were all in the warm palette, mostly reds and golds, but with some blues and greens to achieve a balance that was as aesthetically pleasing as it was elegant, and worthy of royalty.
Eventually Malik stopped before a set of double doors that were magnificent. There were twin copper circles with a rampant lion inside each one, inset in deep, heavy mahogany. He knocked once and then pushed the doors inward, revealing a huge space that it turned out was the part of the wing in which the elder sheikh lived. She walked in, feeling Simone clutching her hand nervously. An old man sat ramrod straight in a wheelchair, his gray hair shining in the afternoon light that streamed through the French doors he was sitting in front of. Alex could see what looked like manicured lawns through the doors, and she wondered how anything could grow in such heat and dryness. They had driven through a lot of desert to get to the palace.
“His Majesty is usually most lucid for a few hours each afternoon, and at night before he goes to sleep,” Malik explained. “It used to be that he was lucid by day and not by night, but things have been changing recently.”
“As the disease progresses, things do get increasingly worse,” Alex murmured, and then said, “But I’m sure you already know that.” She looked at the old man as they approached, and added, “I’m surprised that he still is so erect, though.”
“His Majesty has been able to retain a lot of his strength, surprisingly, though that, too is waning rapidly,” Malik replied. “He can now only sit in his wheelchair for two hours at the most before he needs the recliner. He does not enjoy being in his bed except when it is time to sleep, and there is the challenge of moving him from the recliner to his bed.”
They had reached him by this point, and Malik spoke to him quietly.
“Salaam, Your Majesty,” he said, and waited.
The old man turned his head and narrowed his eyes. “Salaam, Malik.”
Alex looked him in the eye, slipping into professional mode as she took in the condition of his body. He was rail thin, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes sunken. But his dark skin was clear, his eyes bright, and his hands fairly steady on the arms of the wheelchair.
“Who is this woman?” he asked Malik, pinning her with his unwavering gaze.
“This is Alexandra Downing, Your Majesty,” Malik replied, “and her daughter Simone. Ms. Downing will be your caregiver.”
The sheikh looked her over, from the top of her neat bun to her sandal-clad feet. She felt his stare resting heavily on every place he looked, and she wondered what he was thinking about what he saw. He gestured for her to step forward, and she did, with Simone clinging to her, trembling slightly.
“Why have you left your husband, and taken your child to a foreign country whose customs you do not know to care for a dying man?”
Alex was taken aback by his question, and by the hard tone of his voice. She felt almost as though she were on trial, and her answer would lose her the job if her own tone and words did not satisfy him.
“Simone’s father is dead, Your Majesty,” she said, glad she was not lying, even though she had omitted the part where she had not been married to him. She was sure that would be severely frowned upon in this country. “And I need the job.”
“You have no family?” He asked next. “No one to care for you? No man to love you?”
Alex looked over at Malik, wondering why he had not warned her that “lucid” meant nosy, old-fashioned, and arrogant, as well as clear-minded.
“My parents are both gone, sir,” she said, not letting the hurt she still felt grip her, “and I was their only child. And there is no one else.”
She didn’t want to sound pathetic, because she didn’t need anyone’s pity, and especially not this man’s. She wanted respect, and she was damned if she would let him make her feel less than she was because she only had Simone in the whole world to love her.
He stared at her for another long moment. “I see you do not require my pity, so I will not offer it,” he said, shocking her completely. “Come and sit with me. And bring your daughter. I wish to talk with her, as well.”
Malik was already setting out chairs and ushered her and Simone over to them. Once Simone was settled, Malik said,
“Your Majesty, the little one might be hungry…”
The king interrupted him before he was finished. “Yes, of course. Have them bring enough for us and the child.”
Malik bowed and withdrew, leaving Alex alone with her patient. He had turned to look out over the lawns, and what Alex now saw was a small flower garden.
“I love to sit here, in the height of the afternoon, to watch the day go by,” he said. “It is one of my few remaining pleasures.”
Alex didn’t know how to reply. She felt unusually tongue-tied, and stared ahead as well, wishing she could forget who he was and think only that he was a dying man who needed her to help him die with dignity.
“What do you enjoy doing, Ms. Downing?” he asked, apparently recognizing that she didn’t know how to answer his comment.
“Apart from my work,” she began, needing him to know that working with him would not be a chore, “I enjoy reading and playing games with Simone.”
“Do you not enjoy other pursuits unrelated to your responsibilities?” he wanted to know, obviously not interested in whether or not she liked her job.
“I liked the lessons I took in horseback riding and marksmanship,” she said, remembering how much fun those five sessions had been.
“Ah, a woman of action and passion,” he said, turning suddenly to pierce her with his gaze. “I am sure that Malik can arrange for those lessons to continue here. Since you have moved your home for me, it is the least I can do.”
“Oh! Oh, thank you, Your Majesty,” she replied. “I wasn’t asking…”
“Did I say you were, Ms. Downing?” he snapped irritably. “Do I need your permission to bestow my largesse upon you? Do you not work for me?” He paused to catch his breath and continued, berating her, “Do not presume to tell me how I may dispose of what is mine. And do not adopt a pose of humility with me. We will get along much better if you are honest. I do not tolerate falsehood in any form!” he ended imperiously.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Alex said docilely, chastened, annoyed, and amused all at once.
She could tell this was going to be an interesting time. And suddenly, she was looking forward to it. A smile curved her lips, and she turned her attention back to his voice as he asked her a question about Simone.