The Sheikh’s Rescued Baby (Hasan Sheikhs Book 3) Page 7

  The storm had arrived.

  The storm had arrived, and Karyme was crying.

  That took him a minute to discern, too, because of the distance from her bedroom to his, deep in his suite. He blinked. Was he really even hearing her? It didn’t matter—he’d check on her anyway. Nadim tossed back his blankets and grabbed a robe from the corner of the bed on the way out. The lights in the hallway had been turned to their very dimmest nighttime setting.

  Ah, yes—Karyme cried again the moment he opened his door. He moved quickly across the hall.

  “I’m coming, sweetheart.”

  The baby was sitting in her bed, and when he got close to the crib she reached her little hands up to him, still fussing. He picked her up, still murmuring to her. “It’s all right. I’m here. Did you have a bad dream? Or did the sound of the rain wake you up?”

  As he spoke, Karyme settled herself into her favorite position—her head on his shoulders, one hand in his beard. Her sweet baby breath whispered against his skin. Her cries softened, quieted, and then her whole body relaxed. Nadim kept rubbing her little back, her shoulder blades reminding him of tiny wings. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to memorize the weight of her in his arms and the baby scent of her skin.

  He had never expected to get attached to a baby on this tour. It was supposed to be a formality—something to get through with as little effort as possible. Nadim’s biggest goal had been to get his parents off his back about marriage. Funny how, now that he had their attention, it was only to bring him back in line with what they wanted out of his life. He swayed back and forth with Karyme in his arms, letting her relax, humming the love song from the plane.

  Aisha appeared at the door in a long robe, hair falling in gorgeous dark waves around her shoulders. Her eyes widened when she saw him, but then the surprise disappeared from her face.

  “I’ll be back later to check on her,” she said softly. Then she turned on her heel and left.

  “No problem,” he answered, though she was already gone. “I’ll be here with her until she’s ready to lie back down.”

  But for now he swayed, not in any hurry to return to his empty bed in his empty room. The emptiness filled up all the available space. Nadim had lost something, but what was it? It couldn’t be Aisha. He’d never had her in the first place. He took a deep breath, heart aching with that strangely bereft feeling, and started the song again, waiting for dawn.

  11

  “Sultana.” A hand came down through the haze of sleep to shake Aisha’s shoulder. “Sultana. Aisha—you’re needed in the situation room. I’m sorry, I know you haven’t slept long.”

  Aisha stifled a groan and rolled over, rubbing at gritty eyes. She’d been up most of the night tracking the storm. It had hit in the early hours of the morning, and they’d known right away that it wouldn’t be the glancing blow they’d hoped for.

  “What happened?” She pushed herself upright in the bed. It had only been a couple of hours since she’d come to steal some sleep. Her head throbbed. Aisha had wanted to cry after the argument with Nadim, but that wasn’t her style. Breaking down in the situation room? No. So she’d held the tears back, keeping her eyes dry through sheer force of will. “I think I’ll need something to help with this headache, Sanaa. But bring me up to speed. What did I miss?”

  Sanaa went to the low dresser at the side of the room and took out a small bottle from one of the drawers. She shook a couple of pills—over-the-counter pain reliever—into her palm while she spoke. “The storm has stalled out and is essentially turning in a large circle over Kendah. It’s not moving back out over the ocean, the way the weather experts thought it might.”

  Aisha fell back on the pillows and groaned. “Okay. So things are bad.”

  “We’ve gotten several inches of rain so far.” Sanaa came back over to the bed and handed Aisha the pills and a glass of water. Aisha sat up long enough to swallow them, then lay down again. She wanted, more than anything, to go back to sleep.

  “That’s a record.”

  “Yes.” Sanaa shifted from side to side. “Of course, we’re still secure here in the palace.” The high ground certainly helped that. “But the airport has been damaged. We can’t get any flights in or out of the country.”

  Aisha blinked. Why would that matter? Then it hit her—Nadim couldn’t leave. Embarrassed heat rushed across her cheeks, and she swallowed hard.

  “Does that mean—” She reached up and pushed her hair back from her face. It fell in a tumble of loose curls around her shoulders. “Is Sheikh Nadim still here, then?”

  “Yes. I’m told he considered taking one of the SUVs, but the roadways aren’t faring much better than the airport. He’s still in the palace.”

  “All right,” she answered lightly. Sanaa hadn’t been in the room for their argument the night before, obviously, and the last thing Aisha wanted to do was spill the details. The thought of saying them out loud didn’t thrill her. Besides, there were far more important things to do—especially if the storm was planning to stay. “Get everybody back in the situation room. Thirty minutes. We need to come up with a better plan.”

  Aisha jumped into the shower, then threw on fresh clothes, making it to the situation room in twenty-nine minutes exactly. It was already a hive of activity. Men and women clustered around the long table, heads bowed over tablets, and another clutch stood by the bank of screens at the back of the room.

  “Sultana.” Her liaison to the weather service rushed up to her side, face grave. “Have you been briefed?”

  The look on his face sent a chill through her. “I’m thinking I might need more information. Please, Obai. Tell me what I need to know.”

  He took a deep breath, and then he gave Aisha some of the worst news she’d heard since her father died.

  There were flash floods in all the major cities and, from what they could tell, in the smaller villages as well. Some had been taken out completely by mudslides. They’d deployed rescue forces, but some of them were being delayed by the continuing storm.

  “And...we’re already missing people.” Obai met her eyes. “There are reports of at least ten dead currently, and we expect that number to rise.”

  Aisha looked past him to the radar screens, which seemed even more apocalyptic than they had the night before. The threat wasn’t out over the sea, not anymore. It was on top of them. She shook off her own dread. This was no time to get caught up in fear. What they needed now was action.

  “All right.” The situation room fell silent around her, everyone waiting for her leadership. “We’re going to be moving upstairs, to a bigger space—the ballroom. It will give everyone more room to work. We’ll get our tech people putting computers and a screen bank there right away. What we need to focus on is preparation. Our people are doing all they can, but until the rain stops and the flood waters begin to recede, we can’t use our resources to the fullest extent.”

  Sanaa slipped out of the room, no doubt to direct the staff.

  Aisha kept going.

  “In the meantime, we need to do several things. We need to set up a place where people can check in to report themselves safe and to report missing family members. We need a staging area for equipment and supplies so they can go as soon as it’s safe. And we need at least two helicopters in the air as soon as they can fly. Let’s move up to the ballroom and coordinate there.”

  Everything was already in motion thanks to Sanaa when Aisha and her advisors got to the ballroom. More people arrived by the minute, ready to help, and Aisha repeated the instructions again. The more she said it, the more in control she felt. Good. That was good.

  Nadim appeared in the ballroom halfway through another impromptu meeting. She saw him out of the corner of her eye, and her heart lit up with relief. Strange, because she shouldn’t be relieved. She should be on edge. She shoved that feeling down. He stood, quietly watching, until she’d finished speaking, then came to her side.

  “I’ll help in any way I can.” He�
��d dressed down in a pair of slacks and a navy-blue sweatshirt. “You have my full support and the full support of the country of Raihan. You only need to tell me what you need, and I will personally see to getting it for you.”

  “Thank you.” Aisha wanted to throw herself into his arms. She stood even straighter. “My country needs all the help we can get. My officials will be in touch.”

  Then someone else stepped up near her elbow to ask a question, and Aisha was swept into emergency planning. The hours zoomed by. Time passed too quickly to keep up, then not quickly enough. The storm didn’t end, but they couldn’t send more people out yet. It was like a fall of dominos—one fell, then the next, then the whole line came down. Aisha worked with her people to set them right again. She made a thousand small decisions, then made them all over again when the situation shifted.

  It wasn’t until later in the day that Aisha finally had a moment to sit and breathe. Pride suffused her. Her people were the best in the world—if she hadn’t known it before, today proved it. They had come together in a mighty force. She tipped her head back against her seat and reflected.

  There he was, even in her reflection of the day.

  Because Nadim had been there every step of the way, hadn’t he? He’d quietly pitched in at a hundred different places over the course of the day. He’d ordered a room to be set up with food and water for all the staff to eat when they had a moment to take a break. He’d taken over updating maps with the most recent status reports. He’d sent a maid to get more extension cords for all the computers and phones and tablets. Her body ached to lean into him, to let him steady her, too. She wanted that from him. Oh, he’d been so good, all throughout the day. He hadn’t needed an ounce of the spotlight to himself. Not an ounce of attention. He’d just put his head down and helped, his calm attitude a balm for everyone’s frayed nerves.

  Aisha opened her eyes.

  The ballroom was still busy, but most of her people had taken a moment to regroup. They sat at tables or in front of their screens. A lull. The eye of the storm, she thought ruefully.

  But where was Nadim?

  Now that she finally had a free moment, he was nowhere to be found.

  And Karyme—she hadn’t seen the baby all day.

  Aisha called Sanaa to her side. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Let me know if anything happens, all right?”

  Sanaa patted her on the shoulder. “You’ve done a great job today. Take a moment to yourself. Everything is being handled.”

  It would be good to play with Karyme for a few minutes and release some of the stress of the day. Aisha looked forward to it while she made her way through the palace, stretching her wrists and arms. Rain still battered the windows, and worry tied her stomach in knots, but the baby was safe. There was a silver lining. Karyme was still safe in the palace. Aisha put a hand to her throat. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. What would they have done if she’d gone to one of the smaller villages, or one of the areas in the city that had been hammered with floods?

  Oh, what was she thinking? They’d get the baby out, just as they were working to save the other citizens of Kendah. Dwelling on what-ifs wouldn’t help.

  She turned the corner into Karyme’s room, and there he was.

  Nadim, lifting Karyme from the changing table. She felt a shock of desire, and then another current of pure longing. He was so handsome, muscled, strong. And the way he looked at Karyme, with a playful smile on his face and light in his eyes...she put a hand to her heart and felt its wild beat beneath her skin.

  Nadim glanced up at her, and heat flared in his eyes, there and gone so quickly it could have been a dream. He smoothed a hand over Karyme’s hair. Karyme giggled and rested her head against his shoulder, her hand seeking out his beard. Then she popped up again, squealing.

  “You’re funny.” Nadim touched Karyme’s nose. “You’re such a funny girl.” Then he met Aisha’s eyes. “She’s just up from her nap. There’s a bottle on the nightstand.”

  Aisha retrieved the bottle and when she turned around again, there he was, close by and smelling clean and fresh and manly. Nadim put Karyme into her arms. A relaxed, peaceful sensation swept over her, and she held the little girl close.

  “Time to eat, yes,” she told Karyme, all the aches and pains from the day gone, or at least she didn’t notice them anymore. Aisha settled into the rocking chair by the window. Karyme curled into her arm, looking up at her, and then her tiny face broke into a big smile, displaying her two teeth. Aisha returned the grin, gazing at her. What a gorgeous, lovely baby. Karyme reached up one chubby hand to Aisha’s cheek and squealed again. Did she even have a heart anymore? No, it was melted all over the floor. Aisha couldn’t take her eyes off Karyme for several moments, but then the baby reached for the bottle.

  “Oh, of course,” she told Karyme. “Here you go.” The two of them relaxed into the chair. Karyme was so happy in large part because Nadim took excellent care of her. Aisha thought of him standing there in the low light from the hall, swaying back and forth with the baby. He hadn’t looked put-upon or frazzled. He’d just been doing the right thing, the helpful thing, like he had all day today.

  She looked up to thank Nadim for all his help, but he was already gone.

  12

  The rain finally let up, but that didn’t mean the airport was magically repaired. If there was one thing Nadim wouldn’t do, it would be to waste his extra time in Kendah being useless. It didn’t matter at all to the people of Kendah that he’d been inconvenienced by the storm, and in fact it was the least important thing on his radar. As an added bonus, he got to spend more time with Karyme. For several days after the storm, Nadim threw himself into the humanitarian effort. The government of Kendah had mobilized in response to the destruction on the ground, and there was always something to do.

  He went wherever he was needed—the ballroom where they’d set up their command center, the depot just outside the palace where they were collecting supplies, anywhere. He and Aisha were like trains on parallel tracks. Her people always kept him updated on where she was, though it was never the same place he found himself working. And she never stopped. Over the course of those first days she visited shelters, joined food distribution lines in the center of the city, and even went out with a crew to do cleanup in the most heavily populated areas.

  The one time he did see her was at night, sharing supper.

  The first night, they’d eaten mostly in silence. The second, they’d shared stories from the day, both of them a little taken aback at how much work one storm had created. And now?

  Now he was sitting down across from her out on the terrace, a brilliant sunset painting the sky. Aisha looked up from her tablet and raised her eyebrows.

  “My count is twenty-five sandbags today,” he said by way of greeting. They’d started the running competition on day two, and every day he looked forward to exchanging numbers with her.

  Aisha waved this off. “Mine is twenty-nine.”

  Impressive. He was more than a little in awe of her. Aisha’s strength had shone nonstop through the entire crisis. But more than that, her determination. Her loyalty. And above all, her love for her people. The dark circles under her eyes told him that her dedication to them was keeping her running, no matter how exhausted she was.

  “You’re ahead for now,” he joked. “Watch out for me tomorrow.”

  “Ha. If you think you have any chance of beating me tomorrow, you’re a very silly man indeed.”

  He laughed, a heady warmth filling his chest. “If it’s impossible for me to win, then we need a new competition. Or we need to raise the stakes.”

  She arched an eyebrow, eyes twinkling. “How do you propose we do that?”

  The word propose hooked on something in his mind. All through this crisis, he hadn’t once seen Aisha’s horrible cousin Jamad. Not anywhere. Sure, maybe he had called in good wishes or something to that effect, but many people with ties to the royal family
had actually shown up to help. And Jamad wasn’t just another member of the royal family. He was next in the line of succession. He could be ruling the country in a matter of months, but he hadn’t bothered to show up for this?

  Maybe he should marry Aisha, just to ensure she remained the sultana. Just to keep that terrible man way from the throne. It would mean sacrificing his plans and his future for the cause.

  Could he do it?

  “Nadim?” He met Aisha’s eyes. She watched him suspiciously. “You have a thunderous look on your face. Are you really that dedicated to beating me?”

  “Maybe I am.” He kept the serious tone long enough to make her laugh, then laughed with her, his own questions still rattling around in his mind. Could he do it? Was it the right thing, after all? Sitting across from her at dinner, it seemed like the answer might be yes.

  That night Nadim dreamed about a river of mud.

  It had exploded over its banks and seeped through the whole small town, which he didn’t recognize. One wrong step and he lost his footing. There was mud up to his waist, then up to his chest. Nadim swam for his life. Where was the palace? The hulking building far in the distance wasn’t the right palace. Where were Aisha and the baby? From a great distance, he could hear Karyme crying. The mud sucked at his clothes, dragging him down. He had to get out. He had to get out.

  He woke up slowly, struggling to free himself from the clutches of the dream. Finally he was able to sit up and rub a hand over his eyes. What about Karyme, though? Had she actually been crying? He listened but heard nothing. He swung his legs out of bed and grabbed his robe, heart still pounding from the adrenaline of the dream. It couldn’t hurt to check on her anyway.

  In the nursery, he found Aisha in the corner, face warm in the glow of the small nightlight that sat on the baby’s dresser. She had tied her thick locks back, but a few pieces escaped here and there. They framed her big dark eyes and her face.