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Isobel’s mind began to race. He could go to a clinic, yes—but even the most discreet of clinics could never be relied on to be that discreet, could they? Especially when they were dealing with billionaire patients who were being hunted by the tabloids. Tariq didn’t need expensive clinics where people would no doubt seek to exploit his wealth and influence. He needed that thing which always seemed to elude him.
Peace.
She thought about the strange flash of vulnerability she’d seen on his face and an idea began to form in her mind.
‘I have a little cottage in the countryside,’ she said slowly, looking straight into a pair of black and disbelieving eyes. ‘You could come and stay there for a week, if you like. My mother used to be a nurse, and I picked up some basic first aid from her. I could keep my eye on you, Tariq.’
CHAPTER TWO
‘WHERE THE HELL are you going, Izzy?’
For a moment Isobel didn’t answer Tariq’s growled question as she turned the small car into a narrow country lane edged with budding hedgerows. Why couldn’t he just settle down and relax—and be grateful she’d managed to get him out of the hospital? Maybe even sit back and appreciate the beauty of the spring day instead of haranguing her all the time?
It wasn’t until she was bowling along at a steady pace that she risked a quick glance and saw the still-dreadful pallor of his face, which showed no signs of shifting. He was in pain, she reminded herself—and besides, he was a man who rarely expressed gratitude.
Already she’d had to bite back her words several times that morning. They had left by a staff exit at the back of the hospital, and although he had initially refused to travel in a wheelchair she had persuaded him that it would help elude any waiting press. Which of course, it had. The photographers were looking for the muscular stride of a powerful sheikh—not a man being pushed along by a woman. She remembered her mother telling her that nobody ever looked at people in wheelchairs—how society was often too busy to care about those who were not able-bodied. And it seemed that her mother was right.
‘You know very well where I’m going,’ she answered calmly. ‘To my cottage in the country, where you are going to recuperate after your crash. That was the agreement we made with the doctor before he would agree to discharge you. Remember?’
He made a small sound of displeasure beneath his breath. His head was throbbing, his throat felt as dry as parchment, and now Izzy was being infuriatingly stubborn. ‘That’s the doctor you were flirting with so outrageously?’ he questioned coolly.
Isobel’s eyes narrowed as she acknowledged her boss’s accusation. In truth, she’d been so worried about him that she’d barely given a thought to the crinkly-eyed consultant. But even if she had fallen in love at first sight and decided to slip the doctor her phone number—well, it was none of Tariq’s business. Wasn’t she doing enough for him already, without him attempting to police her private life for her?
‘And what if I was?’ she retorted.
He shrugged. ‘I would have thought that extremely unprofessional behaviour on his part.’
‘I hardly think that you’re in any position to pass judgement on flirting,’ she murmured.
Tariq drummed his fingers against one tense thigh. It was not the response he’d been expecting. A firm assertion that the doctor had been wasting his time would have been infinitely more desirable. Isobel was resolutely single, and that was the way he liked it. It meant that she could devote herself to his needs and be there whenever he wanted her.
‘I thought you only told him all that stuff about taking me to your cottage to get him off my back,’ he objected.
‘But that would have been dishonest.’
‘Do you always have to be so damned moral?’
‘One of us has to have morals.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Is that supposed to be a criticism?’
‘No, Tariq,’ she answered calmly. ‘It’s merely an observation.’
He stared at her set profile and inexplicably began to notice the way the pale spring sunshine was picking out the lights in her hair, turning it a glowing shade of amber. Had the doctor also noticed its subtle fire? he wondered. Would that explain his behaviour? ‘I don’t know why you’re dragging me out to the back of beyond,’ he said, ‘when I can rest perfectly well at home.’
‘In central London?’ She gave a dry laugh. ‘With the press baying at your door like hounds and all your ex-girlfriends lining up to offer to come and mop your brow for you? I don’t think so. You’ll be much safer at my cottage. Anyway, it’s a done deal. I’ve informed the office that you’ll be incommunicado for a week, and that all calls are to come through me. Fiona in the PR office is perfectly capable of running things until we get
back. I’ve had your housekeeper pack a week’s worth of clothes, which are being couriered down. And I haven’t told anybody about your exact whereabouts.’
‘My brother—’
‘Except for your brother,’ she concurred, remembering the brief conversation she’d had earlier that day with the ruler of Khayarzah. ‘I telephoned the palace and spoke to the King myself—told him that you’re on the mend but that you needed to recuperate. He wanted you flown to Khayarzah, but I said that you would be fine with me.’ She shot him a glance. ‘That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?’
‘I suppose so,’ he answered moodily, but as usual she had done exactly the right thing. The last thing he needed was the formality of palace life—with all the strictures that came with it. He’d done his level best to escape from the attendant attention which came with being the brother of the King—a role which had been thrust on him when his brother had suddenly inherited the crown. A role which had threatened his freedom—something he had always guarded jealously. Because wasn’t his freedom the only good thing to have emerged from the terrible isolation of his childhood?
He fixed her with a cool and curious stare. ‘You seem to have it all worked out, Izzy.’
‘Well, that’s what you pay me for.’ She glanced in the driving mirror and let a speedy white van overtake them before starting to speak again. ‘Do you want to tell me what happened? About why one of the most careful drivers I know should crash his car?’
