FARHAN STOOD IN the air traffic control tower at Huban International, and watched the smaller of the two royal jets taxi to the end of the runway. As it turned its nose into the wind, preparing for takeoff, his stomach twisted, his chest aching with a sensation he didn’t want to name.
Sara was onboard, leaving. Going back to where she belonged, he told himself for the millionth time.
For expediency’s sake, they’d told everyone she had a family emergency, which necessitated her returning to Canada.
“It’ll be easier right now, what with all the preparations you’re all doing in case the cyclone comes close,” she said, her voice distant, as though she was already gone. “Once I’m settled, you can arrange for Grandfather and Coconut to join me.”
Mr. Raj was the one person she’d been honest with. At least, Farhan assumed she’d been honest with her grandfather, since he’d agreed to go to Canada, but he hadn’t been privy to the conversation. All he knew was Mr. Raj, while still as polite as before, had given him what could only be described as sorrowful looks the last time they’d met. But he hadn’t expressed an opinion, or offered any advice, for which Farhan was immensely grateful.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, but Farhan ignored it, all his attention on the jet. He distantly heard the pilot ask for clearance, the familiar call sign making him clench his teeth with the effort not to tell the controller to deny them the right to take off.
Letting her go was the right thing to do. Why, then, did it feel so wrong?
Then, before it seemed he even had time to blink, the jet was airborne, banking, turning northwest.
He watched it until it was out of sight, frozen inside, thankfully numb.
As he finally forced his feet to move his phone buzzed again, and this time he answered.
“Yes, Maazin?”
“Father wants to see us both in his office. Have you left the airport yet?”
“On my way out now. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Did Sara get off okay?”
Just hearing her name threatened to break him, but he simply said, “Yes. See you at the palace.”
They’d all been working flat out, trying to make sure everything in the emergency management plan was implemented, while Blandine waltzed back and forth in the Indian Ocean like a deadly flirt. Each time they thought they were clear, she sashayed south again, and they were back on alert. No doubt Uttam wanted an update on their preparedness, but Farhan wasn’t in a position to add much to any discussions.
Oh, he’d done his part. Flying to Agung to take supplies and make sure the hospital there was following protocols, as well as overseeing the plan to evacuate people from some of the outlying clinics if necessary. But it had all been done on autopilot, his entire brain taken up with thoughts of Sara leaving.
Now, settling back in the car, he tried to get up to speed on what had been happening elsewhere, but couldn’t concentrate on the emails Maazin and others had sent. Instead, his mind insisted on taking him back through every moment of the time with Sara, from the jolt of attraction he’d felt that first night on her doorstep, to the moment she’d said goodbye.
“Be well, Farhan. Be happy.” He’d wanted to answer, but his throat wouldn’t work. It had been the expression in her eyes that had rendered him mute. One he recognized, but, even after all they’d shared, still didn’t want to name.
He started as Kavan shut off the SUV, realizing they were already at the palace, although he couldn’t remember a moment of the drive.
Get yourself together.
He needed to be on his toes to deal with his father right now.
The meeting went fairly quickly, with Maazin, thankfully, carrying most of the load, but when they rose at the end, Uttam said, “Farhan, a word.”
Suppressing a sigh, he sank back down into the chair, was surprised when his father dismissed his aide, who usually stayed at his side in all meetings. Uttam fussed with some papers on his desk for a moment, leaving Farhan to wonder what, exactly, was going on.
When the door closed behind the others, his father finally turned his attention to Farhan.
“When is Sara coming back?”
He should have known it would be what was on his father’s mind. It was the first time Farhan was glad his father’s vision was so poor, so he couldn’t see how the question caused his son to flinch.
“When she’s settled things in Canada, sir.”
“It was a bad time for her to leave, right in the middle of the preparations for the cyclone.”
Farhan felt his hackles rise, but he kept his voice level, as he replied, “Sara did her part before she left. She ended up taking charge of the patient audit, and did a great job of it.”
Uttam waved a hand. “I know.” Then he shifted in his chair, as though uncomfortable, before continuing, “I would feel better knowing she was here to keep an eye on you, if the storm comes.”
The words rocked Farhan back in his chair, literally. Then he understood. His father worried about losing another heir.
“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll be careful.”
Uttam shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if you are, Farhan. It won’t stop me worrying about you, and your brother. Both of you have the drive to serve others, and would put yourselves in danger to do it, no matter the cost. It is a good attribute, and one of the many reasons I’m proud of you, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain.”
Too shocked to reply, Farhan stared across at his father, who had his chin tipped up and was looking down his nose, clearly uncomfortable with his unaccustomed display of emotion.
“Sara reminded me that just because I missed opportunities to speak or offer praise before, it doesn’t mean new opportunities wouldn’t arise. I felt this was one I shouldn’t let pass. I grew up in a different era, Farhan. One where men didn’t express how they felt, and were expected to keep everything locked inside. It became habitual for me, but I’m glad to know you don’t have to follow suit. It will make you a better husband and father than I have been.”
It was like looking in a mirror, but seeing his own reflection clearly for the first time, hearing a truth only his father, his mirror image, could tell.
Emotion wasn’t the enemy. Locking it away was.
Sara too had tried to tell him that he didn’t have to follow his father’s lead, but he hadn’t listened, too intent on holding onto past hurts, so as not to experience them again. And, in the process, he’d lost the best gift life could have given him.
Sara.
He rose, then hesitated. Found the words, then said them. “Thank you, Father. This means more to me than you could know.”
Sara had the private lounge in Dubai International Airport to herself, and was glad of it. A steward fussed over her, until she told him, kindly but firmly, that she had all she needed.
What a lie.
What she needed was to get home to Canada, and get on with rebuilding her life. The delay—something about the plane needing a small repair—wasn’t helping at all.
They were supposed to have flown straight on to London, where she would overnight, and then continue the journey the following day. The unexpected stop would be frustrating if she weren’t so numb.
Even now, five hours into the trip, she couldn’t believe she’d actually left Farhan, forever. Yet it was the right thing to do, for both of them. Hopefully one day he would wake up and realize he was so much more, so much better than he gave himself credit for. That he had more to offer than just being a surgeon, or a prince, or even a king, and it was within his capabilities to do all of them well, as well as being a wonderful husband and father.
As for her? She’d survive, but she was leaving love behind. Not because it was too painful, but because there would never be anyone like Farhan in her life again. He was one of a kind, and all she wanted. No one else would ever compare.
She closed her eyes, leaning her head back, ineffably weary, homesick for the place she’d just left her heart in.
“Is this seat taken?”
Eyes flying open, she spun in her seat, unable to believe what her ears were telling her.
But it was true. Farhan Alaoui, Crown Prince of Kalyana, was lowering himself into the seat beside her.
“What are you doing here?”
He hesitated before answering, and then his chin tipped up, and he said, “I came to Dubai to tell my wife that I have been the biggest fool that ever was. That I love her with all my heart, and I’m hoping she’ll come home with me, so I can prove to her, every day and every night, that I understand now.”
“U-understand? Understand what, Farhan?”
“That running from my emotions, or locking them away, doesn’t mean I don’t have them. That fleeing from pain doesn’t mean it won’t catch up. That loving you isn’t something to fear, but something to embrace, and be grateful and thankful for.
“And I understand, too, how I hurt you when I treated our relationship as though it were still a business deal, despite knowing it was far more. But I didn’t want you to suffer, financially, for my own cowardice.”
He reached for her hand, curved his fingers around hers, the touch like a balm to her battered, sorrowful soul, as he continued, “And I am grateful, and thankful for you, Sara. Perhaps you don’t love me, but I know without a doubt you care about me, and if that’s all you want to give, I will gladly take it.”
Amazed, she shook her head.
“But you must know I love you, Farhan. That I didn’t argue when you said I should leave because I couldn’t settle for the crumbs of your affection, no matter how nicely you treated me or how good we were together in bed.”
His fingers tightened on hers almost painfully, and his eyes flashed with that dark fire she loved so much. “Crumbs? You have my whole heart, beautiful. My soul. You’re my everything. I should have told you how devastated I was when I heard you weren’t pregnant; how much I’d hoped and prayed you were, so you would have to stay with me. If I have the honor of being father to your children, no one in the world would be happier than I.”
Heart pounding, she stared at him, trying to decide whether he meant it or not.
But it was there, in his eyes, the tense set of his gorgeous mouth, even that arrogant tilt of his chin, letting her know it was real.
“Oh, Farhan.”
And he must have heard the answer in her voice, as he reached over the arms of their club chairs to pull her close.
“Tell me you love me again, beautiful,” he whispered into her ear. “I need to hear it again.”
So she told him, and, when pressed, promised to tell him every day for the rest of their lives.
For an instant time seemed to slow, allowing her to commit the moment to memory, like a snapshot. And in that single frame, safe once more in Farhan’s arms, life truly was perfect.
“My Princess,” he murmured. “My love, forever.”
And Sara knew, like everything Farhan said, it was the truth.
The Surgeon Prince was hers, for always.
Look out for the next story in the Cinderellas to Royal Brides duet
Royal Doc’s Secret Heir
by Amy Ruttan
And if you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Ann McIntosh
The Surgeon’s One Night to Forever
The Nurse’s Pregnancy Miracle
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Royal Doc’s Secret Heir by Amy Ruttan.
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