A Secret Birthright

chapter Four

Fareed hadn’t thought about Gwen’s child until this moment. Not in any terms other than his being hers.

He hadn’t had the presence of mind to formulate expectations, of the child, of his own reactions when he saw him. Had he had any mental faculties to devote to either, he would have thought he’d feel what he felt for any sick child in his care.

Now he knew anything he could have imagined would have been way off base.

She’d said Ryan didn’t have a father. He could almost believe that declaration literally now. It was as if he was hers, and hers alone. Even the discrepancy in age and gender, the almost-bald head, did nothing to dilute the reality that he was a pure part of her, body and soul.

But that absolute kinship and similarity between child and mother wasn’t why the sight of Ryan shook him to his core. Ryan, even though no more than nine or ten months old, was his own person. His effect wasn’t an echo of his mother’s, but all his own.

Ryan looked at him with eyes that were the same heavenly blue as his mother’s but reflecting his own nature and character, inquisitive, intrepid, enthusiastic. His dewy lips were rounded on his same breath-bating fascination as he probed him as if asking if he was a friend. Then he seemed to decide he was, his eyes crinkling and his lips spreading.

“Say hello to Dr. Aal Zaafer, Ryan.”

Fareed blinked as Gwen’s indulgent tone cascaded over his nerves, such a different melody from any he’d heard from her.

It had an equal effect on Ryan, who smiled delightedly up at her. Next moment, his every synapse fired as the child turned back to him, encompassed him in the same unbridled smile. Then he extended his arms to him.

He stared at the chubby hands closing and opening, beckoning for him to hurry and pick him up.

Gwen moved Ryan out of reach. “Darling, the adorable act works only on me and Rose.” Fareed’s eyes moved from Ryan’s crestfallen face to her apologetic one. “I didn’t think he would ask you for a ride. He doesn’t like to be held much, even by me. Too independent.”

She thought his hesitation meant he didn’t want to hold Ryan? She didn’t realize he was just…paralyzed? Everything inside him wanted to reach back for Ryan, but the urge was so strong, so…unknown that it overwhelmed him.

He had to correct that assumption. He couldn’t bear that she thought she’d imposed on him, couldn’t stand seeing Ryan’s chin quiver at being apparently rebuffed.

“I’m—” he cleared his throat “—I’m honored he thinks I’m worthy of being his ride. He probably fancies one from a higher altitude.”

A chuckle came from his left. His gaze moved with great effort from the captivating sight mother and son made to Rose.

She was still eyeing him with that almost-awed expression in her green eyes, but humor and shrewdness were taking over. “Ryan is a genius, and he knows a good proposition when he sees it. And you’re as good as it gets.”

A strangled gasp issued from Gwen. He didn’t need to look at her to know that her eyes were shooting daggers at Rose.

His lips spread in his widest smile in years. “Ms. Maher, I knew you were a discerning woman the moment I saw you.”

Rose let out a tinkling laugh. “Call me Rose, please. And oh, yes, I’ve been around long enough to know premium stuff when I see it, too.”

He almost felt the heat of mortification blasting off Gwen. And he loved it. Rose was saying the exact things to dissolve the tension, to set him free of the immobility that had struck him.

“I am honored you think I belong on the premium shelf, Rose, almost as much as I was to be considered a desirable ride by Ryan.” He shared another smile with the woman he already felt would be his ally, before he turned to Gwen and held out his arms.

His heart revved at what flared in her eyes. Momentary belief that his arms where inviting her into their depths. And a stifled urge to rush into them.

He let her know he’d seen it with a lingering glance before he transferred his smile to the baby who was already bobbing in her arms, demanding to be released. “Shall we, young sir?”

Ryan squealed his eagerness, reached back to him. Fareed noted his movements, already assessing his condition. He received him with as much care as he would a priceless statue that might shatter if he breathed hard. He looked down on the angelic face that was regarding him in such open wonder and something fierce again shuddered behind his breastbone.

Ya Ullah. That baby boy wielded magic as potent as his mother, and both their brands of spells had his name on them.

“You won’t dent him, you know?” Rose said.

He swept his gaze to her, his lips twisting. “It’s that clear I’m scared witless of holding him?”

Rose let out another good-natured laugh. “Your petrified expression did give me a clue or two that your experience in handling tiny humans is nonexistent.”

“You don’t have kids?”

Gwen’s soft question swept his gaze back to her. She looked…horrified that she’d asked it.

Satisfaction surged inside him. She needed to know his private details as much as he’d needed to know hers. Even though she was clearly kicking herself for asking, she was dying to know. If he had children, and therefore, a wife.

He’d thought his life wasn’t conducive to raising a family, that he didn’t have that innate drive to become a father. Now he knew the real reason why he’d never thought of having children. Because he’d never found a woman he wanted to have them with.

Now looking at her, holding her child in his arms, he did.

He looked down at Ryan, who was industriously trying to undo his shirt’s top buttons, before he looked back at her, giving her a glimpse of what he felt, if not too much of it. She wasn’t ready for the full power of his intentions.

Then he murmured, “I don’t.”

Her lashes fluttered down. But he felt it. Her relief.

Elation spread through him. “But I am an uncle many times over, through two of my sisters and many first cousins, to an assortment of boys and girls from ages one to fifteen.”

Gwen raised her eyes back to his, and…ya Ullah. Although still guarded and trying to obscure her feelings, the change that had come over them since she’d walked in here, the warmth she couldn’t fully neutralize, singed him. “I bet you’re their favorite uncle.”

He grinned at her. “You honor me with your willingness to waste money betting on me. But a waste it would be. ‘Favorite Uncle’ is a title unquestioningly reserved for Jawad, my second-eldest brother. We call him the Child Whisperer. All I can lay claim to is that I think they don’t detest me. I’ve been too preoccupied for the span of their lives to develop any real relationship with them. I would have liked to, but I have to admit, when I’m around them, I wonder how their parents put up with their demands and distraction and still function. I wonder how they made the decision to have them in the first place.”

Wisps of mischief sparked in her eyes. “So that’s why you kept asking me why I had Ryan? Because you think your nephews and nieces are a noisy, messy time-suck, and that an otherwise sane adult can have a child only by throwing away logic and disregarding all cautionary tales?”

He raised one eyebrow at her. “You know you’ve just called me Uncle Scrooge, don’t you?”

Rose burst out chuckling. “Busted.”

Gwen spluttered qualifications, shooting reproach at Rose, and he aborted her protests with a smile, showing her he was offense-proof, especially by anything coming from her. “Don’t take it back when you’re probably right. Interacting with children has never been one of my skills.”

The only child he’d loved having around and taking care of had been Hesham. But he’d been only eight years older. He hadn’t had any relevant experience with children outside his professional sphere.

She made an eloquent gesture indicating how he was holding Ryan with growing confidence, picking up various articles for his inspection. “If it has never been, then you’re capable of acquiring new skills on the fly.”

He’d always been uncomfortable receiving compliments, feeling the element of self-serving exaggeration in each. But her good opinion felt free of ulterior motives, and was clearly expressed against the dictates of her good sense. To him it felt…necessary.

He transferred his smile from her to Ryan. “It’s this little man who’s making me look like a quick study. He’s the one doing the driving here.”

Rose nodded. “Ryan does that. Just one look and a smile and the world is his to command. Very much like his mother.”

Gwen’s eyes darkened on something that gripped his heart in a tight fist. Something like…anguish. Ya Ullah, why?

Next second, he wanted to kick himself. How could he have forgotten the reason she was here? Ryan’s condition.

But he had forgotten, during the lifetime since she’d walked in and turned his life upside down all over again. But from holding Ryan, he had a firm idea what his condition was. It was time he did everything he could to put her mind to rest about it.

He adjusted his grip on Ryan, feeling as if he’d always held him, turned his face up with a finger beneath the dimpled chin that was a replica of Gwen’s. “Just so I don’t look like a total marionette, Ryan, how about we pretend I have a say here? How about you let me examine you now?”

“How about I leave you to your new game and go find me some food?” Rose said, clearly to give them privacy.

Fareed produced his cell phone, called Emad back. Emad appeared in under ten seconds, as if he’d been standing behind the door, which he probably had been. Eavesdropping?

He was resigned that Emad would go to any lengths to ascertain his safety. But what was there to worry about here? Getting ambushed by lethal doses of charisma and cuteness?

He gave him a mocking glance that Emad refused to rise to. “Will you please escort Rose to an early dinner, Emad? And do make it somewhere where they serve something better than the food simulations you got us from the hospital’s restaurant.”

He expected Emad to obey with his usual decorum, which never showed if he appreciated the chore or not. But wonder of wonders, after nodding to him with that maddening deference, he turned to Rose with interest—almost eagerness—sparking in his eyes. Fareed hadn’t seen anything like that in the man’s eyes since his late wife.

The gregarious Rose eyed him back with open appreciation and murmured to Gwen for all to hear, “So incredible things do come to those who wait, eh, sweetie?” She didn’t wait for Gwen’s reaction and turned to Fareed. “It’s been a treat meeting you, Sheikh Aal Zaafer. Take care of my lovelies, hmm?”

He bowed his head. “Fareed, please. And we’ll be meeting again. And you can count on it.”

She grinned at him, gave Gwen’s hand a bolstering squeeze, caressed Ryan’s cheek then gave his an affectionate pat before turning to Emad. “Shall we, Mr. Dark Knight?”

Emad gaped at her, clearly unable to believe this woman had just petted his prince. And that she’d called him that.

Then his eyes narrowed on a flare of challenge and approval as he gave her his arm. “By all means, Ms. Maher.”

“Can’t come up with a slogan for me, huh?” Rose beamed up at Emad. “But we have time. You’ll think of something.”

Before the door closed behind them, he heard Emad saying, “I don’t need time, Ms. Wild Rose.”

Fareed shook his head as the door closed behind them. He looked at Ryan, who was testing his stubble. “Can you believe this, Ryan? Emad teasing? Seems the power to change the laws of nature runs in your family.”

Ryan squeaked as if in agreement and Fareed turned his gaze to Gwen, offered her his hand.

She stared at it for moments, her lower lip caught in her teeth, the very sight of conflicted temptation.

Before he gave in and reached for her hand, she gave it to him. He almost groaned and barely kept from bringing her nestling into him. He would make her give in, fully, irreversibly. In good time.

First, he would see to her peace of mind.

He made it a pledge. “Now I’ll see to Ryan, Gwen.”

Gwen’s heart gave another boom before resuming its gallop.

But it wasn’t only hearing her name on his lips that caused this latest disturbance. It was that he pronounced it Gwaihn, the breathy sound as he prolonged it a scorching sigh, making an intimacy of it, a promise…of so many things she couldn’t even contemplate.

As if having her hand engulfed in his wasn’t enough. But she had herself to blame for this. She’d given her hand to him when she should have shown him she’d allow only formal interaction.

But she hadn’t been able to withhold it. He was offering her what she’d been starving for. Support, strength other than her own to draw on, an infinite well of it. And whatever the consequences, she hadn’t been able to stop from reaching for it.

He took them to the other end of the room, behind an opaque glass partition, to what turned out to be a fully fitted exam room.

“Gwen…” She started again. He cocked his head at her. “May I call you Gwen?”

She almost cried out, No, you may not. Please, don’t.

Out loud she reluctantly said, “If you like, Dr. Aal Zaafer.”

“I like, very much. And it’s Fareed.”

This was getting worse by the second. “Er…all right, Dr. Fareed…or, uh, do you prefer Sheikh?”

“Just Fareed.”

And wasn’t that the truth. He was unique, as his name proclaimed him to be. She’d looked up its meaning long before…

She shook her head, trying not to let the memories deluge her. “I can’t call you just…that.”

“Rose did, without a second’s hesitation.”

“Rose, as you noticed, is…is…”

“Blessedly unreserved. You should follow her example because I won’t be called anything else by you. We’re not only colleagues—” before she could contest that, he pressed on “—working in complementary fields, but I owe a lot of my most positive results to your breakthrough. The drug you developed has been my most reliable postoperative adjuvant therapy for years.”

She gaped at him, her heart flapping inside her chest with a mixture of disbelief and pride. “I didn’t realize…didn’t know…”

He gave her one of those earth-shaking smiles of his. “Now you do. And even though I’m getting impatient with your slowness in developing the other drug that should shrink tumors before surgery, I’ll forgive you on the strength of the first one. So we have far more than enough grounds for at least a first-name basis.”

His lips listed those acceptable reasons, but his eyes told her the truth. He wanted this intimacy, would have it.

But she needed formality to hide behind, to keep things in perspective. Otherwise…

No. No otherwise. If anyone was off-limits to her, it was Fareed Aal Zaafer. She’d better never forget that.

“How about that game? It’s super-easy and a lot of fun.”

The indulgent drawl, which he only produced while talking to Ryan, snatched her out of her latest plunge into turmoil.

She watched him lay Ryan down on the exam bed and hand him a reflex hammer and penlight to play with. He moved around, turning on machines, gathering instruments, all the time explaining what he was doing and naming everything and what they were for.

He was talking to Ryan because he must know she knew all that. And that he was explaining to a ten-month-old, without the least condescension, as if he believed it was never too early for Ryan to learn, as if he hoped Ryan would at least understand the consideration in his attitude, choked her up again.

When he returned to Ryan’s side, she asked, “Won’t you call your assistants?”

He cocked one eyebrow at her, teasing sparking the fiery brown of his eyes. “You think I can’t handle examining one highly cooperative tyke on my own?”

“Actually, I’m worried this is the calm before the storm. In previous visits, Ryan acted as if the doctors were torturing him.”

His eyebrows shot up before he looked at Ryan. “But you won’t do that to your obedient ride, will you? And I won’t make it such a cheerless endeavor that you’ll be driven to tears. You can even assist me, hold instruments, test and taste them to your heart’s content. Between us, we’ll make this a great game, Ryan.”

His thoughtfulness, then the way he said Rye-aan, Ryan’s similar-sounding Arabic name, lanced through her.

After receiving Ryan’s gleeful endorsement, he moved to start prepping him. She moved, too, bumped into him.

Feeling his steadying hands on her shoulders made her jump back. “I—I’ll just undress him.”

He gave her a tiny squeeze before setting her free and turning to Ryan. “As Ryan’s designated driver this afternoon, I think he’d want me to do the honors, right, Ryan?”

Sure enough, Ryan let out a squeal of agreement.

She stood back, every nerve buzzing as he undid Ryan’s snap-button jumpsuit with great care and dexterity, although it was clear he’d never performed the task before. Instead of fidgeting as he usually did, Ryan stunned her by chewing on a chart and offering Fareed every cooperation in stripping him down to his diapers.

“You’re an extremely well-cared-for little prince, eh, Ryan?”

Her heart gave another painful thud, which was stupid. It was just a figure of speech.

“Now, let’s start the game.”

She stood mesmerized, watching Fareed’s beautiful hands probe Ryan’s muscles for power, pushing and pulling on his feet and legs, making Ryan an eager participant. He turned to sensation, walking his fingers along nerve paths, before pouncing with tickles and eliciting Ryan’s shrieking giggles.

Next came recording muscle contraction and nerve conduction and he made Ryan help him fit in plugs and place leads over his body, all the time explaining everything. Ryan hung on his every word, his eyes rapt as he watched this larger-than-life entity who’d entered and filled his limited world. Fareed warned him that the tests were a bit uncomfortable, but would be over in no time, and Gwen braced herself for the end of the honeymoon.

But as he started the tests, instead of the dreaded wails, Ryan seemed to only notice Fareed’s banter, awarded him with a steady stream of corroborating gurgles.

She shouldn’t be surprised. Fareed’s darkest silk voice made her forget a world outside existed, or a past or a future.…

What was she thinking? She should only be thinking of running away once this exam ended, forgetting she’d ever seen him again.

She’d only sought him as a last resort, had hoped to slip in among his appointments undistinguished. But she’d ended up having his attention in its most undiluted form. Then it had gotten worse and he’d remembered her, had been treating her since as if he…

Her thoughts piled up as he dressed Ryan then caught her eye. “I’ll see those investigations now.”

She pounced on the briefcase, but he gently stopped her fumbling, took over. He studied the X-rays and MRIs briefly, set aside the reports without reading them before putting everything back in the briefcase. Then he turned to Ryan, who was demanding to be picked up—by him.

He complied at once. “So how was that? Fun as I promised, eh?” Ryan whooped an agreement. “But you know what? We had all this fun together, and I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Fareed.” He pointed to himself, said his name a few time.

Ryan’s eyes twinkled before he echoed triumphantly, “Aa-eed.”

“Ma azkaak men subbi!” Fareed exclaimed. “What a clever boy you are.” Ryan seemed delighted by Fareed’s approval, and continued to say Aa-eed over and over. Fareed guffawed. “We’ll work on the F and R later. I bet you’ll get it right in a couple of months, being a genius, like Rose said—” he turned to her “—and like your mother is.”

Gwen felt about to faint again.

It’s dreading his still-unvoiced verdict, she told herself.

But it wasn’t. She was terrified of having her worst fears validated, but that lightheadedness, as if she’d been hungry all her life, was the effect he had on her. Anything he did, every move and look and breath induced pure emotional and erotic tumult.…

What was happening to her? What was it about him that made her someone she didn’t know? Someone who couldn’t complete a thought without it turning into something…licentious?

He was guiding her back into the room, stopping by the desk for a computer tablet. At the sitting area, he set Ryan on the ground, gave him every safe article around to play with. Ryan instead made it clear he wanted to nap. She produced a blanket from the bag Rose had left behind and Fareed spread it in front of the couch, where Ryan crawled and promptly feel asleep facedown.

Once they sat down, Fareed said, “Tell me about Ryan, Gwen.”

Don’t call me that, she wanted to cry out. She needed to regain her balance and there was no hope she would when he kept calling her Gwaihn in that lion’s purr of his.

Instead she nodded her shaky assent. Over the next minutes, he obtained an exhaustive history of Ryan’s pre- and postnatal periods and developmental milestones, his fingers flying over the glossy tablet’s surface documenting it all.

Finally, he put the tablet down, turned to face her. “You do know he has spina bifida occulta?”

His question/declaration felt like a direct blow to her heart. She’d known, but had still been hoping against hope.…

Tears surged again as she nodded. “As a researcher of drugs targeting the nervous system, I knew the basics of the condition.” Incomplete closure of vertebrae around the spinal cord, which instead of hanging loose in the spinal canal was tethered to the bone, potentially causing varying degrees of nerve damage and disability. “I studied it extensively because I suspected Ryan of having it. But every pediatrician and neurologist told me not to worry, that ten percent of people have it and are asymptomatic, something they discover as adults during X-rays for unrelated complaints. I persisted, and a couple conceded that he has minor neurological deficits, which might or might not mean future disability but that there was no treatment anyway. But I couldn’t just wait until Ryan grew up and couldn’t walk or never developed bowel or urinary continence. I had to know for sure that there was nothing to be done, and only you…only your opinion will do…”

The sobs that had been banked broke loose.

He was down on his haunches in front of her in a blink, his hands squeezing her shoulders. “It was amazing that you noticed the mild weakness in his legs and clawing in his toes. He’s sitting and crawling, and with him far away from being toilet-trained and without previous experience with children, I’m beyond impressed that you discerned his condition even after the repeated dismissal of your worries. But I can excuse the doctors who examined him. It would take someone as extensively versed in the rare as I am to form an opinion on so irregular a condition.”

Her sobs had been subsiding gradually, at his soothing and under the urge to swamp him with questions.

The paramount one burst from her. “And you’ve formed one?”

He nodded. “You were absolutely right. Without surgery, he may develop increasing disability in lower limb motor function and bowel and urinary control.”

She sank her fingers into his sinew and muscle. “So there is a surgery? To prevent further damage? What about any that already exists? Is there damage? What about bowel and urinary problems? My sources say even when surgery successfully closes the defect and releases the cord, those usually never go away.…” She faltered on the last question, what she of all people knew was a long shot. “And if there’s a residual handicap, would my drug help?”

He rose, came down beside her. This time, she sank into his solicitude gratefully, only the last vestiges of her willpower stopping her from physically seeking it.

“Most, if not all, surgeons wouldn’t touch a case like Ryan’s. They’d say their findings are too ephemeral to warrant a surgery that wouldn’t offer much, if any, improvement. But I say different.”

Hope surged so hard inside her that she choked with its agonizing expansion. “You—you mean you’re not telling me to give up?”

He shook his head. “Of course, any surgery comes with risks.” The world darkened again. He caught her hand, squeezed it. “I have to mention risks because it’s unethical to promise you a risk-free procedure, not because I expect problems. But I can and do promise you and Ryan the best result possible.”

Her tears faltered. “Y-you mean you want to operate on him?”

He nodded. “He’ll be safe with me, Gwen.”

She stifled another heart-wrenching sob. Fareed’s arm slid around her. “And yes, your drug will regenerate the nerve damage. I know it’s not approved for use on children, but because I believed the delay in approval was built on bureaucracy and not medical facts, I have obtained permission from the region’s drug administration under my personal responsibility and have used it on even younger patients than Ryan with adjusted doses and certain precautions to astonishing results. Together, we’ll cure Ryan, Gwen.”

And she had to ask the rest, everything, now, before this turned out to be a deranged dream, before she fainted again. “How long will it take? The surgery? The recuperation? How soon can he have it? How much will it all cost?”

“The surgery itself is from four to six hours, and the recuperation is from four to six weeks. He can have it as soon as I prepare everything. And it won’t cost a thing.”

That stopped the churning world. Her tears. Her heart.

“You must have misunderstood,” she finally whispered. “I’m not here seeking charity. I didn’t even think of asking you to perform the surgery, only hoped you’d write me a report stating that it’s a surgical case, so no surgeon could tell me it isn’t.”

He pursed his lips. “First, there’s no charity involved—”

She struggled to detach herself from the circle of his support. “Of course there is. You’re here performing pro bono surgeries. But I can pay. Just tell me how much, and I will.”

“You will pay? Not that it’s an issue here, but why wouldn’t your insurance cover your child’s medical expenses?”

She should be more careful what she said. He noticed everything. Now she had to satisfy him with an explanation or he’d corner her with demands for more information she couldn’t give. “I insisted on costly investigations the doctors said weren’t needed, moving me to an unfavorable insurance category, so the coverage would be only partial now. But that doesn’t matter. I’m very well paid and I have a lot of money.”

He leveled patient eyes on her. “Of course you are and you do. And there is still no cost involved.”

She shook her head. “I can’t accept a waiver of your fee. And then there are many other expenses besides that.”

His lips quirked, teasing, indulgent. “First, I’m a big boy, if you haven’t noticed, and I can waive my fee if I want to, which I mostly do. My ‘reputation’ isn’t totally hype, you know. Second, there won’t be any other expenses back home.”

She gaped at him. For a full minute.

She finally heard a strangled echo. “Back home?”

He rose to his feet with a smile. “Yes. You, Ryan and Rose are coming with me to Jizaan.”