Sheikh Surgeon Claims His Bride. Josie Metcalfe

in the healing process.

      Meanwhile, Keren had flipped open the file and when the first thing Emily saw was a set of photographs of a solemn-eyed child cradling her twisted arm with a hopeless expression on her face, she could understand exactly why her new boss had been determined to help.

      ‘Can you show Ameera in?’ she asked while she scanned the notes as quickly as she could, looking for any problems that might have been noted at the time of the operation. There was nothing untoward—in fact, this was the sort of simple problem that should never have necessitated a child having to travel to a strange country for treatment…unless her own was so impoverished that even the most basic facilities were unavailable.

      The little girl who came bouncing in through the door looked nothing like the sad-eyed waif in the photos, and the young woman who accompanied her was having trouble keeping up with her, especially as she was heavily pregnant.

      ‘This is Mrs Khan,’ Keren began the introductions. ‘And this is Dr Emily Livingston, who is working with Mr Khalil. She would love to see how strong and straight your arm is, Ameera.’

      The interpreter had slipped into the room almost unseen behind the woman and child and, as Keren spoke, translated her words into a mixture of incomprehensible sounds that sounded almost like spoken music.

      Without any hesitation, the little girl tugged her sleeve up to reveal a scar so neat that, in time, it would probably become almost unnoticeable.

      It didn’t take long for Emily to gain her trust, especially when she discovered that the youngster was ticklish, and it was very satisfying to note that every test she performed confirmed that the prognosis was excellent.

      ‘It is good, yes?’ her mother asked, clearly worried about her daughter.

      ‘Yes. It is good,’ Emily confirmed with a broad smile. The flaking skin that was the result of the time spent in a cast would soon disappear, and the way Ameera eagerly completed every task Emily had set her spoke well for her regaining her full range of motion in time, even if structured physiotherapy wouldn’t be available once she returned to her own country. ‘I just wish I could take another photo to put in the file.’

      ‘But you can!’ Keren exclaimed as she hurried across to a cupboard at the other side of the room. ‘I’m sorry, but I completely forgot to give you the camera.’

      ‘Ah!’ the little girl exclaimed when she saw what Keren was fetching. She obviously knew what was expected of her and pulled her sleeve up again, this time proudly showing off her straight arm with a broad smile.

      ‘Thank you so much,’ her mother said, her dark eyes glittering with the threat of happy tears. ‘Everybody. Thank you so much for Ameera arm.’

      ‘You’d better go away before you make us all cry,’ Keren said, and when the interpreter translated what she’d said, everybody gave a watery laugh.

      ‘It’s a good job I didn’t have time to put any mascara on after my shower,’ Emily muttered wryly after the door closed behind them. ‘If they’re all going to be like that one, I’d have ended up with a bad case of panda eyes.’

      ‘Maid, that’s why mine is waterproof,’ Keren confided. ‘If it isn’t the successes like Ameera tugging at your heartstrings when you see them put right, it’s the parents arriving with their kids, terrified that no one’s going to be able to do anything to help.’

      Emily suggested that she show the next patient in, suddenly conscious that being close to Beabea wasn’t the only reason why she wanted Zayed Khalil to confirm her position on his team.

      In little more than half a day she’d been allowed to assist in an operation that would change a tiny child’s life expectation and had seen a little girl’s hopeless expression change to one filled with the joys of being alive. And neither would have been possible without the unit to which she was now attached, and the man whose determination had driven its inception.