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In Arabic, he commanded, “If you do not save her, you will feel my wrath.”

The doctor would have smiled at this newlywed’s concern if it weren’t for the fact that he was one of the most powerful men in the country, if not the world, and he was obviously prepared to do whatever it took to ensure his wife’s comfort. And so the doctor simply nodded and said with a placating tone, “I don’t believe it is serious, but we must see to her immediately.”

“Of course.” Zayn watched her go, and then, with a strange emotion coursing through him, he approached Marina.

“What happened?” He asked in English, so that the small child would not understand their conversation.

Marina took his cue and told the whole story to him in English, and when she was finished, Zayn wasn’t sure if he was proud or furious. His wife should not have put her life in jeopardy like that. And yet, this tiny little creature was so pitiable; how could anyone have intended to hurt her? He crouched down on his haunches and switched to his native language.

“My wife tells me you are hungry. Would you let me organize some food for you?”

A solitary tear ran down the little girl’s face as she nodded at the prospect of a hot meal. He turned his attention to Marina. “Have something brought, immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” She spun on her heel to leave and Zayn wondered what to say to this little person.

“Your wife is very brave, your highness,” Maysan said quietly. “I think he might have killed me if she hadn’t been there.”

“This man will be punished for his actions, Maysan, but you shouldn’t have stolen.”

The words rung accusingly in his ears. Because he had stolen too. He’d stolen his wife, right out of her life. And who would punish him?

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Explain that to me again,” Zayn commanded wearily, rubbing his hand across his forehead. Through the glass panel door, he could see Julia, lying prone in the hospital bed. She simply looked to be asleep. The head wound had been covered with a gauze tape. She looked so peaceful. And very young. Guilt was rapidly becoming his constant companion, and he felt its familiar grip now.

“Your wife’s memory has been affected by the attack. The mind is a little understood machine, and it’s simply not possible to predict how permanent the memory loss will be.”

“What sort of things will she forget?”

The doctor grimaced apologetically. “Again, I excuse my uncertainty, but it’s impossible to say. Gene

rally, with injuries such as Her Highness’s, we tend to see the more recent past is most at risk. In most cases, the memories return, with the exception of a few fragments. Think of it as a bruise to the brain, if you’d like. Her brain, particularly her memories, are all scrambled. I am optimistic that, as her physical injury repairs itself, her memories will return.”

“But you cannot say that with any real certainty?” Zayn grilled him intently.

The doctor shook his head. “She is still your wife. All of what she was remains. There will just be some gaps in her knowledge.”

Zayn nodded mutely, but his whole body was charged with a fierce regret. Why hadn’t he simply agreed to take her into the city? He had been stupid and stubborn, for none of his work was so urgent that it couldn’t have waited a day.

“With regards to how to speak to her,” a different doctor interjected, “we suggest that you resist filling in too many gaps for patients with this type of condition. Of course, there will be some unavoidable pieces of information you will need to impart, but for the most part, the brain recovers best if it’s left to feel its own way.”

“Thank you,” Zayn said without looking away from Julia. It was a curt dismissal and the two medical professionals took it as such. The first, and more experienced of the two, paused for a moment to press a business card into Zayn’s palm.

“If you have any questions, this card contains my private telephone number and email address. You are welcome to contact me any time.”

Zayn looked at the card and nodded. Once the well-meaning doctor had left, Zayn pushed against the door and walked into his wife’s hospital room.

“Julia,” he said on a quiet groan. “What have you done?”

He sat beside her for at least two hours, and in that whole time, only the slight rise and fall of her chest gave any indication that she was still alive. Her face was perfectly still, her arms not even twitching. At some point in his vigil, a nurse called him from the room so that she could undertake some observations. Zayn waited just outside the room, staring at the linoleum floor, trying to make sense of his life.

“Zayn!” He looked up straight into Adina’s beautiful eyes.

“Adina,” he said with an anguished expression that made her heart squeeze in sympathy for her brother in law.

“How is she?”

“Good.” He swallowed to moisten his throat. How long had it been since he’d eaten or drunk anything? “They expect some temporary memory loss. Other than that, no long term damage.”


Tags: Clare Connelly Billionaire Romance