Hello everyone, I'm so glad we could stick to our weekly schedule and as promised, you get to see Bella for the first time... YAAAYYYYY

Thanks to our whole team; Deb, Mayar, Katrina, Ang and our Beta Colleen ... we love you girls so very very much

Disclaimer: We really wish we owned Edward and man I wish I had my own Carlisle.. we don't .. but MSFward and Iraqella are ours ;)

Enjoy :)

Chapter 3

(The Veiled Beauty)

Baghdad, Iraq

May 23rd 2004

After two weeks of staying in Baghdad, I have somehow adapted to a routine. I wake up at 7am every morning, shower and dress for the day in the lightest clothes possible, and then leave my room to meet Peter for breakfast. Some days Ahmed or Tony join us; Tony more so, since he's staying in the same hotel and Ahmed is staying with his parents. Sometimes both of them join us, which is great since I really enjoy their company.

I was shocked to learn that in Iraqi families, kids don't move out of the family home as soon as they can. That concept is unacceptable for them. They live with their parents, whether they are male or female, until they get married and have a family of their own, and that's the only reason to move out. I was told it's the same way almost everywhere in the Middle East.

Ahmed also surprised me when he told me his age and that he'd just graduated from med school a couple of months ago, as he seems very mature for his age. He joined the MSF fresh out of college despite his parents' disapproval. Not only is being an Iraqi doctor dangerous, but in the Iraqi society, associating with foreigners, especially the Americans, is even more dangerous and comparable to a social taboo.

While Ahmed is serious, Tony is hilarious. He's the kind of person who lights up everywhere he is. We could be sitting and discussing some very heartbreaking cases, or talking about the war and politics, and while some disagreements flare and sometimes tension fills the room, Tony's the one who best defuses the situation and makes everyone laugh.

After breakfast, depending on the weather, we walk or drive to the hospital together. – change into our scrubs or white coats, and begin our rounds and take in new cases.

To say I am overwhelmed with work would be a huge ass understatement. It never ends. But I expected that, which makes it somewhat easier. I was always a hard worker, and it was easy to lose myself in my work. I get that from my father.

Dr. Carlisle Cullen is a very well known doctor in Chicago. I can't deny that my father is the main reason I became a doctor. I have always admired him and looked up to him. Of course, after I got over the initial resentment for not being there for my games and plays, we grew closer than ever.

When we're not swamped with cases - which isn't often - the team tries to gather for lunch as much as we can, apart from Tariq who's always sitting with the Iraqi staff. It is nice to get to know them all; Nickola is very sweet, Zena is a delight to talk to and Mahmoud is very friendly and well-spoken. We catch glimpses of Dr. Garrett every now and then, but not much. Although what we're seeing proves that he's such a wonderful person, not just a doctor. He dedicates twenty-four hours a day to the Iraqi people and anyone in need. I'm really glad I found another person to look up to, other than my father.

Soon after lunch, I'm swamped with work again and barely blink before my shift ends.

I was surprised to find out that the weekend in Iraq was Friday and Saturday. Sunday is the beginning of the week, Peter forgot to mention that.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

It's the beginning of my third week in Baghdad and while I'm taking a break, drinking coffee at the hospital lobby, I hear a commotion from the entrance. When I go to check what's wrong, I'm met with the most interesting creature I have ever seen.

She's short and small, just a bit taller than five feet, tops. She has very fair skin peeking out of the veil that is loosely wrapped around her hair, with her side bangs and the beginning of her hair showing. It looks kind of different from most of the other veiled girls I've seen, like Zena, but I think it's just lovely on her. It brings some sort of mystery to her. What's even more captivating than her face, is how flushed and lovely she looks screaming in Arabic at an over six feet tall Iraqi guard with no fear at all, despite the fact that a mere huff from him could send her flying. I will be damned if that guard even thinks about hurting her though. Even if I didn't find her attractive, I wouldn't stand by, while any woman is being harmed, that's how I was raised.

I go back to checking her out. The mystery girl is wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt which hangs down to her knees. Typical clothes of a veiled Iraqi girl, but on her it's much more alluring as they're hugging her curves perfectly. I can't help but imagine how she'd look without all those layers, I bet she'll be as flushed other places too, at least I hope so. All I can think about is this delicate face has to be attached to a similarly delicate, soft as rose petal, body.

One of the foreign guard's thoughts have obviously gone the same way as mine, because he talks in what he obviously hopes is a quiet tone to his colleague, "This is not her first time here, nor her first argument with the guards, but she's a hot little thing, isn't she. I bet she's a tiger in bed."

I cringe, because thinking something and speaking it aloud is a totally different thing.

The girl must have super hearing because she turns to that guard, "What did you just say?"

Both me and the guard freeze, she speaks fluent English. No accent, nothing. I instantly think she must have been raised in an English speaking country, like Zena.

The guard looks like a deer caught in headlights for a second.

"Yes, she speaks English. I'm sorry to ruin your fun, asshole," she growls at him.

"Now, now. Watch it young lady…."

"Oh, you want ME to watch it, now that's funny…" When she looks like she's going to say more, probably more insulting comments that will not help their situation, I step forward to interfere and try to defuse the situation.

"Guard, I think the best solution in this situation, is that you apologize to the young lady here," I say in a calm but authoritative voice.

The second she hears my voice, her eyes snap up to me and narrow dangerously. If I was fascinated before by her face and body, it is nothingcompared to how I feel when she fixed those hazel brown eyes on me.

The fire in her eyes is mesmerizing. I am so caught in her spell and cannot look away. To me, everything disappears in the background at that moment and I just stare at what I believe to be the widest and most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, framed by the thickest, longest black eyelashes encased in thick black eyeliner that makes her eyes look even more beautiful and full of mystery. They hold such beauty, especially when they have that fire that was at the moment directed at me. The daggers she's shooting with her eyes confuse me, which makes me almost miss the guard's grumbling beside me, so I clear my throat and turn back to him.

"Well? And do not think your supervisor and Dr. Garret will not be hearing about this, because I assure you, they both will."

"My apologies, Miss," the guard grumbles quietly.

"Whatever," the veiled beauty replies, rolling her eyes.

As she moves to walk away we hear Dr. Garret's voice. "Isabella!" Dr. Garret rushes and shakes her hand.

Isabella! That doesn't sound like an Arabic name, but she speaks Arabic and dresses like Iraqi girls. Her skin might be fairer than most girls I've seen in Iraq, but still, lots of them have fair skin.

"Jackleen called and said you were coming today. I'm very glad you could make it," Dr. Garrett says with an apparent French accent.

"Of course, Dr Garret, you know you can call me whenever you need any help. I'll gladly come anytime, even when it's not any of my cases involved."

She smiles warmly at him and I just stand there like an idiot, trying to pick my jaw off the floor. I can't hide my utter shock at the amazing change in her face from just two minutes ago. The scowl on her lovely face, and the fire from her eyes, are completely gone and replaced with warmth and a megawatt smile she grants Dr. Garrett, which makes her whole face light up.

I frown. Why didn't she smile at me like that when I helped her? Not that that's the reason I did it, but she didn't even say thank you. When I think about it, she looked as if she was even pissed at me! How rude. My frown turns to a scowl. I need to figure out what is wrong with that girl.

And what did she mean by her cases? Is she a doctor too?

I'm distracted by all those questions, so I miss seeing them both leaving while talking to each other. I go to follow them but one of the nurses calls me, my next case is in the exam room waiting.

~~~~(((*TWWM*)))~~~~

I am distracted all day with images of the veiled beauty, Isabella. Examining patients is the only time I'm not thinking about her. It baffles me, the anger she directed towards me with the way she looked at me. It's not like she's the only girl who hasn't fallen to my feet or anything, but usually when girls are that pissed at me, they have reasons.

It's almost lunch time when I'm wandering the aisles looking for signs of her and there she is, talking to Zena, like they are old time friends.

I stand there staring at her, studying her face while they talk. They look like they're in deep discussion. Zena nods her head at Isabella then takes her hand. Suddenly, Isabella turns her head and catches me staring. I lower my face to the file in my hand instantly, feeling like a child who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I huff, feeling ridiculous; I seriously need to keep it cool. It's just a girl after all.

"Hey, Edward." I lift my head to look at Zena's lovely face. "I want to introduce you to someone." She ushers me over with her hand.

I swallow and go to them.

"Bella, this is Dr. Edward Cullen. He's our pediatrician. Edward, this is Isabella Salem , but we all call her Bella. She will be helping you guys with the translation for the time being but she actually works for Al-Amal charity organization."

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm sorry about earlier." Idiot, why are you apologizing? Shit. I smile down at her, trying to hide the nervous mess that I am. What is wrong with me, this is not high school, I'm a grown man.

"Likewise, and it's not your fault." She doesn't even return my smile, but at least she is not glaring anymore.

"Wait, you two have met each other already? What happened earlier?" Zena is curious.

I turn to tell her the story but Isabella, or Bella, beats me to it.

"Oh it's nothing. One of the guards was being an idiot at usual," She rolls her eyes, "And Doctor Cullen here came to my rescue. I do not know what would've happened to me, if it weren't for him." She turns to me with the fakest smile ever known to mankind and the fire is back in her eyes. My stomach drops. I'd take the bored look in her eyes over this any day. Why is she acting like a bitch all of a sudden?

I'm sweating under her scrutinizing stare. I didn't do anything wrong. Why does she make me feel like I did her wrong?

Zena is oblivious to what's happening around her; she believes Isabella means what she's saying so she laughs "Oh, how nice of him then?" She smiles sweetly at me. The angel. I smile back.

"Okay Bella, you should join us for lunch. That way you will get to know the whole team."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can. I should leave now. I need to get back to the organization. Maybe some other time?"

Zena looks disappointed. "Aw, okay then. But you'll be back tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, tomorrow morning." She smiles at Zena and kisses her on both cheeks while saying her good byes. She turns to me at the last second and nods her head my way and leaves.

What the hell?

I look after her departing form, searching my brain for what I could have possibly done to piss her off, when Zena's voice interrupts my thoughts,

"She's lovely, isn't she? She's seriously one of the sweetest people I have ever met."

I turn my head to look at her and the incredulous look on my face must have shocked her.

"What?"

"Were you not here when this conversation happened?"

She laughs, "Oh she just needs time to warm up to new people, but believe me, once she gets to know you and you her, you will see how lovely she is."

I highly doubt that, but I don't tell Zena. It seems like they are close friends and I don't want to offend her in anyway, for insulting her rude bitch of a friend.

We part ways after that. Zena asked me to join her for lunch but I lost all my appetite and the Veiled Beauty Bitch - as I call her in my head now- is still dominating my every thought.

I'm trying to think of ways to find out more information about her and every option leads to the same person.

I make my way towards said person grumbling. I'm going to regret this but I have no choice.

"Do you have a minute?"

"What do you want?"

"You've been here for the past 4 or 5 months, right?"

"Why?"

"I want to ask you about someone." I'm getting pissed at this uninterested, bored tone.

"You want to know why the tempered beauty didn't fall for you." It's a statement, not a question.

I freeze. How did he know about that?

"H .. How did.." I shake my head and only hear laughter.

"PETER." I'm fuming now.

"What? Oh this is so much fun."

"Who is she?"

"Why?"

"You better fucking answer my questions or I'm gonna kick your ass right here, this second and I'm gonna invite the nurses to watch." I'm losing every ounce of my patience.

Peter sighs and rolls his eyes at my false threats.

"Her name is Isabella and she's in her early twenties. She works with some charity organization that looks after kids who've been hurt in the war. She sometimes helps with translation when we're short on translators here, because as you see, most of the staff here don't speak Arabic"

"I knew all that already."

Peter keeps talking like he hasn't heard me. "She has a very short temper, so I didn't just come up with that nickname. It's just that this is not the first time someone pissed her off."

That still doesn't justify her hostility and anger toward me after I helped her, and I know she isn't a total bitch. I saw how nice she was to Dr. Garret and Zena.

Peter sees the bewildered look on my face and takes pity on me.

"There's more."

My eyes snap up to my friend's, "What?"

"She. Hates. Americans."

I frown. "What?"

I hear laughter and I see him walking away but I can't concentrate on anything after what he just told me. There's only one thought going through my head, "She hates me."

Poor Edward :( he did nothing wrong

so what do u think of Bella ? why do u think she was so mad?

we'd really love to hear what u guys think :)

Love,

Boo and Reem xx