The Sheikh Surgeon's Proposal

Malek let out an ugly laugh. “Offering Janaan luxury is like offering a perfect falcon extra wings. And how will I honor her without proclaiming her mine to the world?”

Jay couldn’t hear more. Shouldn’t have heard it at all, hadn’t meant to hear it. She just couldn’t move.

She had to.

She forced her legs to move but she stumbled, bumped into a pillar with an urn on top of it. The crash sent her collapsing on the nearest divan, brought men rushing in from every direction. She only saw Malek, saw how his face contorted the moment he saw her.

With one fierce order, he cleared the room. Then, wordlessly, he scooped her up in his arms, took her to the stateroom, closed the door securely behind them. He lowered her onto another divan, came down on his knees before her, clutching her hands, his face clenched in agitation and entreaty.

Before he could say anything, she rasped out weakly, “Your problems—the uproar in the kingdom—they’re all over me, aren’t they?”

“No, no.” He rose, kissed her all over her face. “I promised I’ll take care of it, and I will.”

She shook her head and he brought an urgent hand to her face. A cry of horror tore out of her. She groped for his hand, slid shaking fingers over his swollen, discolored knuckles.

His irreplaceable hands, his surgeon’s miraculous tools, injured in her defense. He could have impaired them forever. What more injuries and losses must he endure on her account?

“What I would give for you not to have heard that, ya habibati.” He kissed her hand, a knuckle at a time.

“I didn’t mean to, but I did, and I need you to please tell me the rest.”

For a long moment he struggled with loathing to inflict more on her. Then he finally exhaled, heavy and resigned.

“There’s no dispute that the house of Munsoor Aal-Hamdaan, my great-grandfather, is the rightful one. But there are other branches of the Aal-Hamdaan family, as well as ancient tribes who have always had a part of the rule through marriage into Munsoor’s line. I told the elders of the candidate houses that I won’t have sons of their blood, that when I’m dead they should decide who will rule after me.”

“Th-that has only made the dispute over who will rule after you start right now, threatening a civil war.” He acknowledged the accuracy of her conclusion with a curt nod, his color now deep copper. “What is the solution?”

He gritted his teeth. “They suggest I first take a wife the kingdom will accept, then, as our religion permits in extreme conditions, to invoke my right to take you as my second wife.”

“And this is the only way, isn’t it?”

This was a rhetorical question. He still answered it, vehement, final. “No, it isn’t. I haven’t accepted their solution. And I won’t. I will find another way.”

Suddenly he crushed her in his arms. “I will find a way—just give me more time. La t’seebeeniya rohi—don’t leave me, don’t even think it. I can see you, feel you thinking it.” He crushed her harder into him, his hand burying her face in his neck, every convulsion of his Adam’s apple, every break in his ragged voice a shock wave of misery and desperation. Her heart bled, tears escaped down her face. He shook her, frantic to drag her back to him, to keep her there. “Promise me you won’t leave me. Give me your pledge, Janaan.”

She only nodded, buried her face in his neck again.

A harsh exhalation spilled from his lips, relief made audible, before he tilted her face up, poured love and dependence over her. “Ashkorek, ya mashoogati—thank you. I will never let you down.”

“I will never do what you’re asking, ya doctorah!”

“You must, Saeed.” Jay heard the manic edge lacing her shrill voice. She was going crazy with fear that he’d refuse her. Run to Malek. That she wouldn’t be able to run away. “You must help me get out of Damhoor.”

“But why?” Saeed’s desert-hardened face for once reflected his emotions. Confusion, agitation. Disappointment.

“Because my presence is blinding Malek to the fact that he has far more important things than me to worry about—a whole nation’s peace and future.”

Saeed obsidian eyes only hardened. “King Malek is convinced that he has your pledge to remain by his side until he reaches a solution that will allow him to take you, and only you, as his wife. You want to break your pledge?”

“I must.” It was a cry so shrill it made him wince. She panted, continued, her voice wobbling. “There is no solution and he knows it. But right now he’s willing to risk anything to keep his pledge to me. I can’t let him do this to Damhoor, to himself. Without me in the picture, he’ll be the most powerful, most benevolent king who ever lived. With me he’ll be a ruler at war with his own country, finding no peace, ending up with strife on his conscience, even blood on his hands, and I’m—I’m not w-worth that, n-nothing is …”

She wept. Until she felt she’d dissolve and solve everyone’s problems. Saeed watched her break down in utter helplessness.

A long time later, still quaking, she struggled to talk through the hacking sobs. “By leaving I’ll remove the one reason this prosperous land might find itself in the throes of a civil war—like those tearing so many neighboring nations apart.”

Saeed shook his salt-and-pepper head. “King Malek said he’ll find a way. And he will. Don’t you have faith in him?”

“I have every faith in him,” she cried. “But he’s not thinking clearly now. Malek … his fortitude staggers me but even he has limits and he’s taken more blows in the last year than anyone should endure in ten lifetimes. Majd, his father, finding himself crowned king, being forced to relinquish his vocation, his freedom. And he’d already demanded too much of himself, drawing on his reserves constantly, pouring himself into his work. I hoped to be his biggest support but I’m now his greatest burden and I’ll remain that and I can’t …”

“You can’t?” Saeed barked. “What about King Malek? I thought no man could love a woman like I loved my late wife. But his love for you makes what drove me to despair for years, what makes me unable to feel anything for another woman ever again, seem like nothing. Your desertion will kill him!”

“No!” The paroxysm drove her to her knees, raining tears on the very ground Malek walked on. “Please—don’t. I’m leaving so he can live, be in peace, be happy—eventually. He’ll forget me. It’ll be difficult at first, but time and distance will—”