The Sheikh Doc's Marriage Bargain

“When you are a mother, anyone who helps your child has done a lot.”

“I was glad I could.” Laurel’s attention went back to Roji. “Now it’s time for a tickle.” She checked his ears, eyes and throat. “Can you hold the stethoscope for me while I give you a listen?”

Roji put his hand on the bell.

Laurel moved it over his heart. “Right here is where it goes. You sound perfect to me.” She tickled him and he giggled. Laurel helped him off the table. She spoke to Zara. “He looks fine to me. It’s good to see you both again.”

“I’m sure we will see each other often.” Zara took Roji’s hand, stopping him from jumping up and down. “I am glad you are here. I know Tariq is glad to have you to help him. He admires you. Admiration is not something he gives lightly.”

“Thank you.” Was Zara trying to tell her something?

“This is the first time I’ve been in the clinic. It is very nice.” Zara looked around the room. “I know Tariq takes great pride in it.”

“He should. He did an excellent job in putting together an up-to-date facility.” Laurel hadn’t found any fault in it. In fact, she wished there were more clinics like it in the US.

“He is passionate about many things. Not just his work and the clinic.”

Laurel was super-conscious of the woman’s intense gaze. What was Zara not saying?

As if changing the subject, Zara commented, “I understand from Tariq that you would like to study our family medical history.”

“He told you that?” Laurel couldn’t conceal her surprise. Yesterday afternoon he had made it sound like she would have to fight him tooth and nail to get him to agree for her to study his family.

“He did when I spoke to him a little while ago.”

Excitement filled Laurel. So Tariq had arranged it. “Yes, I would. All that’s involved is you answering a few questions and having some blood drawn.”

“That will not be a problem.” Zara started for the door.

“Tariq doesn’t like the idea of me studying the family.”

“He is very protective of us. I think more than he should be. Still, it is nice to have someone to care about you, is it not?”

It was, if the person really cared and wasn’t just after a fling. Laurel forced a smile.

Roji pulled on his mother’s hand. “Ice cream.”

Zara laughed. “I know. I promised, did I not? Laurel, we must be going now. Let me know when you are ready to do your study work.”

“If you have time, maybe you could have the blood drawn today. It would just be a matter of going down the hall for a minute.”

“That would be fine.”

“Then I’ll write the order.” Laurel hurriedly wrote on a pad. Tearing the sheet off, she handed it to Zara. “If there is a problem with Roji, send for me. I will come do the draw.”

“That I promise.” Zara walked Roji out.

“Thank you for being willing to help me.”

“You are welcome. Tariq will come around as well, I am sure.”

Laurel wasn’t as confident. “You know him far better than I do.”

Zara turned and gave her a piercing look. “He admires you. Likes you. He knows he can trust you. That says much about your character.”

“Thank you for saying so.” This conversation had taken a turn into an area Laurel wasn’t sure she understood or was prepared for.

Zara left, smiling at her serenely.

Laurel was also smiling. She had made a friend. It was a nice feeling.

* * *

By the time the director closed the door for the day, Laurel’s back and feet hurt. Not since her fellowship had she spent such long hours on her feet. Yet the day had been rewarding. More so than she had imagined. For years she had avoided patient contact and today she had discovered she rather enjoyed it. Other than asking for the next patient to be sent in, she had given few orders. The nurses knew what they needed to do almost before she asked.

Exhausted, Laurel still had work to do in her lab. She needed to set up some tests so she could get an early start in the morning. The staff she passed on her way out smiled broadly at her. She’d worked alone for so long she’d forgotten what being a member of a team was like.

* * *

Laurel had no idea how long she had been in her lab when the phone rang. She jumped when the sound shattered her concentration. Grabbing the receiver, she took a deep breath in order to say in a calm voice, “Dr. Martin.”

“It is Nasser.”

“Is there something wrong?” Had something happened to Roji? Tariq?

“No, ma’am. I am here to drive you to the palace.”

“Now?” She hadn’t called him.

“The Prince said to come and get you at midnight if you had not called.”

“It’s midnight?” She had been so adsorbed in her work she’d no idea it was so late.

“Yes. The Prince says I must stay here until you are ready to go.”

Laurel had no doubt the loyal man wouldn’t move until she came out. After all, the Prince had given his orders. “I will be there in a moment.”

How had Tariq known she was still at the lab at this hour? Did he have a spy checking on her? She quickly removed her sterile covering, scrubbed and went out to meet Nasser. She fully expected to see Tariq sitting in the back seat of the car but was disappointed.

“Nasser,” she said as they rode, “I’m sorry. I had no idea that it was so late. You must want to get home to your wife and family.”

“No wife and family.”

“Still, I kept you out late.”

“I was on the way home from taking the Prince to the airport.”

Tariq wasn’t at the palace. Why did that disturb her so? Panic started to fill her but she tamped it down. She was being silly. “Where did he go?”

“To the other side of the country for meetings.”

“Oh. So, how did you know I was at the lab?”

“The Prince said you would still be there.”

So the man thought he knew her that well. She tightened her lips. Maybe he did. She had been right where he’d told Nasser she’d be.

Laurel tried not to ask the question but she had to know. “Will the Prince be gone long?”

“A week or more.”

Laurel’s chest fell. So long? Tariq hadn’t

said anything about leaving or even goodbye. But why should he? There was nothing between them.

Except that kiss.

* * *

Tariq took another strong stroke in the palace pool. With gratifying fluidity of motion he put one arm over his head and then the other with hardly a ripple as he pulled through the water. Swimming was his way of unwinding. Tonight, however, it was not working as well as he wished.

He had been gone for over a week. The issues at the two new clinics had taken him away longer than he had planned. He always disliked being away from his family, but this time he had wanted to come home almost the moment he had left. He had never been so anxious to return to the palace. He had tried to convince himself he should be home overseeing the main clinic, be on hand in case he was needed.

But the truth, he had finally realized, was that he did not like being away from Laurel. The easy justification was that he feared she would leave if he was not close. The honest fact was that he was attracted to her. Wanted to get to know her better. They had only known each other for a few days yet they shared something. It sparked between them anytime they were together.

Tomorrow he planned to check in at the clinic and see how things were progressing. There would also be a stop in the lab to see Laurel. He missed their sparring. She made him laugh and there was not enough of that in his life. Laurel spoke her mind. And there was that kiss. Heat flared in him whenever he thought of kissing her again. He was losing his mind where Laurel was concerned.

Maybe it was good he had been gone so long. If he had stayed near her, he might have done something he would regret. Her reaction to his kiss had been unsure and untutored, almost fearful. He had scared her with his ardor, and that was the last effect he wanted to have on her. Why was she so skittish? Surely someone her age had had relationships. Or had she always hidden herself behind a glass window?

To appease his guilt at having left without telling her, which he had done only because of Laurel’s insistence they were merely business associates and he did not owe her an account of his movements, he had sent her a gift of a new stethoscope. He’d had Nasser see to the purchase and delivery, but Tariq had taken the time to write her a note before he’d left. He had labored to keep it as impersonal as possible.