The Sheikh Doc's Marriage Bargain

Tariq waved him away. His eyes had gone emotionless. “How dare I do what?”

“You saw to it that I had no choice but to come to Zentar. You put the word out that I was coming here so that no one would offer me funding. You manipulated me. Worked me like a puppet.”

Tariq stood. “It was not like that.”

“Then tell me how it was.” She straightened as he circled the desk to stand in front of her.

“I needed you here. It has not been that bad, has it?” He reached for her.

She stepped back.

“That’s not the point. You turned my life upside down for your own advantage. You had no right. On top of that, you convinced me I needed to marry you to do the work I wanted to do. It has all been a lie. You...” she pointed her finger at him “...are no better than Larry was. You wanted something and my feelings didn’t matter.” To her satisfaction, Tariq looked as if she had slapped him.

“It was not like that! Maybe I did let a few people know I wanted you for my lab. That is all. I never used you to win a bet. My country needed you.”

“So that gives you the right to do whatever it took to make that happen? Even disrupt my life?”

“What life? The one where you lived in a glass room all the time? Or the one where you never used your skills to actually interact with patients? The one where you were too afraid to let people get to really know you?”

Laurel’s stomach churned. “As opposed to yours? Where you carry guilt around like a boulder on your shoulders for something you had no control over. Or deny what you want most in the world—children. You hide behind your job and position, so you are safe from having feelings on a personal level.”

Tariq took a step back. “That is enough.”

“Don’t go all ‘Your Highness’ on me. It won’t work. What you did was wrong. It can’t be changed now but I’m done here. I’m done with the lab, Zentar and you!” She headed for the door.

“Laurel, you cannot just leave like that. What about us?”

She whirled, glaring at him. “There is no us! There never was. It’s been about you all along. About your lab, your country, your needs. I’m done providing you with all of that. It’s time I see about me. Send me the annulment papers—oh, yeah, that would be divorce papers now, wouldn’t it? I’ll gladly sign them.”

* * *

Three weeks later Tariq sat in the King’s office during a meeting of ministry heads. His mind wandered back to the day his life had become one of misery. He could still hear the sound of his office door slamming behind Laurel, actually flinched at the memory. As happy as he had been during the weeks Laurel had been in his world, he now lived in the depths of despair. Somehow she had become ingrained in his life, to grow into the light he revolved around. He was paying dearly for his actions now.

Shame heated his face. He had let her down like no one ever had. She had believed in him. It had shone clearly in her eyes. Her love for him, which he had stupidly refused to acknowledge, had sparkled in them as well. She had tried to hide it but on more than one occasion when she’d thought he was not paying attention it had been brightly visible.

Laurel loved with all her heart and being. He had learned that early in their relationship when she had spoken about her family. He’d had a taste of that sweet, cleansing water and he craved it again. He not only wanted Laurel, he needed her.

She had been right when she’d spat those words at him. He had become so used to getting his way he gave no thought to what it did to other people. The need to divest himself of his guilt had driven him all these years. He was a doctor and intelligent, no longer a boy trying to understand why his brothers were going through something horrible while he was not. Yet he had let it dictate his life. Let it drive him to do something he regretted and was ashamed of. Because of it he had even indirectly forced a woman to marry him.

With Laurel he’d had laughter, been challenged. He had become a different man. Just watching her experience something new had given him joy. She’d teased him and taught him not to take life so seriously. If there was an emergency, her level head was the one he wanted helping him.

As impossible as the days were, the nights were far worse. His body craved Laurel’s touch. He swam more laps than he would have thought humanly possible and still was not tired enough to dislodge the ache long enough for him to sleep. He needed her warm body against his to get through the night. Since it was not there, he spent hours walking the halls or in his office. When he could he took Turo out for a ride but nothing seemed to ease the pain.

“Tariq, what do you think?” The King’s question brought Tariq back to the present.

His head jerked up. “I am not sure.”

“We are going to close this meeting for now,” the King said with a hint of irritation in his voice.

The others walked away from the table. Tariq moved to follow.

“Tariq, I wish to speak to you.” There was no room for argument in his brother’s voice.

Tariq settled in his seat again.

After all the others had left and the door was closed behind them, the King sat again. “I am going to say this as your brother. You work is suffering. I cannot tolerate that, for the sake of the country.”

Tariq sat straighter. “It is handled.”

“Is it?”

His brother watched him too closely. “You know I supported you about the lab. I understand better than most the need for the work done there. I also understand why you wanted the best of the best.”

Tariq started to speak. His brother held up a hand.

“I know you hate the disease as much as I do. I also know you feel guilt that you do not have it. I am older, I could see the fear on your face when Rasheed or I had a problem. It scared you as much as it did us. I also know you felt left out. Neither Rasheed nor I ever resented you for not having hemophilia. We were glad you did not.”

These things they had never spoken of before. Uncomfortable with this frank discussion, Tariq shifted in his chair.

“I could not have been happier when you took a wife. I was surprised but happy also. I feared you never would because you were so driven by your work and the need to find a cure for hemophilia. I worried you would never take a chance on having children, or know the joy that having a family brings.”

Tariq looked at him in surprise.

“Yes, I knew. I’ve known since we were young. I overheard you telling Rasheed that night in the hospital.”

Tariq had said that to Rasheed after he had been admitted after a fall. Tariq had had no idea anyone else had been around.

“When you married Laurel I hoped you had changed your mind. I was greatly disappointed when she left. What I do know is that she was good for you. I do not know what happened between you two. I am not sure I want to know, but I wil

l tell you this—life is too precious and fragile to waste, and we know that better than many. In the state you are in, that is what you are doing.”

“May I say something now?” Tariq looked at his brother.

The King stood. “No, I am not finished yet. As your King I command you to let your guilt go and fix the problem with Laurel.”

Tariq waited for him to say more and when he didn’t he asked, “Now may I speak?”

“Yes.”

Tariq stood as well and went to his brother, hugging him. “May I use the jet?”

* * *

Laurel had set her lab schedule and stuck to it since she had returned to the States. Eight hours a day and no more unless she was performing a special test. Having that much time on her hands outside work had been difficult at first. There was too many hours available to think about Tariq but she needed to find balance. That started with setting work boundaries.

She had already found a clinic that was willing to let her work one day a week seeing patients. Her family was pleased with her decision to spend more time with them as well. She had even accepted an invitation to go bowling with some of her lab mates, to their great amazement. The night had been entertaining but her heart hadn’t been in it. She missed Zentar. Nights in the garden. Swimming. The lights of the city. If she admitted the truth, she missed Tariq. Desperately.

That awful day she had gone to Tariq’s office she had left it to pack her bags and called for a palace driver to take her to the airport. The only thing she had taken with her that she hadn’t come with was the blue gown the villagers had given her. She had been unable to just leave it behind.

At the airport she had been met by Nasser. He had told her he had been instructed to escort her home and that the royal jet was waiting. She had refused him but had soon found out that it would be the next day before a commercial airline was flying to the States. Reluctantly, she’d agreed to use the jet.

She had been nervous about flying but it had been overridden by the anguish she’d felt. How could Tariq have done that to her? Especially after she had told him about Larry? As soon as they’d been in the air, and not wanting Nasser to report back to Tariq, she had locked herself in the bedroom and cried until the jet was far out over the ocean, then had slept. She hadn’t come out until it was time to land.