Читать книгу The Sheikh Doc's Marriage Bargain - Susan Carlisle - Страница 11

“WHAT? ARE YOU CRAZY?” Laurel stood with her mouth gaping open. There was no way she was going to marry him! It was taking all she had in her to even travel to Zentar. Marrying some man she didn’t know was out of the question. “What do you mean, I have to marry you?”

“My country still holds to traditional values. They expect a single woman to be under the care of a man. No one is going to answer your personal health questions without you having a man’s name associated with yours. Our social rules have not changed that fast.”

“You have to be kidding.” Her bag swung at her side.

He gave her a direct look. “I assure you I am not.”

“You don’t want to marry me.” Laurel couldn’t believe the turn this conversation had taken.

“It’s true. I had no plans to marry. Ever.” His words came out flat and to the point.

“Then why would you marry me?”

“Because I know your work is important and I know what must be done to get you to come to Zentar.”

“And you’re willing to put your personal life on hold?” This man was unbelievable.

“If that is what is necessary.”

She watched him closely. “If I agree, this will be a marriage in name only. You understand?” The idea of getting tangled up with the Prince made her shudder. She was so out of her depth. Once before she’d been in this position and she’d vowed never to go there again. Who would have thought lightning would strike twice in the same place?

“I would expect nothing less.”

He made it sound like the thought had never crossed his mind to treat it as a real marriage. Or had it? Laurel wasn’t sure she liked being dismissed so easily. The hot sizzle of attraction she felt apparently didn’t go both ways. That suited her just fine, or did it? “Couldn’t we just say we’re married and not make a further deal of it?”

“No. If the media discovers that, my people would feel deceived.”

“They want this way?”

“How I live in my home is my business. They need not know.”

She couldn’t do that to her parents. “Can I at least tell my family? They can be trusted.”

“No. The media may ask them about it. I don’t want them to be forced to lie or for their faces to show something different from what our Minister of Communication may have put out.”

Her chest hurt with the thought of her mother and father. “My parents are going to be so hurt.”

“In time you can explain it to them.” He sounded determined rather than sympathetic.

There was no way they would ever understand. Maybe she could slip off and be back before they had to know much about what was going on. She could just tell them she would be out of town for a while for work. “What’s your family going to think when you show up with an American woman they have never heard of?”

“The King knows who you are. The others I will tell that I have chosen you as my wife and that will be it.” He said that like a man who didn’t make a habit of answering to anyone.

“You say your country is very traditional. Will they accept me with no questions?”

“I did not say there would not be questions. Many, I am afraid. But in the end it will not change my decision.”

“Me coming with you is that important?”

“It is. We are agreed?”

Laurel pursed her lips then finally nodded.

“Then I will make the arrangements. We marry as soon as we arrive in Zentar.”

* * *

Two days later Laurel gripped the armrest of the luxury airplane seat and squeezed her eyes tight. She questioned her sanity for the thousandth time, leaving all she had ever known for a far-flung kingdom in the Middle East to work for a man she hardly knew in a lab she’d never seen. And to top it off—marry him. What had happened to her happy, ordered life?

“We are in the air now,” the Prince said from the seat across from her. The mirth in his voice rang clear. “You can open your eyes.”

“I’d rather not.”

“So what is your plan? To spend the next ten hours with them closed?” His humor had turned to disbelief.

“Maybe.” She sounded childish but she didn’t care.

His hand came to rest over hers for a second. A shiver of awareness zipped through her. “You do not want to miss this view of Chicago.”

Laurel opened an eye a slit. She met the Prince’s look.

“Look out here.” He nodded toward the oval window but made the statement with enough authority she didn’t dare not do as he requested. With her eyelids raised only enough to make out the window, she leaned toward it.

Her fingers remained glued to the leather arms of the seat. To have recognized the material covering the chair was making progress with her terror. For the last thirty minutes she had been almost comatose. Slowly she opened her eyes until she had clear vision then peeked out the window.

He was right. The view was amazing. Below was the sparking blue of Lake Michigan. Along its bank were the glistening skyscrapers of Chicago in the afternoon sun. She could make out the river running through the center of the city. The picture was like nothing she had ever seen before. Her breath caught—in a good way.

She glanced at the Prince.

“Aren’t you glad you took a chance?” His eyes didn’t waver.

Was he talking about something more than looking out the window? “I am.”

He gave her hand a pointed look. “Do you think you could let go of my seat? I’m afraid you’re going to crush it to sand if you do not.”

She quickly clasped her hands in her lap until her knuckles hurt.

“I was just kidding you, you know,” he said in a dry tone.

Laurel hadn’t known. Had no idea what this man considered humor. They were strangers. The Prince studied the view out the window as well. It was dizzying to think that he would try to joke with her. He looked far too serious most of the time. She had seen a couple of breaks in his unbending expression but they were rare. He usually looked as if he supported the weight of the world on his shoulders. As the Minister of Health, he must carry a heavy burden.

“Prince Tariq, are you making fun of me?”

“No Dr. Martin, I’m trying to ease your mind.”

“Thank you, I think.” Had he really been that concerned about her?

“Try to sit back and relax, Laurel.”

She like the nuances of her name on his lips too much. He made it sound exotic and a little bit naughty. Until he’d used it she’d thought it a simple name and too sweet.

“By the way, you may call me Tariq when we are in private. I know my title is a mouthful. Would you like to have something to drink? Some crackers to settle your stomach?”

He had even realized that? “Yes, that would be nice.” Laurel wasn’t much of an alcohol drinker and she certainly didn’t need to start now at ten thousand feet in the air with a man who had such an effect on her.

Tariq lifted a finger and the steward came to stand beside them. “Dr. Martin will have some—”

“Ginger ale, please.”

“And I will have the same. Please bring crackers as well.”

The steward nodded and left as quietly as he had approached.

Having relaxed a little, Laurel looked around the plane. It was decorated in pale gray with darker gray curtains on either side of the windows. Her fingers rubbed the arm of the seat. The leather felt ultra-smooth. She looked across the aisle at another seat. On the headrest was what she guessed was the Zentar coat of arms. It consisted of a blue emblem with a yellow dragon over it. Since this was her first time on a plane she had no others to compare it to but she thought this one had to be one of the most luxurious ever built.

Lauren couldn’t fathom living in a world like this all the time. The expense of it alone boggled her mind. Her upbringing didn’t allow for that kind of lifestyle. She was so out of her element. What was she doing here?

The steward returned. He didn’t have the expected can of soda. Instead he held a silver tray with two clear glasses and a china plate holding crackers. He unfolded a small table from within the arm of the seat. After placing a napkin on it, he put her glass and the plate on it. He did the same for the Prince then quietly backed away.

Could she feel more out of place? She glanced at Tariq. He had opened his laptop. Without looking up, he said, “Dinner will be served in a couple of hours. Feel free to roam the plane. There is a bedroom at the back if you would like to lie down. I have work to do so you will need to entertain yourself.”

Nothing like being dismissed. He’d gotten what he wanted in her coming with him to Zentar so he apparently felt no need to keep her happy any further. Not that he’d really been trying anyway. Most of their interaction had gone his way and not hers. With a sigh, she closed her eyes. It was just as well anyway.

Tariq. Would she ever get used to calling him that?

The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of activity. Nasser, Tariq’s driver, had seen her home after her meeting with the Prince at the hotel. She’d phoned her parents and explained where she was going but had strategically left out the part about getting married. She hated lying to them by omission but she couldn’t find another way that made the situation any better. They had sounded confused, concerned and a little excited for her. She assured them she would video-chat regularly. Her brothers and sister were more enthusiastic. They all asked if they could come for a visit. Especially if the Prince would agree to send the plane for them. Laurel assured them she wouldn’t be asking him to do that.

She’d spent the rest of the day on the phone, arranging things and packing. Tariq had insisted that his assistant take care of the business end of her departure so she could handle the personal. Overwhelmed by the time crunch, she’d agreed. Once again he had gotten his way.

Winter was approaching in Chicago, where it could be bitterly cold, and now she was off to a hot, arid climate. What few clothes she owned that might suit, she’d stuffed into her ancient suitcase. She didn’t plan on being gone long so she would make do with what she had. Her heavy coats she left behind. She had to admit she wouldn’t miss the freezing windy weather of the upper mid-west.

By the time Nasser had pulled to the curb in front of her apartment just after midday, Laurel had been standing on the sidewalk with two suitcases and a box of books ready for him to load into the car. As a reluctant voyager off on a grand adventure, she had watched her apartment get smaller in the window.

Sometime later, a large warm hand on her shoulder shook her awake. Laurel jerked straight. She’d been asleep. As emotional as she had been about flying, and equally disturbed by being in Tariq’s presence, she wouldn’t have thought she could have fallen asleep. “Uh. What?”

“Dinner is being served when you are ready.” Tariq stood at her right shoulder. “The bathroom is down the hall toward the rear of the plane if you need it.” He moved away.

She looked back at him. He pulled out his phone and sank into a chair beside an elegantly set table, with the silent steward standing attentively nearby. Even high above the earth he ate well. Had the man ever had a hamburger?

Making her way to the bathroom, Laurel discovered it was twice as large as the one her family had shared growing up. Even this room was elegant, with gold fixtures and plush towels. Returning to the cabin, she took the chair across from Tariq.

The steward efficiently served their meal. She smiled. To her humor and amazement the food being offered was less sophisticated than practical. There was breast of chicken, roasted potatoes and steamed broccoli with a roll. Despite the simplicity of the menu it was tasty and filling. Since she’d missed her other meals that day, the food was welcome.

Tariq was a charming dinner companion. He kept a light dialogue going about what he had done and seen while in Chicago, asking her small insignificant questions about her favorite things to do there. When he had finished with his meal, he leaned back in his chair.

Her body heated as he studied her with his piercing look. “So, were you able to get your affairs in order without difficulty before we left?”

“I did. It required numerous phone calls and asking two neighbors to take my plants.” She raised her starched linen napkin to her lips.

“Did you work things out with your parents?”

“I did.” Not that she liked deceiving her family.

His attention focused on her. “Tell me about them.”

To her further amazement he sounded as if he genuinely wanted to know. This part of his personality she’d not expected. She cleared her throat. “They live about an hour outside Chicago. Dad is a factory worker and my mother a schoolteacher. They’re very happy together. I have two brothers and a sister. I wish I’d had time to see them. I’ll miss them.”

“You obviously care about them. I am sorry I could not have allowed you more time. If you had taken the job when I first asked, you would have had it.”

So much for his charm. He was right, but she didn’t like him pointing it out. “Are you trying to start an argument?”

His mouth lifted slightly at one side. “I am not. Just stating a fact. So how is your family taking you being away?”

“To say that my parents were surprised is an understatement. Along with concerned, and maybe just a little excited for me. They’ve been telling me for years I need to get out more.” Why was she telling this dark, brooding man that? He should be the last person she would confide in.

“I too am sorry you did not have time to see them, to have been able to say a proper goodbye. Family is important.”

She lowered her chin and gave him a narrow-eyed look. “I appreciate that but I don’t plan to be gone long.”

His expression didn’t waver and he said nothing. What was he thinking? She turned her attention to her plate. “My brothers and sisters were jealous. They all wanted to come with me.” She leaned back as the steward removed her plate then the Prince’s. “About us getting married, are you sure there is no other way?”

The question hung in the air as the steward put a plate down in front of them with a decadent-looking chocolate cake on it.

“Positive.”

After the steward left, she said softly, “Sorry.”

“He is loyal and knows that nothing he sees or hears is to be repeated. But you should still be careful what you say.”

Laurel picked up her fork and concentrated on the cake. “I will be.”

“Good.” Tariq just looked at her a moment with those unreadable eyes. He blinked. “Did you have to give up any other commitments to come to Zentar?”

“You’re asking that now?”

“I just wanted to make sure some man wasn’t going to show up unannounced and create a problem.”

“You don’t need to worry about that happening.” She refused to let him know why it wouldn’t be an issue.

“That’s good to hear. I suspect you live for your work.”

That might be true but she didn’t like the way it sounded out loud. He didn’t think she had a personal life? His attitude made her think too much of her childhood years when she had been made fun of for reading all the time. She glared at him, which she seemed to be doing a lot of. “It would be my guess we both tend to do that.”

“Agreed.” He dug into his cake.

He made it sound like she had given him a compliment. “You mean I actually have something in common with a prince!” Laurel made her tone as cynical as possible. Who was she kidding? She had little in common with him and never would.

Tariq smiled. Her breath caught. Having it directed at her made her feel special, all warm and gooey inside. “It sounds like we do.”

This laid-back, easygoing aspect of his temperament she could learn to like.

“You know, I’ve been wondering about where I’m going to be living. Do I need to rent a car? Can I just walk to the lab?”

“You will be my wife. You will live on the palace grounds, in my apartments. All you have to do is ask for anything you need.”

Live with him? At the palace? She hadn’t thought this through. A palace wasn’t where she belonged. She wouldn’t fit in with royalty. She wasn’t like them. “There’s no other arrangements that can be made?”

“Not if you are my wife. There are plenty of rooms in my apartment. You will not be disturbed. Nasser or one of the other drivers will always be available to take you to and from the clinic.”

“Am I going to need an escort for some reason?” Was there something going on she needed to know about?

“You do not.” He almost sounded hurt. “Zentar is a very safe country. You are welcome to wear Western dress but be aware of the sun. It can often be very strong so you may want to consider a hat and sunglasses whenever you’re out. Cover your fair skin in the middle of the day.”

It gave her a peculiar feeling to have him note something as personal as her skin. As if she mattered to him. That wasn’t possible.

He continued, “I think you will find that everything you might wish for will be at the lab, which will be fully under your direction. I’ve already hired six highly qualified employees. They have impeccable qualifications.”

“Okay.” She wanted to do research, not wrangle people, and she had no intention of starting to do that now.

“The lab is housed in the same building as our public clinic, which will be opened five days a week. You will find that it is extremely busy. Anyone who comes to the clinic with hemophilia will automatically be referred to the lab for testing.” His voice took on a certain ring of excitement as he spoke. “The lab will also handle any special cases, like cancer.” His phone buzzed and he frowned at the screen.

“I don’t know if you have made any notations in your paperwork or talked to people who know me, but I’m not a manager. That’s part of the reason I went into research. I don’t give orders well.”

He glanced at her. “That is hard to believe. You have had no difficulty making it clear to me what you like or dislike.”

She leaned forward in her seat. “Even you have to admit this is an extraordinary situation. Or do you demand women marry you all the time?”

“I do not. You are the first. I think you will be fine in the lab.” Tariq’s attention went back to the phone.

“I don’t want the responsibility of telling people what to do.” That was an aspect of her personality that had always been a struggle.

“You should not have a problem. I have hired professionals who know their jobs. If you do have an issue, let me know.”

“You can bet I will,” Laurel murmured. “My research comes first.”

His attention was on her now. “And I fully intend that it should be.”

“Is there anything else you expect from me?”

Tariq studied her a moment too long, his eyes not wavering. Laurel shifted in her chair. Was Tariq thinking about what they were discussing or had his focus shifted to them being husband and wife? Once again she wished she could have a hint of his thoughts.

“No, I just expect you to do what you have been brought here to do and nothing more.” He stood. “It’s another seven hours before we land. Feel free to use the bath and bedroom. I’ll have the steward wake you an hour before we arrive. There is a TV in the bedroom that you are free to watch. If you are interested in tracking our flight, turn to Channel Three. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a matter to handle.” With that he walked to an office area toward the front of the plane.

Laurel hadn’t felt at ease about this job arrangement or fake marriage from the beginning. Her recent discussion with Tariq hadn’t improved her attitude. Unease filled her. Tariq. She had no business calling a prince by his first name alone. This entire situation was surreal.

Maybe a shower and a little reading would help settle her nerves. It had turned dark since she had fallen asleep earlier.

She found her small bag sitting beside the bathroom door. Apparently the steward had placed it there while they’d been having dinner. After a hot shower in the roomy bathroom she dressed and crossed the hallway to the bedroom.

After locking the door, she tested the bed like Goldilocks, sitting on it and giving a little bounce. It was as plush as the rest of the plane. Somehow it was unnerving to think of sleeping in Prince Tariq Al Marktum’s bed. How many others had? That wasn’t her business. She needed rest if she planned to have her wits about her when they landed.

Curious about where she was in the world, she turned on the TV. Finding out that she was over the center of the ocean didn’t reassure her and she quickly turned the TV to another channel. Finding little interest in any show, she turned it off and slipped under the covers. Where the Prince planned to sleep she had no idea.

Laurel ran her hand across the ultra-soft material. What would it be like to sleep in such luxury all the time? With Tariq? She shuddered. Where had that impossible thought come from?

* * *

She was jolted awake by a knock on the door and the steward announcing it was time for her to rise. Choosing a blue suit over a pale pink knit top, she quickly dressed, hoping she appeared confident and professional. Blue flats finished her outfit. She would need that self-confidence to face what was coming her way today. Laurel rubbed her hands along the front of her jacket. This wasn’t what she’d dreamed of wearing to her wedding. But hers wouldn’t be a real one so it really didn’t matter.

She found Tariq already sitting at the dining table with a plate of eggs in front of him. The smell of strong coffee circulated in the air.

She stopped short.

He was no longer dressed in a Western business suit. Instead he wore a white robe. Over it was a long mint-green vest with a wide decorative braid running the length of the front opening. His beard had been meticulously trimmed under his neck and at the hollows of his cheeks, creating a thin chic fashionable look that only emphasized the ruggedness of his appearance. He was every bit the picture of a desert prince. A lightning bolt of awareness shot through her core.

Trying to ignore the sudden warmth in her nether regions, she managed, “Uh...good morning.”

“Join me.” The sound of his deep voice ran across her nerve endings like a bow over a violin string. As usual his request was more of a statement than an invitation. Her awareness of his virility was so acute, his simple demand had her hands trembling. She swiftly sat across from him, grabbed the napkin and twisted it in her lap. This surreal physical reaction to Tariq had to stop.

The steward came to stand beside them.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Tariq asked.

Laurel looked at the steward. “Toast and a cup of tea will be fine.”

“I fear that you’ll need more than that for today,” Tariq commented as he continued to look at the papers spread out on the table. “Some eggs with that, please.”

The steward nodded and stepped away.

“I don’t know how you expect me to be intelligent enough to run your lab if you don’t think I know my mind well enough to order what I want to eat.”

He looked at her, a brow cocked, and nodded. “I apologize. It will not happen again.”

“What? I actually get my way for once?” For the brief time she’d known Tariq every disagreement had gone his way. This tiny victory she planned to savor.

There was a twinkle of something in his eyes that looked suspiciously like mirth. “It would appear you have. I trust you slept well last night.”

“I did.” She smiled.

“Excellent.” He moved a paper and picked up another beneath it. “I wanted to share today’s schedule.”

Laurel hadn’t stepped off the plane and he’d already planned her day. Would he always be controlling her time? When was she supposed to do her research? Between his calendar and managing the lab, how was she supposed to get anything done?

“We will be arriving midmorning Zentar time. From the airport we will go straight to the palace. We will have a small ceremony there. A few of my family will attend. Afterwards we will visit the lab then we will return to the palace. I have a late afternoon meeting I must not miss.”

Nothing like marrying and running. Didn’t sound much different from what Larry had done to her. After all, he’d gotten what he’d wanted and gone on his way. The Prince was manipulating her as well. But in return she was getting something she sought too, the chance to continue her research. For that she would do anything.

“Laurel, are you listening to me?” Tariq sounded put out. From the look on his face he didn’t make a practice of repeating himself.

She looked at him.

“After that your time is your own. Take it from an experienced traveler that you should rest. Jet lag is a real thing.” He let the paper he’d been reading flutter to the table.

“I’ll be fine, I’m sure.” She’d had enough of him dictating to her. “I’ll want to get to work at the lab as soon as possible.”

As usual his eyes revealed nothing of his emotions. “That is your choice, but I fear you will pay dearly for that decision. You need not concern yourself with being there before the day after tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there first thing in the morning. I was close to a breakthrough in my research and I want to get started again as soon as possible.”

“As you wish.” He went back to his papers.

Her breakfast arrived. While she ate, Tariq continued reading. Occasionally he would make a note on one of the papers or look at his phone. When she put her fork down for the final time, his gaze met hers. She cheeks went warm. Despite not wanting much food, she’d cleaned her plate. The fact Tariq had been right about her appetite irritated her.

He stood. “Come and have your first look at Zentar.” He indicated the window she had looked out the night before.

Curious about the place she would be calling home for the next few weeks, for that was all she planned to stay, she went to the seat she’d occupied the evening before. Gripping the armrest, she slowly leaned toward the window.

“I see you have not overcome your fear.” To her astonishment there was a note of sympathy in his observation.

“No, I haven’t. I doubt I ever will.” About many things. However, making this trip was a huge step toward doing so. She couldn’t deny the pride forming in her chest for having found the courage to come to Zentar.

“I promise you will be glad you looked if you only will.” His beautiful voice seductively coaxed her.

Fortifying herself, Laurel rested her head against the side of the plane. Below she could see the sapphire Arabian Sea.

“See that small white dot in the distance? That is Zentar.”

Laurel jumped and glanced around to find Tariq’s head close. Too close. Her lips were an inch from his face. His citrus aftershave filled her nose. He had a hand braced against the bulkhead, leaning over her, as they looked out the same window.

Laurel wasn’t sure which made her dizzier—Tariq’s nearness or the sensation of the plane skimming over the water toward the small crystal jewel ahead. Tariq remained where he was, his breath ruffling her hair. Yes, he was much too close.

“You must learn not to flinch every time I am near or when I touch you. My people will think you do not like me. That will not do.”

What his people didn’t know was that she reacted too much to their Prince for her comfort. “Maybe you should leave some distance between us so they’ll not notice.”

“I am not sure that will be possible.” Had his lips touched the top of her head?

Laurel forced herself to focus on the sight outside the window. Zentar grew larger, turning into a pallet of off-white with spots of green here and there. The plane banked to the right. Laurel hissed and grasped the seat with both hands.

Tarik laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re just lining up for our approach.”

His soothing voice and touch reassured her. “I bet the pilot thought that was a lot more fun than I did.”

Laughter deep and full rolled from his throat. “I will remind him next time not to be quite so dramatic with his banking when you are on board.”

Again she looked out the window, fascinated by the land below. Now she could make out buildings. Some were a pale pink while others were yellow and blue. High on a rise off to the north was a sparkling mass of buildings that overlooked the others.

“That is the palace off on the horizon. It is beautiful, is it not?”

It was. That they could agree on. How would it feel to have a man like Tariq speak about her with such pride and love? Squelching that unacceptable idea, she heard a distinctive ding ring throughout the cabin.

Tariq moved to take the seat across from her. “It is time to prepare for landing. You need to buckle up.”

Laurel shivered as she settled into her seat. It was suddenly cool in the cabin without Tariq so near. Fumbling a moment, she finally secured her belt.

The plane started its descent and she clasped her hands in her lap, closed her eyes and pushed her head back into the chair. She didn’t like the landing any better than she had the take-off.

“It is painful to watch you. You must stop. I want to wrap you in my arms and hold you.”

Her eyelids whipped open. The Prince’s intense stare held her captive.

“That is better.” His words were gentle and encouraging, easing her anxiety. “At least I shocked you out of the misery you were in.”

He had only said that to help her? Why did that disappoint her? In a tight voice Laurel said, “Please don’t make fun of me.”

“I would never do that. I believe you are very brave, to leave all you know and for your first trip to be one halfway around the world when you have experienced so little of it.”

She’d never thought of herself as brave. It was rather a heady experience to hear Prince Tariq say she was. As a child she had always been afraid. She’d accepted early in her life that her only way of coping with being the butt of her classmates’ cruelty was to hide in her books. The only time she’d felt accomplished had been when she’d made good grades. Which in turn had added something more for her peers to use against her.

In college she hadn’t faired any better. After Larry had dumped her she’d overheard a couple of his buddies laughing about the “brainiac” Larry had laid to win a bet. Instead of facing them and telling them she was a person with feelings, she’d slipped away. They never knew she’d been there. She’d vowed not to trust a man again. Now here she was with her entire world dependent on one she didn’t really know or trust. This time she would guard her heart more closely.

Even after becoming a licensed physician she hadn’t had the strength to venture further than two hours away from where she’d grown up. It had been a major event to move to Chicago by herself and she’d only managed it because of her burning desire to continue her search for a cure for hemophilia. She’d attended only those medical conferences that were close to home. Even though she’d made the flight to Zentar she wasn’t so sure it had as much to do with courage as it did with how badly she wished to have access to a lab. Her research was what drove her. Aware she had a number of admirable traits, bravery wasn’t one of them.

Seconds later the tires touching the tarmac with a screech of brakes made her tense again. Tariq placed a hand over hers. His look held hers as heat shot through her.

Soon the plane was rolling slowly and smoothly to a stop. She was safe on the ground. Tariq removed his hand. Laurel watched him nonchalantly release his seat belt and stand. Without a word he walked toward the back of the plane.

Through the window Laurel observed the heat haze just above the tarmac and the low tan-colored building that was the airport terminal. It looked simple yet modern. A flag flew above it that held the same emblem adorning the seats of the plane. Beyond the airport were buildings after buildings. None were over two stories high. In the distance stood the sprawling, gleaming pearl—the palace. The place she would call home, at least temporarily. She was out of her league. Fitting in here would be harder than it had been when she’d been a child.

The whoosh of air when the steward opened the door brought her back to the present. She hurriedly unlatched her seat belt.

Tariq reappeared. He’d placed a white headdress with gold braid on his head, and it flowed around his shoulders.

Laurel stared. As striking as he was in Western wear, this island Prince’s attire made him more appealing.

“I am expected to look the part of the royal family when I arrive home after official trips. It is the King’s way of reminding the people that we honor our traditions. As Minister of Health I have a position to uphold.”

Why did he feel he must explain his choice of clothing to her? In the last few days he hadn’t seemed to take any notice of her feelings or concerns. When did what she thought of him start to matter?

“I understand. I just didn’t expect...” She shut her mouth and waved at him in frustration. Laurel wasn’t about to tell Tariq she hadn’t planned on him taking her breath away with his Arabian Nights good looks, charm and impressive lifestyle.

“Expect?” He watched her too keenly for comfort.

“I, uh...don’t know. I guess I just assumed you always wore Western clothes.”

“Most of the time I do, but the reporters will be here. I must look the part.”

“I get that.” For him this attire was like when she’d pulled on her lab coat to meet him. It was the uniform that specified status.

He stepped near and took her elbow. “It is time to go. We have a schedule to keep.”

She was too aware of that. Getting married to him was at the top of the list. The mere idea made her middle flutter like a flock of birds taking off. Laurel suddenly wished she hadn’t eaten so much breakfast.

Tariq’s hand remained on her elbow as they walked down the stairs that had been precisely placed at the open cabin door. The Prince greeted the group of people waiting at the bottom with a wave.

Laurel had never dreamed the press would be interested in her. She was so out of her element. A couple of cameras flashed. She closed her eyes and turned her head.

Tariq raised a hand and everyone quieted. “This is Dr. Laurel Martin. She will be heading our new research lab as well as becoming my wife. We will be having a small family ceremony this afternoon at the palace. A celebration will be planned for a later date.”

The crowd gasped. Cameras flashed.

He didn’t let that deter him. “Please be kind enough to give her a warm Zentaran welcome. Also hold all questions for later. We’ve had a long flight and have much to do today.”

Laurel had never identified more with Dorothy arriving in Oz than she did at that moment. What had she gotten herself into?