The Sheikh Doc's Marriage Bargain. Susan Carlisle
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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?
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