The Sheikh Doc's Marriage Bargain
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“Excellent.”
They walked a little further before he tugged on her hand and they headed back the way they had come. “I am hungry. Let’s go see what the cook packed.”
When they arrived at their belongings they dropped to the blanket.
Tariq opened the basket. “So what do we have?” He removed a plate with dates, grapes, olives and small pieces of bread. Next came a bowl. He unwrapped the covering and they found olive oil in it. Then came a small cooler that held a plate of cheeses and sliced meats.
“This looks wonderful.” Laurel had never seen a more delicious picnic. Tariq, the place and the food were all conspiring to make her fall in love with Zentar.
“These are all things produced on Zentar,” he said. “Help yourself.”
Laurel popped a date into her mouth. “Mmm.” She glanced at Tariq. He watched her with an unnerving absorption, as if she were the most fascinating person in the world. His intensity sent a zip of excitement through her that made her pulse hum. “Shouldn’t you be eating? You said you were hungry.”
“I am.”
His answer clearly suggested he meant hungry for her. That blaze in his eyes burned brightly. Her center throbbed.
Tariq blinked and the look disappeared. He calmly picked up a piece of bread, dipped it in the oil and popped it into his mouth. While he ate, he opened a bottle of wine. Holding a glass like the expert she was sure he was, he poured.
Laurel chose one of the large olives then took a bite out of it. She wanted to know more about this man who seem to have two different sides. “Did you go off to school when you were a child?”
Tariq looked out at the water. “No, we had tutors come to the palace. My brothers and I showed them no mercy.”
“I can imagine what three young boys can do to a person. My brothers and sister are younger than me. They used to gang up on me.”
A small smile curved his lips. “We did that and more. Mice, garter snakes, spiders. If you can think of it, we did it. Mother and Father threatened to send us to boarding school, but we knew they did not mean it. They wanted us close. Especially the Heir Apparent and Rasheed.”
She had just unlocked another element of his personality. “You felt left out, didn’t you?”
“Somewhat, but I understood. They were special.”
“I’m sure your parents didn’t think you were any less special.” Laurel felt for the little boy who might not have gotten the attention his brothers had. It had shaped him into the man he was. Tough on the outside and vulnerable on the inside.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TARIQ HAD HAD enough of this conversation. This day was about relaxing, not resuscitating old feelings. “It is my turn to ask questions. Has there not been any other man in your life since that jerk?”
Laurel’s face reddened. She looked away. He wished he hadn’t asked. Apparently she was as touchy about this subject as he was about his childhood. But the question was out there now.
“No.”
She said the word so softly he could barely make it out over the lap of water. That was difficult for him to believe. “Why not? Has no one asked you out?”
“They’ve asked.” She picked up a rolled piece of meat and bit into it.
Tariq settled on his side, legs crossed and his head propped up on his hand. “You know, you cannot run away all your life.”
“Okay, great wise Prince, then tell me why you’re not already married? A family man? From seeing you with Roji I know you love children.”
The conversation had taken a turn for the worse. Again. He should have known Laurel could give as good as she got. “I have not found the right person.”
“I looked you up. There have been a number of women who would have liked to be your wife.” Her smile was a teasing one.
“Do not believe everything you read, habibti.”
“You still haven’t answered my question about children.”
He sat up. “I will not have any. It is not hard to get a woman to forget about marrying you when she learns that. I would guess the articles you read did not tell you that.” For once the idea of never having children was painful. He looked at Laurel. She was the type of person who would make a wonderful caring mother. If only...
Tariq grabbed the bag and found his swimming trunks. He stood. “I am going for a swim. Come with me.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“I bought you one.” He pulled the bikini out of his pocket and dropped it on the blanket.
“I can’t wear that!”
“Suit yourself.” He gave her his best wicked grin. “You are always welcome to skinny dip. All I can tell you is that you are missing out if you do not come in.” Tariq did not wait on her but headed to the water. He needed to get away from Laurel’s probing questions and marshal his emotions. With his back to her he removed his pants and pulled on his swim trunks. He did not care about her sensibilities, he needed to swim.
He ran in up to his waist and threw himself headlong into the surf and a soothing rhythm of rapid strokes. When he had his libido in check he headed back to shore. Laurel came out of the crevice in the rocks with her shirt on and carrying her pants. Even from a distance he could appreciate her shapely legs. They were not long but he could imagine them tight around him. He needed to get control of the direction of his thoughts. He made a couple of deep, strong strokes as he watched her drop her pants on the blanket and walk to the water’s edge.
Tariq called, “Are you coming in?”
“Eventually.” She toyed with the hem of her shirt.
“It feels great.” To give Laurel a chance to get over her nervousness, he turned and swam a few more stokes. By the time he slowed she was in the water. He drifted toward her. She’d shed her top. Little of her pink bikini top was visible, but what he could see was enticing. “What made you decide to come in?”
“If I wanted to swim I either had to wear the bikini or my clothes. I decided I didn’t want to ride home in wet clothes. Especially if you had planned for us to stop along the way.”
“You are very logical, Doctor. The bikini looks quite nice on you.”
“What little there is of it!” She pulled on the straps, lifting what looked like lovely full breasts.
“From my vantage point you are very appealing.” Too much so for his comfort. Buying the bikini might have been one of his worse ideas.
“When you talk like that I don’t know whether or not to believe you. I think it might be the playboy Prince trying to charm me.”
He was not sure she was wrong. “Are you a strong swimmer?”
“I can hold my own. I don’t think you will have to save me.”
Tariq would like to have an excuse to do CPR on her. This allure Laurel had over him was not only irrational, it was exasperating.
She made strong, steady stokes as they moved out into deeper water. Soon they slowed and floated.
Tariq shook the water from his hair. “You swim well.”
She grinned. “It’s all those years on the swim team at the community club after school.”
“Now who is making fun of whom? I was assuring myself that I would not be in the papers for letting an American drown.”
“Maybe I was trying to get you back.” She swam away from him.
He followed. “What other hidden talents do you have?”
“I’m good at cards, paint some when I have time and read romance.”
“Romance? Interesting.” She just did not act on her romantic inclinations, it seemed.
“How about you?” She moved into sidestroke.
He did the same. “I like black and white movies, horses and American football.”
Laurel gave him an approving nod. “Interesting. I would have never guessed.”
As if in silent agreement, they started back to shore. Laurel l
agged behind. When he could stand he looked out at her as she trod water. “Are you coming out?”
She acted unsure. Suddenly her expression turned to one of determination. Standing, she walked toward him with shoulders high and eyes focused on a point behind him. His heart bumped against his ribs. There was too much of sexy Laurel to contemplate. Water ran over her skin in sensual streams. How would she react if he used his tongue and followed one of them up her neck? His manhood pulsed to life. Laurel needed to dress and they needed to leave this beach right now.
Tariq strode out of the water, grabbed his jeans off the sand and headed for their picnic spot. He quickly put their leftovers in the basket and set it aside. From the bag, he pulled out a towel for her. “Here. We need to change and go.”
She reached for the towel, looking insecure and confused. “Uh...okay. Is there some hurry?”
“You need to get out of the sun.”
“I could put on sunscreen.” She reached down for her ever-present bottomless bag.
“Laurel!”
She looked at him, her lush behind still in the air. “You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen in a bikini. What little there is of it I would like to remove and have you here under the sun.”
Her eyes went wide and her lips formed an O.
“I made a promise to you and I will keep it. To be friends. The problem is I am not feeling friendly right now. Get dressed, please. I will meet you at the car.”
He turned his back, fearing Laurel would see just how aroused he was. How was he going to keep his hands off her for the rest of the day?
* * *
Laurel grinned as she made her way to the rocks to change. The need to skip almost took over. She hadn’t missed Tariq’s physical reaction. Female satisfaction filled her. She’d actually caused that response in such a virile man. After years of feeling inadequate it was empowering to know she wielded such influence.
She quickly changed clothes, but was tempted the entire time to watch Tariq do the same where he stood out in the open. Only she didn’t want to get caught doing so. Pulling the band from her hair, she rubbed it dry. After rolling her nothing of a swimsuit in the towel, she headed for the car. Tariq waited.
“Your hair is down.” His words were almost reverent.
Laurel pushed it over her shoulder. “It needs to dry. I’ll put it up again when it does.”
“I like it this way.” He picked up a damp strand and let it glide over his fingers. “I’ve wondered more than once what you would look like with it loose. All freed and uninhibited.”
“You’ve wondered about my hair?”
He appeared mesmerized by the threads he held. “And more than that.”
Warmth crept through her that had nothing to do with the sun beating down.
Tariq’s gaze met hers. “You do something to me, Laurel.”
She did? Was he just putting her on? A man like Tariq didn’t go for women like her. If they did it was to win a bet. “You don’t sound glad about that.”
“I’m not. I hadn’t expected to feel about you the way I do.” He studied her a moment then leaned toward her, only to abruptly straighten and back away. “We need to go.”
Laurel blinked. Had he been about to kiss her? She almost staggered. That kiss she wanted. Could taste. Her body begged for it. “Okay.”
He opened the door of the car.
“May I drive?” she teased, sure he was too alpha male to let a woman drive him around.
“Sure. Pull out into the road so I can get in without twisting myself into a knot.”
Her mouth fell open. “You’re actually going to let me drive?”
He shrugged. “Why not? You are a good driver, are you not?”
She shrugged. “I like to think so.”
“Then there should not be a problem.” Tariq handed her the keys.
Laurel looked at them a second then took them. She couldn’t believe he trusted her enough to let her behind the wheel. She started the car and revved the engine. Sports cars had always appealed to her but she was too practical to buy one of her own. Then, too, as a research scientist she didn’t make the money to own one. She grinned at Tariq. He smiled back, obviously enjoying her having fun. Other than her father, she had never known a man who liked to see others happy as much as Tariq did. Most of the men she knew were more concerned with themselves.
She made a tight turn to the other side of the road. “Hey, handsome, you interested in riding with me?”
Tariq released a full-bodied laugh and jogged to the passenger door. “I think I might have agreed to a speed demon getting behind the wheel.” He climbed in. “Please be kind to me and my car.”
“I plan to be.” She gave him her best suggestive grin. Who was this risqué woman she was turning into?
As she drove off Tariq said in an odd tone, “I may hold you to that.”
The car was as sweet to drive as it was in looks. Tariq appeared relaxed. He had shifted so he sat turned toward her with one arm along the door and the other resting across the back of their seats, his fingertips touching her shoulder.
“This is fun.” Laurel glanced at him. He watched her and not the road. What was he thinking behind those dark glasses?
“I’m glad you like it.” His voice held pleasure, as if he was enjoying hers.
“A car like this, if I could afford it, isn’t practical where I live. Too much snow and wind.” She could imagine what she would look like driving a low-slung car in three feet of snow.
“You live here now. You are welcome to drive mine anytime you wish. A husband should share with his wife.”
That sounded too generous. “You would do that?”
“Of course. Or we could get you your own.”
“I won’t be here long enough to justify having a car like this.”
“So you are still intending to return to the States when we are both satisfied the lab is running as it should?” Tariq straightened and took his arm down from behind her.
“Or until I receive new funding.”
“What I remember is that you said that but I didn’t agree. You are needed here.”
* * *
Laurel glanced Tariq’s direction. His mouth was drawn into a tight line. “There are others that can do what you need as well as I can.”
“I am not sure that is true.” The words were sharper than she had heard from him in some time.
“If you could locate a replacement, I could train him or her. It would also assure that when I leave you won’t be left without someone to fill the position.” She couldn’t stay here forever. This wasn’t her home and she was becoming far too attached to Tariq. That couldn’t continue. He’d made it clear today that he didn’t plan to marry or have children, both of which were important to her.
Tariq said nothing more.
Laurel concentrated on the road, but then stomped on the brakes. A man dressed in a well-worn full shirt and baggy pants stood in the middle of the road, waving his arms above his head, yelling something in Arabic. Before she could pull off the road Tariq was out of the car and running toward the man. They spoke rapidly. The man started up a path.
Tariq moved to follow while calling over his shoulder, “Bring my medical bag. It is behind the driver’s seat.”
He didn’t wait for her to answer and started after the man.
Laurel pulled off the road as far as the shoulder would allow. She climbed out and found the bag. With it in her hand, she made her way up the narrow, steep and rocky trail with grass growing knee-high on the sides. Tariq and the man were nowhere in sight but she kept moving as fast as she could. The way was clearly visible but difficult to maneuver.
She reached a small, level pasture. From there Laurel could see Tariq’s back in the distance as he ran under some mushroom-shaped trees. She picked up her pace and kept moving. Soo
n she entered the olive grove and moments later she came out into a small opening.
There stood a small single-level white house with a red clay tile roof. Beside it was a pen with a goat in it. Tariq ducked his head to enter a door in the middle of the building. She headed that way. At the entrance she paused, not wanting to barge into someone’s home. After giving the door a quick knock, she continued into the dim interior.
It was a one-room house with a kitchen area to one side and on the other a sitting and bedroom space. The place was neat and smelled slightly of smoke. Tariq and the man spoke rapidly in Arabic in the far corner where the bed was located. A colorful blanket hung from the ceiling as a room divider. Laurel joined them, placing the bag on the end of the bed.
When there was a pause in the conversation Laurel asked Tariq, “What’s wrong?”
“His wife has not felt good for a few days. She passed out. He moved her to the bed before he went for help. He was walking to the nearest neighbor.” Tariq opened the bag and pulled out a stethoscope.
“I’ll check her temperature and blood pressure.” Laurel found the thermometer and BP cuff.
Tariq spoke to the man again and he stepped back, giving Lauren and Tariq room to work.
Laurel stood beside Tariq. “Temperature one hundred and three point seven.” Lifting the woman’s arm, Laurel positioned the blood-pressure cuff. Tariq handed her the stethoscope, which she placed in her ears and found the woman’s pulse. “BP is one-eighty over ninety.”
Tariq continued to examine the woman as he said, “She should be taken to the hospital but there is no phone service. Since we can’t, we should give her a thorough exam and see what we can find.”
“Agreed.” Laurel looked around. The one small window on that side of the room offered little help. “The light is bad.”
He said something to the man, who nodded and hurried to the kitchen. “I asked if he had any candles.” Tariq pushed the curtain against the wall as far as it would go. “You will need to do most of the examination. These older people consider their privacy and especially that of their women important. Husbands do not allow other men to touch their wife.”