The Sheikh Doc's Marriage Bargain

by Susan Carlisle

  After the horses had finished, they tied them up nearby and Tariq removed a small bag from the pack horse. They took seats on rocks near the pool. He removed some packets that included crackers, fruit and nuts, and handed them to her.

  “There should be some bottles of water in here. There they are.” Tariq handed one to her. “How are you doing?”

  “It must show I’ve not ridden in a long time and even then, not much. Astor’s a nice horse.”

  “I trained her myself.”

  Did the man’s talents never end? “You did a wonderful job. How much further do we have to go?”

  “At least another two hours. For the rest of the way I want you to be sure and stay right behind the pack horse. If you were to stray off the path it could be dangerous. Understood?”

  She took a drink of the water. “Yes.”

  They finished their meal in silence and as soon as they were finished Tariq took her trash and stuffed it back into the bag. “If you are ready, we should go.”

  Laurel joined him at the horses. She winced at the thought of getting on again.

  “Do you need help up?”

  “No, I’ve got it.”

  “Aha, is that newfound confidence I hear?”

  “Something like that.” Laurel swung her leg over Astor and groaned.

  They continued to travel. Tariq had not exaggerated his description of the landscape. They made one switchback after another, the going becoming harder all the time. When Laurel feared it would never end, they circled a large bolder and below them was a green valley with a stream running through it.

  Tariq called over his shoulder, “We have arrived.”

  From the sky the village wouldn’t have been visible because it blended in with the mountains and the landscape. The tents were the type with a high center pole and four corner ones, making the canvas look much like a circus tent.

  “How did you know where to come?”

  Tariq said over his shoulder, “Because in the spring this is where the tribe comes.”

  As they rode down there was a sudden shout and people came out of tents and left what they were doing to form a group. A thrill and trepidation raced through her. This was nothing she had any experience with. It was like going back in time.

  “Were they expecting us?”

  “Word travels even this far into the mountains. My countrymen live simply but they are not ignorant of the world.”

  As they rode in, people circled Tariq, trying to touch him. He dismounted and came to help her down. She wobbled and Tariq brought her against him. His warm musk smell surrounded her, making her feel more alive, further aware of his masculinity. She shivered.

  “Nothing to fear. They are just excited to see us.”

  She stepped away. “I’m not afraid.”

  The crowd parted and an elderly man hobbled toward them. He said something in Arabic and bowed his head. Tariq responded then placed a hand on her shoulder as he spoke.

  A sound of awe rose from the crowd.

  Tariq said to her, “I told them that you are my wife. This is the leader of this tribe. He has welcomed us.” The old man spoke again. Tariq translated. “He says they will have a celebration in honor of our marriage.”

  Once again she and Tariq were lying to people. She hated it but there was no way out of it now.

  She forced a smile. “Please tell him thank you from me.”

  Tariq and the tribal leader lapsed into a discussion. When they had finished, Tariq took Astor’s reins and handed them to a young man standing nearby who already held Turo’s. Tariq then went to the pack horse and removed his medical bag. He returned to her and placing a hand at her waist he directed her toward the leader, who had started walking away.

  “My great-aunt is very ill. She is too weak to greet us. He is taking us to her.”

  Laurel looked at him. “The one I want to speak to?”

  “The very one.”

  The leader stopped in front of a tent and nodded before moving on. Tariq held the tent flap back for Laurel to pass.

  “You go first. She will not know who I am.”

  Tariq preceded her. She entered right behind him. The tent was lit by one large oil lamp hanging from the center pole. On a low bed of pillows lay a shrunken woman. Two women sat on either side of her. Tariq went to her, going down on his knees. He spoke softly then motioned Laurel forward.

  “Belica says it is nice to meet the new Princess. She is surprised you are from another culture but wishes you happiness. She is willing to answer your questions.”

  “Please tell her it’s nice to meet her as well. That I appreciate her willingness to help.”

  Tariq opened his bag. “Before we start the questions I am going to examine her.”

  Laurel stood by patiently while Tariq took the woman’s vitals and checked her abdominal area. He soon finished. Over the next few minutes Laurel asked the same questions of Tariq’s aunt as she had of him.

  When the woman closed her eyes, Tariq stood and took Laurel’s hand. “That is enough for now.”

  They exited the tent. The same young man who had led their horses away waited nearby. He bowed and spoke to Tariq.

  “This way. Our tent is ready.” Tariq followed the man.

  “Tent? As we are staying together?”

  Tariq looked at her. “Remember, we are married.”

  She couldn’t think of a time she’d forgotten. “I’m well aware of that.”

  They were taken to a large tent off to one side.

  “Whose is this? Are we taking someone’s home?” Unease built in Laurel at the thought of sharing such close quarters with Tariq.

  The man left them.

  Tariq sweep his arm out indicating she should enter. “It was put up just for us when they heard we were coming. We will also hold clinic here.”

  Inside the tent looked much as Tariq’s aunt’s had with the exception of the bright multicolored rug completely covering the floor. Piles of large pillows were set in a number of places. Off to the side was a low bed of pillows. Colorful draped material hung from the ceiling around it. The place looked as if the tribe had made an extra effort to make the space special. “I can see they go all out for royalty.”

  “This is to honor you. When I have been here before I have had a simple tent or stayed with my aunt.”

  Outside her family no one had ever made her feel included. The people of Zentar, even these simple mountain people, had worked their way into her heart. “It is beautiful. Like something out of the Arabian Nights.”

  Tariq went to the stack of supplies that had been placed in a corner near the entrance. He picked up her bag, offering it to her. She took it. Again he looked through the supplies and came out with a tube of cream. “You will find a fresh water basin on the other side of the bed.” He gave her the tube. “You must be saddle sore. This will help. Food will be brought to us tonight. I have to go and speak to the leader about the clinic. I will return soon.” Without a backward look, he left her.

  Tariq had dreamed more than once of having Laurel to himself and tonight he would. But in those dreams he had her coming to him by choice, not because she had to share the same space with him. He could not go elsewhere to sleep because that would shame her in the eyes of the people. The best he could do was stay on the other side of the tent and pretend she was miles away. But that was never going to happen.

  When he had insisted they marry he’d believed it would be no problem for him. He’d had zero personal interest in Laurel. Had not thought it would be an issue or change his life in any way. Nothing could be further from the truth. She had turned his world upside down. Where his life had revolved around his work, now he thought of nothing but Laurel. Surely if he could get her out of his system he could move on. Then he could look into finding someone to replace her, as she had suggested.


  None of that solved his current difficulty of sharing a tent for the night with her and keeping his hands to himself. He would make it happen somehow. There was a promise between them. She deserved better than the way she had been treated before by a man. He refused to be considered part of that attitude.

  Tariq returned to the tent to find Laurel asleep on the bed. He was both relieved and disappointed. She must be exhausted. They had had an early morning and it had been a long ride. Laurel had been amazing. For someone who had lived so closed off from the world she had not complained once. She never stopped astonishing him.

  He had taken the time to freshen up in the stream instead of coming straight back to the tent in the hope the cold mountain water would settle his raging desire. Tariq looked at Laurel; unfortunately it had not worked.

  A noise outside the tent entrance led him to look there. One of the village women held a tray of food in her hands. Tariq beckoned her in. She placed the tray on the low chest and left. Tariq debated whether or not to wake Laurel. Before he could make a decision, she rose.

  “Tariq? Is that you?”

  Laurel had changed her clothes. Now she wore a simple sundress with a flannel shirt over it, tied at her waist. He almost groaned out loud when he saw her hair down around her shoulders. It shined in the lamplight. He was in trouble.

  “You may want to put on heavier clothes. It will get cool tonight.”

  “I will. I’m starving now. Didn’t I see someone bring a tray in?”

  “You did. Come, we should eat.” That was a safer subject than talking about her clothing.

  “I’m ravenous.”

  Tariq knew the feeling. He picked up a couple of large pillows. Placing one on the right side of the temporary table, he threw the other on the floor across from it. “Our meal awaits.”

  Along with the food there was a bottle of wine.

  Tariq reclined on his side on a pillow and she sat cross-legged on hers as they ate their meal of basic but substantial food.

  “So what’re the plans for tomorrow?” Laurel bit into a date.

  How like Laurel to have to have her days planned. “You don’t like surprises, do you?”

  Laurel pursed her lips for a second then said, “If they are good ones.”

  “I think I will save my good surprises for another occasion. We will start seeing patients in the morning. Some will come from neighboring villages as well. I do not anticipate any challenges. Most of the issues will require simple care. If someone needs to have their clothes removed or we think there is a sensitive issue then we will bring them inside the tent. I will need to see the men and you the women.”

  For the same reason she was technically married to Tariq they would be seeing patients in the traditional way. If she were truly his wife, Laurel would make it a mission to change that thinking.

  “The language barrier will cause some difficulty. I will do triage and let you know what the issue is. You can handle it from there.”

  So now she was being relegated to being an assistant. Once again, she wished she knew some Arabic. “Is there no one who speaks some English here?”

  Tariq’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why?”

  “I would like to work beside you, not for you.” Who had she turned into? She hadn’t ever made a habit of being aggressive until now. Most of her life she’d spent trying to blend in, causing no trouble. The idea that she had only started the assertive phase of her life with Tariq and the Zentaran people made her shudder.

  “I can ask. You are right. You have proved over and over you are qualified. You should act as my equal. It would be good for the people to see that.”

  Heat flashed through her. He had captured her heart completely with that statement. She had never had higher praise from someone she admired more. Heaven help her, she was falling for Tariq. She looked away, hoping he wouldn’t see how she felt. She murmured, “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome. I should have been the one to suggest it.” He popped a grape into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

  Laurel glanced at him. Those dark eyes had become hooded. She wanted to know what he was thinking. Then again maybe she didn’t. What was she going to do? She had to get past this feeling. It had to go away. For days she’d been fighting against it. Maybe by the time they returned to Zentar City her funding would have come through. Sharing her research findings with Zentar would be part of the condition of her work. She would not leave the people, or the person, she’d grown to care about out of the equation.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes. Tariq broke it with, “Tomorrow night the village will honor us with a dinner and celebration.”

  That she didn’t need. Her fake marriage honored. It was difficult enough with how she felt about Tariq but to have it celebrated when he didn’t feel the same way was too much. “You know I don’t feel good about misleading the people.”

  “We aren’t doing that because we are married.” He didn’t act concerned at all.

  Laurel concentrated on her food. “You know that’s in name only as well as I do.”

  “What is done is done. I will not insult them by refusing, and I will not let you either.” He rose. “It is late. I will clean up and set this tray outside so you can get ready for bed. I will stay on a pallet on the floor for the night.”

  Laurel didn’t question him further. His tone told her clearly the discussion was closed.

  A few minutes later Tariq took a deep breath and entered the tent again. This would be the longest night of his life. He was tired, but not enough to keep Laurel’s desirable body out of his mind. She had put him in his place about his plans for the next day. It seemed she had a talent for doing that. Few dared to try, and even fewer managed to do so. He needed more of that in his life. Someone who challenged him, made him look at ideas and situations differently. He liked Laurel too much. Slowly she had seeped into his world and started changing it. Could he ask her to stay forever? Make their marriage real? Did he want to?

  No. He had promised himself a long time ago that he would not take a wife. Nothing had changed. He did not deserve happiness with his brothers’ families dealing with hemophilia every day of their lives. Even if he considered Laurel a wife in every sense of the word, he wanted no children. Could he ask her to forgo them? It was best they keep their relationship business and not cross the line.

  Laurel was already in bed with her back to him when he returned. A pile of pillows was arranged on the floor into a bed, with two blankets nearby.

  He smiled. When had someone who was not paid to last taken care of him? “Thank you, habibti.”

  * * *

  Tariq had no idea what time it was when he woke up to groaning and the chattering of teeth. What was going on? The lamp had burned low but he could make out Laurel curled into a ball beneath the covers.

  Tariq shivered as he climbed out of bed. He reached for one of his blankets and placed it over Laurel.

  “Tariq? I’m freezing.” Her teeth chattered. “Keep me warm.”

  She didn’t have to ask him twice. Thankfully he had pulled on baggy pants to sleep in so she would not be shocked by his nudity in the morning. He grabbed the other blanket off his bed and threw it over her before he slipped under the covers and pulled her against him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LAUREL’S COOL CHEEK rubbed against his chest and her arm circled his waist as she snuggled against him. “You’re so warm.”

  Tariq had gone from chilled to hot faster than his car could change gear. Getting into bed with Laurel might have been one of the worst decisions of his life, but it was by far the most pleasant. His arms wrapped around her. She was so tiny compared to him. His fingers slid over slick material. What was she wearing? Hadn’t he told her to wear something warm?

  She laid a leg over one of his, draping herself along him. How he was supposed to get thr
ough the rest of the night without having Laurel, he had no idea. She smelled of fresh air, clean water and desirable woman. Every part of him reached out to her. His manhood, large and needy, twitched with eagerness to find a home, yet Tariq lay there. He had promised. Laurel was the one who had to make the move.

  A few minutes later her body stopped quaking.

  “Mmm, you feel so good.” Her hand drifted over his chest. His breath caught. She paused to tease the hair in the middle. A finger moved up to trace his beard before she cupped his jaw. “You’re the finest-looking man I have ever seen.”

  “Laurel? Do you know what you are doing?”

  “Dreaming?” Her hand traveled across his shoulder.

  Tariq chuckled softly. “Then I am as well.”

  “You have dreamed of being like this with me?” Her breath floated across his skin, causing it to ripple.

  “That I have, habibti.”

  Her hand stopped moving. “What is that you keep calling me?”

  His gaze met hers. “My darling...person of my heart.”

  “I am your darling?” She sounded very doubtful.

  “Almost from the moment I met you.”

  “I’ve never been someone’s darling. I like it.” Her hand returned to his chest to draw circles. “Will you say it again?”

  “Habibti.” Tariq pulled her tighter for a second then released her. “As much as I enjoy holding you, I hurt with the need to have you. I cannot remain here like this. I promised not to pressure you. So if you are warm now, I will go.” Being a gentleman might kill him. He would have to dress and spend the rest of the night outside.

  “And if I ask you to stay?”

  “I will—but know that I will also make you my wife in every sense of the word.”

  * * *

  Heat roared through Laurel at the urgent note in Tariq’s voice. His intent he’d made perfectly clear. He would hold nothing back if she invited him to stay. She couldn’t resist the idea of removing an ugly memory and replacing it with a beautiful one. With Tariq she was sure lovemaking would be perfect and precious. A pleasure she could treasure for a long time after she had left Zentar. She refused to continue to miss out on something wonderful out of fear.