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Mending the Single Dad's Heart

Page 17

by Susanne Hampton


  “Dr. Martin, I would like you to come to Zentar with me.”

  “What?” she yelped, leaping to her feet. Had this man lost his mind? Why had Stewart allowed this crazy person into their lab?

  The Prince raised his hand. “Just hear me out for a moment. Please.”

  Laurel eased back into her chair more from shock than trying to please him. She glanced at the door.

  “I assure you, you are safe. What I meant to say is that I would like to offer you a position. And chance to further your research.”

  Laurel shook her head in confusion. That sounded completely different than his earlier statement. She already had a place to do research, one in which she was very close to a breakthrough. Her family lived near. She already had a settled and secure life and cared nothing about working somewhere else. Where was Zentar anyway? She had no intention of going anywhere with a stranger. “Thank you, but I already have a position here.”

  “I understand you are the top researcher in the field of hemophilia. I am the Minister of Health for Zentar. I have overseen the building of a state-of-the-art laboratory. I intend for my country to be a leader in finding a cure for hemophilia.”

  Really. That was interesting. She couldn’t help but have her curiosity piqued.

  “I have vetted you and you come with the highest of recommendations.”

  “Thank you but I have no idea who you are.” Why was the Prince of some nation she’d never heard of focusing on hemophilia? “I appreciate your confidence in me but I’m happy here.” She wasn’t the adventurous type and she’d had that fact driven home in no uncertain terms. The idea of even living in another state, much less some far-flung country, terrified her. “I don’t even know where Zentar is.”

  Finally, there was a spark of emotion in those dark penetrating eyes. Was it pride? “It’s an island in the Arabian Sea. We have beautiful white beaches and stark mountains that are amazing in their own right. We are a small independently wealthy country and progressive in many aspects. My brother, the King, worked hard to make it so. Still, we remain very traditional in others.”

  What would it be like to have a man talk about her with that same admiration? She shook that shocking idea away. “It sounds nice but I have my work here.”

  He leaned forward. “I can offer you anything you desire. The best of equipment, assistants and endless funding.”

  “But why me? Why hemophilia?”

  He paused, looked away from her so long she felt uncomfortable. “I have my reasons.” That sounded like a dismissal more than a confession.

  Laurel started to rise.

  His expression still remained shadowy when he turned back to her. “Hemophilia is a problem in my country.”

  Laurel now knew what drove him. “I see.”

  Those eyes pierced her with a look. “I am not sure you do. In my country the number of children born with the disease is increasing. As the Minister of Health I must find out why. You can help me.”

  Apparently he’d believed she would accept without question but it wasn’t going to happen. Just the idea of getting on a plane made her shudder. She could not and would not pick up her entire life and move to a faraway country. “I can’t go.”

  “Is there something keeping you here?” His brows formed a V.

  “No.”

  “Then why not?” He watched her too closely.

  “I don’t fly.”

  His silent steady examination lasted a heartbeat too long. “Ever?”

  “More like never.”

  “You would be taking my private plane. Every luxury would be afforded you. All I ask is that you come and have a look at our facility. Then you could decide.”

  Laurel appreciated him thinking so highly of her but she had no interest in going to Zentar. She wasn’t a daring person. Her work, her life, her security was here. She stood and he did as well. “Thank you for the offer but I cannot accept. So I really shouldn’t waste any more of your time. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my lab now.”

  The Prince’s lips thinned and his eyes were emotionless again, more telling than if they had held some. She’d just refused a man who was clearly used to getting his way. It took a great deal of willpower, but she stepped between the chairs into his personal space. A whiff of his citrus aftershave tickled her nose. A shiver ran along her spine as she hurried to the door. She was unsure if her body’s reaction was in response to his close proximity or from the irritation gusting off him.

  “Dr. Martin.”

  Laurel turned.

  In a low, even voice he informed her, “I make a point of getting what I want.”

  * * *

  That evening in his hotel suite Tariq poured himself a finger of whiskey. Perplexed, he pondered where his interview with Dr. Martin had gone awry. She had proved intelligent, but more than that she was forthright to a fault. He rather liked that quality in a person. Few people he was around did not have an agenda and said what they meant. Dr. Martin had impressed him with her directness. More than that, she had dared to refuse him!

  To his great vexation her shy green eyes had captivated him, too. Behind those silver wire-rimmed glasses they had been wide and clear, as if they had never hidden a secret. Otherwise she was a nondescript slip of a woman. He was both irritated and intrigued. In his world, no one other than the king would tell him no, yet a wallflower doctor who lived most of her life closed up in a glass laboratory had done so. He was confounded. What had gone wrong in the meeting he’d so carefully planned? Worse, why did that haunted look he’d glimpsed in her eyes before she’d come out of the lab still disturb him?

  Leaning back in his chair, Tariq stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles, swirling the transparent copper-colored liquid in his glass. He’d done his homework. In fact, he’d even called a couple of research facilities to verify she was the person he should focus his efforts on. It had never occurred to him she would turn down his offer. What research scientist wouldn’t want to head their own lab and have access to all the funding they wanted? Apparently he had overlooked some pertinent fact about Dr. Martin. He didn’t have a Plan B formulated but by evening’s end he would. He wanted Dr. Martin in Zentar and he would have her.

  After his brother’s death in a car accident, Tariq had taken over the responsibility of his sister-in-law’s and Roji’s welfare. Tariq would give anything to have Roji grow up with his father there. That wouldn’t happen now, but if Tariq had anything to do with it no more of his family would have to endure what Roji would. The future members of the royal family would be free of hemophilia. The cure was out there and he’d built a lab in which to find it. Now he needed the right person to lead it, and that was Dr. Martin.

  He would never put a wife and child in the same position as Zara and Roji. Despite being the only male in his family who did not have the malformed gene, he refused to take the chance on having a family. He didn’t deserve one when the others had to deal with the disease. As a doctor he understood that the ailment was thought to be passed by the female. What if he picked the wrong woman? He already lived with enough guilt.

  As a small child he had seen the suffering his brothers had gone through. Always having to have intravenous injections of replacement factor after an injury. Yet that had not helped his brother when the bleeding could not be stopped after the accident. Even with his fancy Harvard medical degree, Tariq had still been unable to save his brother’s life. That weight became heavier with each passing day.

  Medical advances were being made but not fast enough. Now Roji took the IV factor every three days prophylactically. Still a boy should be able to run and play and have no worries. Tariq wanted that for his family and others with the disease. To do that he needed Dr. Martin, yet she’d made it clear she had no interest in his offer. He must come up with some way of convincing her, make her an offer she could not refuse. Besid
es, he never took no for an answer when he had his mind made up.

  He had some phone calls to make. Dr. Martin must have something she wanted badly enough that he could use it to make her agree.

  * * *

  Two days later Laurel picked up the phone in her lab on the second ring.

  “Laurel, when you can get away I need to see you in my office,” Stewart said.

  Was the Prince back? She’d thought of little else since his visit. For some reason he’d stuck with her. It wasn’t as if she would ever see him again yet he’d had an effect on her. “Okay, I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

  She knocked lightly then entered Stewart’s office. They’d had a strong, friendly relationship since she had joined the lab staff five years earlier. Stewart had always left her to do her work and she’d appreciated that.

  “What’s up?” Laurel asked, both relieved and disappointed the Prince wasn’t there. She took the same chair she had sat in during that interview. This time the office felt less suffocating. Stewart didn’t generate the larger-than-life aura the Prince possessed.

  “This isn’t good news, I’m afraid. The grant was denied.”

  Laurel’s heart and hopes plunged into despair. “Your work was an add-on here. I’m sorry, you can’t continue.” Sympathy rang throughout each of Stewart’s words.

  Laurel couldn’t breathe. Her heart fluttered. Her life’s work. What was she going to do? She might have been hit in the chest for all her ability to say a word. She groaned. A breakthrough was so close. “Why, Stewart? I almost have an answer. My research is important.”

  The older man nodded his head in understanding, his eyes filled with compassion. “I know. But others’ work is equally important. Money is always an issue where research is concerned. You know that.”

  “Isn’t there some other way?” There must be. Lives were at stake. “I can’t stop now. I’m too close.”

  “As much as I hate to say it, it’s not going to happen at this lab.” He paused.

  She leaned toward him. “This isn’t right! What about the people I’m trying to save?”

  “I wish I could tell you there might be hope down another avenue but I would only be giving you false hope. Maybe you should consider the Prince’s offer after all. From what I understand, it was an impressive one. It might not be too late.”

  Her face twisted in disbelief. She couldn’t do that! Travel to a foreign land with a stranger. Where she knew no one.

  She leaned forward and gripped the edge of the desk. “Isn’t there something else you can do?”

  “As of right now, no. I would hate to lose you, but the best I could do is put you on another project.”

  This couldn’t be happening. Panic welled in her. The timing seemed off. The Prince had shown up and the next thing she’d learned was that she no longer had funding. He’d made it clear he got what he wanted. No, he didn’t have that much clout. She narrowed her eyes at Stewart. “The Prince didn’t have anything to do with this, did he?”

  “Not that I know of. I’m sure he knows people on the committee, though. You know most researchers would be glad to be offered such a wonderful opportunity.”

  “I don’t want to move. I know nothing about Zentar or Prince Tariq. I’m a home body.”

  “Maybe it’s time you stepped out of the bubble. Just think what you could do with all that research money at your disposal. A chance like that doesn’t come along more than once in a lifetime.”

  Phrased like that, she had a hard time disagreeing. If only it wasn’t so far away. And she wasn’t so affected by the Prince. She would have to guard herself where he was concerned. She had no intention of repeating her mistakes. “I like the way things are.”

  “I know you do, but maybe it’s time for a change. For you to get out of the lab and live a little. This could be your golden chance. Sometimes change can be a good thing.” Stewart was looking and sounding like the father figure she privately considered him to be.

  “I don’t want adventure or change. I want to find a way to help hemophiliacs.”

  Stewart looked over the rim of his black glasses at her. “You do realize the Prince is offering you an opportunity to do just that? You could go until funding comes through.”

  Could she do it? Step out of her comfort zone? She had done it once before in college and still wore the scars. Yet she was so close. Only months away from finding the key to unlocking the secret to the gene. With the Prince’s offer it might be sooner. She really wasn’t left much choice. Laurel looked at Stewart for a long moment before releasing a resigned sigh. “Do you know how to get in touch with the Prince?”

  * * *

  Tariq had been expecting Dr. Martin’s call. He had known the night before she would not be receiving her funding. He had done nothing to make her lose it but he could not say he was not pleased. What he had done was put the word out that she had funding elsewhere so that no one else would step in and she would have to turn to him.

  “Mr. Al Marktum...uh... Prince, this is Dr. Laurel Martin.”

  “Yes.”

  She sounded out of breath. “I...uh...was wondering if you were still looking for someone to oversee your lab?”

  “I am.” He waited.

  “I might be interested after all. And I’d like to meet to discuss it.” The words came out fast as if she was hurrying so not to stop herself.

  “I am flying out first thing in the morning so we will need to talk tonight.”

  “I guess that’ll have to work.”

  She sounded unsure. Was she reconsidering? He could not have her do that. Tariq leaned back in his chair. “I’m at the Chicago Hotel. Come up to the Presidential Suite. We will not be disturbed while we talk.”

  There was silence.

  “I can tell by the pause that you are thinking of refusing. I would suggest the bar but I think it will be noisy and I do not know the area well enough to propose another place. My assistant is with me so you will be safely chaperoned.”

  “I don’t require a chaperone. I’ll be glad to meet you.”

  He smiled slightly. Had she bolstered herself to make that statement? “If you say so.”

  “I’ll see you in an hour.”

  “I look forward to it, Dr. Martin.”

  As good as her word, one of his bodyguards announced her arrival right on time. That alone he could appreciate about her.

  Meeting Dr. Martin at the door, he escorted her across the room to one of the two sofas in the center. She was a tiny thing. Not tall and leggy like the women he usually found attractive. He mentally shook his head. This was a business meeting. He needed her to run his lab and that was it. The color of her eyes or the length of her legs did not matter. “May I get you something to drink?”

  “No, thank you, I’m fine.” She shifted her large bag cross her like it was a shield.

  “Please, sit.”

  Dr. Martin gave him a timid nod, then took a seat next to the arm of the sofa. She looked as though if he said boo she would run. That did not matter. What did was how good she was at her job. Tariq sat on the sofa across from her and crossed one ankle over the knee of his other leg. It was time to get down to business. “I understand you want to talk about my job offer.”

  “Uh... I wanted to see if you’d consider a compromise on the position you offered me.”

  “I’m listening.” He watched her. Her hair remained tightly pulled back and her glasses had slipped down her nose. She wore almost nondescript clothing and the big black bag remained hugged to her chest. Not a single piece of jewelry was visible. She seemed to dress not to be noticed. Did this woman live in a hole and crawl out to go to work in a lab?

  “I have lost my funding. I was wondering if you’d consider putting funds into the lab here where I can continue my work with the understanding that your country would have first access
to any of my findings.”

  He stared, shaking his head before she’d even finished. “That will not do. I want someone working in my country. With my people.”

  Her voice contained a tight, desperate tone. “But I can’t do that.”

  “Why? I will see you have a place to live. A driver. All the comforts.” He leaned forward, watching her closely. She did have interesting eyes. There were tiny flakes of gold in them.

  “I can’t just fly off to some place I don’t know.”

  “We have already had this discussion. I am offering you a chance to continue your research. I do not think you will be disappointed in the lab I have set up. Wouldn’t you like to continue your research?”

  She tightened her arms around her bag. “I would. It’s important. I’m very close to a breakthrough.”

  Laurel wasn’t sure to what he was referring. She wasn’t planning to stop her research. Her new discovery was so close. Did he know something she didn’t? Quitting now would be impossible. She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you asking that?”

  “It was you who came to me saying that you needed funds to continue your work.”

  “That doesn’t mean that I am giving up. I can’t. I’m too close to an advance. I’ll find funding somewhere since you won’t consider providing it.”

  “I am sorry, I cannot. My funds are my people’s. I don’t have any to give you.”

  He must be a wealthy man. After all he was a prince. “You don’t have personal funds that could be used?”

  “I do not. They were invested in the lab. You should reconsider coming to Zentar.”

  She glared at him as panic grew. Why couldn’t he understand? “I cannot. I have explained that.”

  “I have only heard excuses. I have what you need. You no longer have a lab to work in here and I am offering you one. I do not understand the problem. Perhaps you do not care as much as you say you do.”

 

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