From shy Cinderella...

To convenient princess!

For sensible Dr. Laurel Martin, heading up a new lab for royal doc Sheikh Tariq Al Marktum is the chance to conduct the study of a lifetime. But to protect Laurel from the scandal her presence in his palace will cause, Tariq has his own condition—a paper marriage! Swept into his desert kingdom, passion overtakes the convenient couple, but can Laurel find her place in Tariq’s world—and his heart?

SUSAN CARLISLE’s love affair with books began in the sixth grade, when she made a bad grade in mathematics. Not allowed to watch TV until she’d brought the grade up, Susan filled her time with books. She turned her love of reading into a passion for writing, and now has over ten Medical Romances published through Mills & Boon. She writes about hot, sexy docs and the strong women who captivate them. Visit SusanCarlisle.com.

Also by Susan Carlisle

Married for the Boss’s Baby

White Wedding for a Southern Belle

The Doctor’s Sleigh Bell Proposal

The Surgeon’s Cinderella

Stolen Kisses with Her Boss

Christmas with the Best Man

Redeeming the Rebel Doc

The Brooding Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell

A Daddy Sent by Santa

Nurse to Forever Mum

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Sheikh Doc’s Marriage Bargain

Susan Carlisle

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08993-7

THE SHEIKH DOC’S MARRIAGE BARGAIN

© 2019 Susan Carlisle

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

DR. LAUREL MARTIN placed the test tube into the rack with great care, her pulse racing in anticipation. This could be it. The breakthrough she’d devoted her career to finding. The process to stop the mutation in the factor IX gene in the X chromosome. If it could be tested for during pregnancy and corrected then thousands of lives could be changed, in some cases even saved. The key was discovering that link.

To find the answer she had to have funding. That money was difficult to come by. She’d already been put on notice that hers was running out. Still she held out hope that would change. She’d submitted another grant application and should hear about it any day.

The study of hemophilia had become her life’s calling. In medical school it hadn’t taken her long to realize her comfort zone didn’t include interacting with patients and their loved ones. She didn’t like to tell them bad news. Being an introvert further hindered her ability to do so. Research had become her safe spot.

A tap on her lab window drew her attention. She pushed up her goggles in an effort to adjust them on her nose. Stewart, the director of the lab, stood on the other side of the glass. His medium height was dwarfed by the tall, lean man standing beside him.

Oh, my. Laurel’s heart jumped then adjusted. She stared. The stranger was gorgeous. She hadn’t had that type of reaction to a man in years. Not since college when she’d first seen her ex-boyfriend, Larry. A college football player, he’d been shockingly good looking as well. She’d learned the hard way that good looks didn’t always equate with being a kind person.

The man beside Stewart looked as if he might be of Middle Eastern decent. His skin had a warm pecan tint as if he spent a great amount of time in the sun. His proud bearing gave him an aura of authority, as if he knew his place in the world and had no trouble holding it. The black tailored suit jacket covering his broad shoulders matched his hair and his equally dark, meticulously groomed beard screamed wealth and power. His gaze locked with hers.

To her surprise his eyes weren’t like ink. Instead they were chestnut, reminding her of the color of a racing stallion she’d seen once as a girl. One of his well-shaped brows rose slightly as if he suspected the effect he had on women and wasn’t surprised by her reaction.

His look bored into hers, making her feel like one of her petri dish specimens under a microscope. The devil of it was, he was the kind of man she’d always been attracted to. The type of male who had always looked past her mousy, too-serious and impossibly intelligent personality in favor of a tall blonde, with perky breasts, long legs and an engaging giggle that stood just behind her. Laurel was wallpaper and his sort was interested in the chandeliers.

Men like him didn’t seriously consider her worth noticing. The one time someone had, she’d been traumatized. Larry had damaged her that much. So much so she’d sworn off men and had stuck to that vow for ten years. Long enough to become so absorbed in her work she had little life outside it. Laurel mentally shook her head. None of that had anything to do with the man before her.

The wave of Stewart’s hand, indicating he wanted her to come out of the lab, drew her attention away from the arresting stranger. Laurel checked her test tubes again and pushed the rack further away from the edge of the table before rolling her chair back. She exited the room door with a swish of the airlock seal behind her. In the outer room she removed her goggles and adjusted her glasses. She pulled her mask, gloves and gown off, leaving her in a simple round neck T-shirt and jeans.

Shrugging into her starched lab coat, she touched the bun at the back of her head, making sure it was in place. She glanced over her shoulder. The stranger’s intense gaze remained on her. A ripple of heat went through her, disconcerting her even more. What was he seeing? Thinking?

Shaking off the response, she moved with cool proficiency into the main lab. It wasn’t until she’d almost reached the men that she noticed the two larger ones standing a few paces behind the man. How had she missed those intimidating figures? Because she’d been so absorbed by her reaction to the man front and center. These guys were larger, with bulkier shoulders and had even grimmer faces, if that was possible. Their hands were clasped in front of them and legs apart as if ready to move into action. Who were these people and what did they want with her?

Laurel’s hands trembled. She shoved them in the pockets of her lab coat. Had she done something wrong? Her eyes narrowed and she gave Stewart a questioning look, relieved to have an excuse to break off eye contact with the others there.

Stewart’s voice shook slightly as he said, “Laurel, this is Prince Tariq Al Marktum, and he would like to speak to you.” Stewart enunciated the man’s unusual name carefully, as if he’d been practicing in order not to stumble over it.

Prince? What would a prince want with her? A “lab rat”, according to her siblings. Astonishment made her blurt, “About what?”

“I’ll be glad to share that in private,” Prince Tariq answered in a deep smooth voice like velvet with a thread of steel running through it. His accent made Laurel want to hear him say more.

She wrinkled her nose as alarm washed through her. “Stewart, what’s this about?”

“I’ll let the Prince explain. Why don’t we go to my office?” Stewart turned and started toward the swinging doors separating the main lab from the offices. The Prince stepped aside, allowing her to precede him. Acutely aware of him and his security men, she walked stiffly. At the doors, he quickly stepped ahead of her and held one open. Laurel gave him a quick glance as she passed. His inscrutable look revealed nothing. She wouldn’t want to deal with him on a daily basis. How could she ever discern what he was thinking? Feeling?

As they walked down the tiled hall her low sensible clogs made a tap-tap but there was no sound behind her. How did such immense men move with such agility? That thought didn’t comfort her.

Stewart swiped his card and pushed the office door open. She entered, expecting him to follow, but instead Prince Tariq joined her and closed the door behind him. The already small space shrank in proportion to his large presence. She faced him and shoved her hands into her lab coat pockets, bracing herself.

“Please, Dr. Martin, have a seat.” He indicated the chairs in front of Stewart’s desk.

“No, thank you. I need get back to my lab as soon as possible.” She wanted to return to her safe place. “How can I help you?” Laurel couldn’t imagine how but it seemed like the right thing to say to hurry this along.

“Sit, please.” The Prince’s tone implied she had no choice.

She hesitated but eased into a chair, noting too late that it put her into closer proximity to him. To her surprise he took the other chair. At this point she fully expected he might try to lord it over her. After all, he acted as if he owned the place. Stewart didn’t allow just anyone to take over his office. She clasped her hands in her lap and waited for the Prince to speak.

“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. Besides, 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.”

That statement couldn’t have hurt more if he’d slapped her. Okay, that did it. He’d gone too far. She jerked to her feet, mindful of the fact this was his hotel suite. Keeping her voice low, she asked, “How dare you?”

His look remained steady. “I dare because I need you leading my lab. There is important work to be done.”

Laurel had been on the verge of losing her temper. The idea of going halfway around the world terrified her. What would her parents say, her siblings, about her living in Zentar? She just couldn’t do it. Or could she? The Prince wasn’t leaving her any choice. Laurel released a heavy breath.

“We can agree on the need for more research. Since you’ll not relent I will come to Zentar and set up your lab. In return you will see to it that I get to do a study of your families that have two generations of the disease. Beyond that I make no promises.”

“Excellent.” His smile reminded her of a conquering hero’s. “I will delay my return one day so that you can get your affairs in order.”

She gaped at him in disbelief. “One day?”

He put his foot on the floor. “I am sorry but that is all the time I can allow.”

Her lips formed a tight line and her gaze went to somewhere over his shoulder. She had so much to do.

“My assistant can help you with anything you might need.”

She blinked. “I won’t have time to see my family.”

“I’m sorry. Once the lab is operational you may return for a visit.” At least he sounded sincere.

Straightening her shoulders, Laurel moved to the edge of the cushion. “Well, if I’m to be ready to go then I need to be headed home. I have a lot to do.”

Tariq followed her toward the door. “There is just one more matter.”

She looked at him. “Yes?”

“You will need to marry me.”

CHAPTER TWO

“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?

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