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
