A Wife For The Surgeon Sheikh

She watched the man as she spoke, and saw his face darken, but when he spoke she could hear regret, and also love, in his voice.

‘My brother was not a wise man.’

Lauren waited. He was here for a reason, so it was his story to tell.

He began slowly. ‘My father, in his declining years, was also not wise. His mind weakened and he began to listen to those around him—to listen to advice that would benefit the speaker but not the country. He had governed well but strictly, refusing to allow the new-found wealth of the country to change it.’

A pause, before he added rather bitterly, ‘In any way!’

‘And his advisors?’ Lauren asked when the man had sat in brooding silence for a few moments.

‘Advised stupidity. Advised progress, but far too quickly for the land or the people to handle. We are the keepers of our land, our settlement built around a large oasis so for many, many centuries we have been an important place on the trading routes that cross from Asia to Europe.’

‘Like the Silk Road—I’ve read so much about that, it’s such an ancient highway.’

Malik nodded.

‘Traders followed the routes, but they required new supplies of food, and sometimes shelter, always new animals—camels and sheep—to replace those they lost along the way. So really our people are farmers and shopkeepers—that has been their role for generation after generation.’

‘And it’s changed how?’

He didn’t need to look at the woman to see her interest. It charged her voice, and something deep inside him whispered a small hope.

Maybe this sister would be different...

‘In the beginning, the oil men who held the leases built a hotel for their senior staff and guests, and an air terminal and runways for their planes. Then my father and his friends took this as progress—as the way to go. They built a bigger hotel and an airline company. And more hotels and shopping malls, all the things they thought a desert city might need to attract the tourist dollars, but—’

‘You feel money would be better spent on other things? On things that benefit your own people, not the tourists.’

He nodded.

‘Hospitals and schools, a university and training colleges. With health and education our people can go anywhere, do anything. They can become the doctors and the architects and engineers of the new Madan. They can build a city for them and their families, a city they would want to live in.’

‘And a shopping mall doesn’t cut it?’ she said with a smile. But she’d heard the real passion in his voice, and understood his desire to give his people the skills to live in this new world—their new world.

Would Tariq have felt the same?

But something told her that this man had a deep integrity his brother had lacked, and admiration for him joined the whatever else it was that had been going on inside her...

‘So, where does Nim come into this?’

He didn’t answer immediately—this man whose name meant Protector of the King.

Did he see it as his duty to protect Nim or did he want him for reasons of his own?

‘The country will, one day, be under Nimr’s rule, so he needs to grow up there, to learn the history and know the people. But until he comes of age, which is twenty-two in Madan, the head of state will be his regent.’

‘Which is you?’

He shook his head.

‘Not necessarily. As the closest relative, yes, it should be my position, but you must understand that until my father died less than a year ago, I had assumed Nimr had been killed in the accident.’

‘But surely someone—your father—would have received a report? The investigation from the police, the coroner’s office, along with the inquest results, all took for ever, I know, but he’d have seen the final reports, surely?’

He nodded.

‘There were many reports,’ he said, ‘but none that I had seen until after my father’s death and I was going through his papers. It was then I realised the child had survived, and began my search for him.’

‘And found us!’

‘Just so!’ Malik said, then those observant eyes studied her for a few moments, before he added, ‘I would never harm either you or Nimr, you must believe that. I did not kill my brother and your family, but I have sworn to find out who did, and I shall.’

He paused, but she’d heard both the commitment and determination in his voice.

‘But that is for the future,’ he continued, while she wondered why she believed him—she who had trusted so few people in the last four years.

Think about it later, she told herself, turning her attention back to his words—his explanations.

‘I cannot afford the time to make it a priority. Right now, my country needs strong rule—a plan for the future and immediate direction. As Nimr’s regent—if the child is seen to be in my care—I can appoint people who will provide that. I’ll have to do a certain level of official business, but I am a doctor, not a politician, and once I have the right people in place, I can return to my job at the hospital, such as it is.’

‘So you want to take my son?’ Lauren said, her voice shaking with the tension she was feeling. The man had made a valid argument, and he was as closely related to Nim as she was. Except—

‘Except you can’t!’ she said. ‘I’ve adopted him and he’s legally mine. I’m quite sure there must be someone—yourself, no doubt—who’s the next in line after him. Take the reins yourself or use someone you trust. Let Nim grow up an ordinary Aussie boy.’

‘Surrounded by security and with you living in fear of what might happen to him?’ Malik snapped. ‘Do you not understand I would protect him with my life? Do you not believe that? But I cannot do it while he is here.’

She did understand him—the passion in his voice as he’d spoken of his country had been very real, but...

‘You’re just being stubborn,’ she told him. ‘Can’t you see that if someone else becomes ruler, Nim will no longer matter? He will no longer need protection of any kind because your successors or those of whoever you get to rule the land will follow on. People will forget he ever existed.’

‘Nimr, the son of Tariq, will never be forgotten, not in my heart, and not in the hearts of my people.’

‘But your people don’t know of his existence!’ Lauren argued. ‘He was born here—he was only two weeks old when his parents were killed. Even before that, Lily had determined to divorce Tariq, to settle down here in Australia.’

‘And you could see that happening?’ the aggravating man demanded. ‘The beautiful butterfly settling anywhere?’

There was no way that Lauren was going to admit she shared his doubts about her sister—or her doubts about Lily leaving Tariq?

‘That’s beside the point,’ she said. ‘I cannot believe that there is no way you can help your country without dragging a four-year-old boy along behind you.’

‘He would not be behind me, he would be King. I would be nothing more than his regent—a caretaker for the country until he comes of age.’

It was all far too complicated, but the idea of Nim being some kind of figurehead to be paraded at will was just too much for her to take in.

‘Well, I’m sorry. I understand you mean well, and that you want what is best for your country, but I have to think about my son, and his welfare, and his future.’

‘And you think that’s here? Surrounded by security all his life, and not very effective security at that?’

Her earlier moment of absolute terror flashed before her eyes and she had to hold back a gasp. But she couldn’t show more weakness, not to this man...

‘Joe opened that door for me, and it would have been obvious to him that I knew you—or at least knew who you were. If you’d approached on your own it would have been a different story.’

It sounded weak even to her own ears.

‘And he’ll be there with Nimr when he plays in the park with his friends from school? How long will a boy put up with that kind of shadow? How long before he gets embarrassed about it, and finds ways of avoiding Joe’s protection?’

He was giving voice to the thoughts that kept Lauren awake most nights and she hid the dread they brought.

‘I’m not stupid!’ she snapped. ‘Lily’s stories about people conspiring to get rid of her and Tariq, which I’d thought gross exaggerations, were proven to be true. And I’ve always known I could only go so far to protect Nim. But after four years I’d begun to hope that anyone who actually knew of his existence would have forgotten about him.’

Those conversations—well, them and the accident and abduction—were the reasons Lauren had fled. With help from the police liaison officer, she’d officially changed her name and disappeared, moving constantly for the first two years—in touch with the police in different places who had twice alerted her that someone from Madan was looking for them—never entirely sure they were safe.

And now Lily’s words were coming true. Now this man was here, wanting to take her child—Lily’s child.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you mean well, but I have to think of Nim, so no more talk. He’s not going—we’re not going—anywhere.’

Except to move as soon as possible to another town, maybe a city... Would a city be easier to lose themselves in? Even with half the money from the sale of her parents’ mansion put away for Nim, she still had more than enough to take them anywhere in the world.

But the thought of moving again made her feel ill. Aunt Jane and Joe were settled in the other half of the duplex, They’d done more than enough for her and Nim already, and weren’t even true family, for all Aunt Jane had been her mother’s best friend, and Joe had worshipped Lily since they were children—

‘What did you say?’

She shook her head to clear it, realising it was tiredness that had led her mind to stray away from this man—from danger.

He was watching her, his face devoid of expression, but his eyes were focussed.

Seeking her reaction?

‘I said I would prefer not to go through official channels, but by the law of my country Nimr became my child on the death of his father. I have every right in law to claim him.’

Lauren ran her tongue over suddenly dry lips, tried to think, but shock and anger, and possibly exhaustion, had closed her brain.

* * *

Malik saw what little colour she’d had in her cheeks fade, and the tip of her tongue slide across her pale lips.

And found himself wanting nothing more than to take care of her—this small, fiercely protective woman. Not only to keep her safe but to lift the burden of fear from her slim shoulders.

To hold her, tell her it would all work out.

To hold her?

Get your mind back on the job.

But guilt at how he’d hurt her with his words made him reach out and touch one small, cold hand, where it lay in her lap.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have threatened you like that—you look exhausted, and all this has been a shock to you. No one should make decisions when they’re tired, but there’s a way out of this for all of us. Don’t answer now, we will talk again in the morning. I shall phone your Mr Marshall and explain you won’t be in to work.’

But she’d obviously stopped listening earlier in his conversation.

‘A way out for all of us?’ she asked, looking at him with a thousand questions in her lovely eyes.

‘Of course,’ he told her, and felt a small spurt of unexpected excitement even thinking about his solution.

‘We shall get married,’ he announced. ‘That way Nim is both of ours and will be doubly protected.’

Her eyes had widened and although he hadn’t thought she could get any paler, she was now sheet-white.

But she stood up, and for a moment he thought she might physically attack him, but in the end she glared at him and said, ‘You must be mad!’ before turning towards the kitchen.

‘Peter, your customer is ready to leave,’ she called, before disappearing down the passage, presumably into her bedroom.

As his driver appeared, with Joe looming behind him, Malik realised there was no point in arguing, but the idea, which had come to him out of nowhere, was brilliant.

All he had to do was convince Lauren.

Her name rolled a little on his tongue and, inside his head, he tried it out a few times.

He said goodnight to Joe, and followed Peter out to the car, but his mind, for once, was not on Nimr, but on the woman he’d decided to marry...

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