A Wife For The Surgeon Sheikh. Meredith Webber

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