Delaney's Desert Sheikh (13 page)

Just thinking about her was torment. He straightened slowly and sighed. After he met with his father in the morning he would leave for Kuwait to meet with the other members of the coalition to reach another agreement with the Sheikh of Caron.

Then he would travel to Ranyaa, his estates in northern Africa. And there he would stay until the marriage arrangements had been worked out. He didn't want to be around anyone any more than necessary. He wanted to be left alone…to drown in his misery.

D
elaney returned the squiggling baby to its mother. “She seems to be doing a whole lot better, Mrs. Ford. Her fever has broken, and her ears no longer look infected.”

The woman shook her head smiling. “Thanks, Dr. Westmoreland. You have been so nice to my Victoria. She likes you.”

Delaney grinned. “I like her, too. And to be on the safe side, I'd like to see her again in a few weeks to recheck her ears.”

“All right.”

Delaney watched as the woman placed the baby in the stroller and left, waving goodbye before getting on the elevator. She sighed deeply. During the three weeks she had started working she was getting used to being called Dr. Westmoreland. Her heart caught in her chest each time she heard it. All of her hard work and dedication to her studies had paid off. She was doing something she loved and that was providing medical care to children.

Someone behind her chuckled, and she half turned and saw it was Tara Matthews. Tara was a fellow resident pediatrician whom she had met when she began working at the hospital. They had quickly become good friends.

“Okay, what's so funny?” she asked Tara, smiling.

“You are,” Tara said, shaking her head grinning. “You really like babies, don't you?”

Managing a chuckle, Delaney said, “Of course I do. I'm a pediatrician, for heaven's sake. So are you, and I have to assume you like babies, too.”

Tara took the stethoscope from around her neck and placed it in the pocket of her doctor's scrubs. “But not as much as you do. I wished I had a camera for the look of awe on your face when you were holding Victoria Ford. You were in hog heaven. And that's with every baby you care for.”

Delaney chuckled, knowing that was true. “I already told you that I'm the only girl with five brothers and I was also the youngest. By the time I came along there weren't any babies in my family. And my brothers have declared themselves bachelors for life which means I won't be getting any nieces or nephews anytime soon.”

Tara folded her arms under her breasts and nodded. “And for me it was the complete opposite. I'm the oldest of four and I had to take care of my younger sister and brothers, so I can hold off having any children of my own for years to come.”

Delaney laughed. She really liked Tara and appreciated their friendship. Like her, Tara had moved to Bowling Green without knowing a soul, and the two of them had hit it off. They lived in the same apartment building and carpooled to work occasionally, and on the weekends they would go shopping and to the video store, then stay up late for hours talking and watching old movies. Being the same age, they shared similar interests, and like her, Tara was unattached at the moment, although Delaney couldn't understand why. With her dark mahogany complexion, light brown eyes and dark brown hair, not to mention her hourglass figure, Tara was simply gorgeous. Delaney knew that a number of doctors had asked her out and she had turned them down without blinking an eye.

But then so had she.

It wasn't uncommon for the single doctors to check out the new unattached female residence physicians. Although Delaney had been asked out several times, like Tara, she had declined the offers. Usually in the afternoons when she left work, unless she and Tara had made plans to do something together that night, she went home, took a shower and went to bed.

And each night she dreamed of Jamal.

“Tara to Delaney. Tara to Delaney. Come in please.”

Delaney laughed when she realized Tara had been trying to get her attention. “I'm sorry, what were you saying?”

“I asked if you have any plans for tonight.”

Delaney shook her head. “No, what about you?”

“No, none. Do you want to check out Denzel's new movie?”

Wincing, Delaney sucked in a deep breath. Tara's question reminded her that she had already seen the movie…with Jamal. She closed her eyes as she tried to blot out the memory.

“Delaney, are you all right?”

Delaney snapped her eyes back open and met Tara's concerned stare. “Yes, I'm fine.” She took in another deep breath of air. “I've already seen the movie, but if you really want to go I can see it again.”

Tara looked at her for a moment before saying, “You went with him, didn't you?”

Delaney took a deep breath. “Him who?”

“The guy you won't talk about.”

Delaney didn't say anything for the longest time and then she nodded. “Yes, and you're right, I don't want to talk about him.”

Tara nodded and reached out a hand to touch Delaney's arm. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. I have no right.”

Delaney shook her head. “No, you don't.” A smile softened her features when she added, “Especially since you're harboring secrets of your own.”

A gentle smile tilted the corners of Tara's lips. “Touché, my friend. One day, after I've taken one sip of chardonnay too many, I'll spill my guts.”

Delaney's expression became serious. “And one day when my pain gets too unbearable and I can use a shoulder to cry on, I'll tell you about him.”

Tara nodded, understanding completely. “Good enough.”

 

“I can't marry Princess Raschida,” Jamal said, meeting his father's deep stare. He had arrived back at the palace after having been gone three weeks. It had taken all that time for him to make decisions he knew would change his life forever. But there was nothing he could do about that. Delaney was the woman he wanted, and she was the woman he would have…if she still wanted him.

King Yasir held his son's gaze. “Do you know what you're saying?” he asked, pushing himself up from the wing chair he had been sitting in.

Jamal stared into the face of the man who had produced him, a man loved, respected and admired by many—a man Jamal knew would do anything for his people and a man who, in addition to everything else, believed in honor.

“Yes, Father,” he answered quietly. “I know what I'm saying and I also know what this means. I truly thought I could go through with it, but now I know that I can't. I'm in love with someone else, and there is no way I can marry another.”

King Yasir looked deep into his son's face. He had known when Jamal arrived home three weeks ago that something had been troubling him. Subsequently, Fatimah had shared with him what that something was. But he had turned a deaf ear to the thought that his son was in love with a Western woman. But now, seeing was believing. Jamal looked tormented and his features were those of a man who was hurting and whose very soul had been stripped away. With all the arrogance and lordliness Jamal was known to have, King Yasir was shocked that a woman had brought his son to this.

“This woman you love is a Western woman, is she not?” he asked gruffly.

Jamal continued to meet his father's gaze. “Yes,” he said calmly.

“And you're willing to walk away from a woman of your people and marry someone not like you, of your faith and nationality?”

Chin up, head lifted and body straight, Jamal answered stiffly, “Yes, because, although not like me, she is of me. She is a part of me just as I am a part of her, Father. Love has united us as one.”

The king's eyes darkened. “Love? And what do you know of love?” he declared. “Are you sure it's not your libido talking? Lust can be just as strong an emotion as love,” he persisted.

Jamal walked closer into the room to face his father. “Yes, I'm aware of that, and I do admit I was attracted to her from the moment I first saw her. I even thought it to be lust for a while, but it is not. At thirty-four I know the difference. I have had an ongoing affair with Najeen for a number of years, yet I've never thought about falling in love with her.”

“You wouldn't have. You knew her position in your life. She was your mistress. If a man of your status were to fall in love it should be with his wife.”

“But things don't always happen that way, Father, as you well know. Look at the number of other dignitaries who are besotted with their mistresses. And to answer your question as to what I know about love, I can honestly say that I know more now than I did some weeks ago,” he concluded heavily. “I know love is what has me willing to stand before you now and plea for your understanding that I marry the woman who has my heart. Love is what has me in total misery, torment and depression. Love is also what has kept me functioning regardless of those things.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “Love is what I see whenever you and Fatimah are together, and love is what has me willing to abdicate my right to succession if I have to.”

Shock was reflected in his father's face. “You will give up the right to be my heir—the crown prince, the future king—for this woman?”

Jamal knew his words had caused his father pain, but they had to be said to make him understand just what Delaney meant to him. “Yes, Father, I would. Fatimah was right. Love is powerful enough to bring even the strongest man to his knees. I love Delaney Westmoreland, and I want her for my princess.”

“But does this woman want you? What if she refuses to accept our ways? What if she refuses to change, and—”

“I don't want her to change,” Jamal said vehemently. “I love her just the way she is. I believe she would be willing to meet me halfway on certain things, and in my heart I also believe she will love our people as much as I do. But Delaney is not a woman who will bend because a man says she has to.”

“This woman is disobedient?” the king asked, troubled, astounded.

“No more so than Fatimah was when she first came here. If I remember correctly there was some rumbling among the people when you married an Egyptian princess instead of one of your own. But over the years they have come to love and respect her.”

King Yasir didn't say anything for a long moment, because what Jamal had just said was true. Fatimah was loved and admired by all. Finally he released a long, deep sigh. “Sheikh Muhammad isn't going to be happy with the news that you refused to marry his daughter. He may declare that our sheikhdom lacks honor. Are you willing to abide with that, Jamal?”

Jamal shook his head. That was the hardest thing he had to contend with. “I will talk to the sheikh and if I have to I will agree to scour the entire countryside and find a replacement that pleases him. But I will not marry his daughter.”

The king nodded solemnly. He then picked up documents off his desk. “Finding a replacement might not be necessary. Fatimah brought something to my attention a few weeks ago, gossip that was circulating among the servants. It seems that the servants in the Muhammads' household had been whispering, and even with the distance separating our sheikhdoms, the wind carried some of those whispers here. Rebakkah felt it was her duty to make her queen aware of what was being said.”

“And what was being said?” Jamal asked, watching lines of anger form in his father's face.

“Word that Princess Raschida is with child, which is the reason Sheikh Muhammad is in such a hurry to marry her off.”

Jamal was taken aback. “I would have married her, not knowing this, and the child would not have been my true heir?”

“Yes,” the king answered in a disgruntled voice. “Evidently they were hoping no one would be the wiser since she is in her very early stages.”

Jamal became furious. “I can't believe Sheikh Muhammad would do such a thing.”

“He was trying to save both himself and his daughter from embarrassment, Jamal. But I agree that what he had planned was dishonorable.” He gazed down at the papers he held in his hand. “This report tells everything. When Fatimah brought me word, I had my men look into it, discreetly. It seemed that the princess has been involved in a secret affair—right under her father's nose—with a man who is a high-ranking official in his army.”

“Well, the man can have her!” Jamal was appalled at how closely he had come to being taken in. And here Delaney could be—and for some reason he believed that she was—pregnant with his legitimate heir.

“I think you should know, Father,” he said, drawing his father's attention, “there is a possibility that Delaney carries my child.”

His father's eyes widened. “Do you know that for certain?”

Jamal shook his head. “No. I haven't had any contact with her since I left America. I can only cite my beliefs on male intuition or possibly a revelation from Allah. But I plan to go to her and find out. I also plan to ask her to marry me and return with me as my bride.”

“And if she doesn't want to do that?”

“Then I will convince her otherwise. Whatever it takes.”

King Yasir nodded, knowing just how persuasive Jamal Ari could be when it suited him. “I much prefer that you marry someone from our country, Jamal, however, you are right, I do understand love doesn't recognize color, national origin or religion.”

“Do I have your blessings, Father?”

The king slowly nodded his head. “Yes, although I am certain you would still marry her without my blessings. However, before I can fully accept her as the woman who will one day stand by your side to rule our people, I must meet her and get to know her. That is the best I can do,” he quietly conceded.