The Black Sheep Sheik by Dana Marton Read Free Book Online Page B

shooting at them drove the point home, telling her that she’d done the right thing.
    “You saved my life,” he said in a tone of absolute certainty that chased away the last of her lingering doubts.
    “You really don’t know who wants you dead?” She opened the closet and found a white doctor’s jacket, ran her fingers along her father’s name on the pocket, blinking back sudden tears. She wished she could ask her father’s advice on the mess she’d gotten herself into. She wished she could ask him what he thought of Amir.
    The two were nothing alike on the outside, yet similar in some ways on the inside. Her father had been an honorable man, a gentle man. Didn’t smoke, didn’t drink, didn’t cuss. The worst he ever said, if someone really got his dander up, was, “Tough chickpeas” or “Blazing buzzards.”
    “I suppose, a lot of people want to see me out of the picture,” Amir was saying out in the waiting room. “Some extremists in my country would rather see me dead than sign a deal with the United States. Some people right here are convinced that I have some terrorist agenda just because the majority of Jamalans are Muslim.”
    “So why did you come? Is whatever you’re trying to do here important enough to risk your life?” She couldn’t imagine that he didn’t have everything right at home that he needed for a life of amazing power and luxury. He had palaces to enjoy and a whole army protecting him. He was royalty. He probably had beautiful women lined up ten deep, hoping to marry him.
    “I’m not going to ‘run and hide’ because there are people out there motivated by hate and fear who are all too willing to spread and believe lies about me.”
    “I didn’t say ‘run and hide.’ Just keep a low profile.” She hated the idea of him getting hurt. Which didn’t mean that she was developing any kind of feelings for him. She hated the idea of anyone getting hurt. Plus, he was the father of her baby. “You don’t need to make yourself into a giant target.”
    “Good people must never give up and lock themselves away from the world’s problems. Moderates from each side must cooperate. The truth must be put out there and repeated as many times as necessary. The radical voice cannot be the only one to be heard.”
    Another closet held two nurses’ uniforms. One of them had a forgotten stethoscope in its pocket. She found a box of unopened tongue depressors on a shelf. She closed the door, frustrated, and moved on to the examining rooms. “We have a saying like that. ‘All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.’”
    “Which is exactly why my friends and I all came despite the dangers. The exact reason why we refuse to be defeated. Once a person starts running from evil, there’s no stopping.”
    She glanced at him through the open door. Even barely recovered from a coma and flat on his back, he was still the embodiment of heroic. She felt something deep inside her respond to him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. They barely knew each other. And if he got wind of any softening on her part, he would double his efforts to convince her to agree to the loveless marriage scheme his misplaced honor demanded.
    Because, okay, he’d made his point about passion with that kiss. Their marriage wouldn’t be without passion. And, to be truthful, her body thrilled at just the thought of it. But what about love? That he hadn’t said a single word about love didn’t escape her notice.
    She focused back on her search, turning her back to him, refusing to let him distract her. Empty drawers. Empty shelves. Stacks of marketing materials from pharmaceutical companies. By the time she was done looking around, finding nothing whatsoever that could help them in any way, Amir was asleep, his breathing even.
    Darkness had fallen outside.
    She stepped to the window, keeping in the cover of the dusty curtains. An old Ford pickup thundered up the street. Traffic had lessened, but by no