The Sheik's Ruby Page 3

  “Very nice, thank you.” Hakim turned to allow the butler to slide his jacket off his shoulders.

  “The chef has informed me supper will be ready in half an hour.”

  Hakim nodded and took a moment to admire the view of the darkening mountain from the penthouse window.

  The western décor theme carried throughout the lodge and into the guestrooms. A stone fireplace with a crackling flame was the focal point of the main area of the penthouse.

  Hakim waved a farewell to Nasir, who retired to his own room, and then the prince stepped past the rustic planked dining table set for one and into a hall leading to the master bedroom, so he could shower before dinner.

  For a few hours the next morning, Hakim skied, but found the activity wasn’t as appealing as the day before. Memories of the previous day distracted him. Every other thought was of Shelby—her smile as she raced him down the slope, their conversations on the lifts, the way she removed her gloves with her teeth, and chewed her lower lip when she was thinking. After a few runs, he returned to his suite, unable to concentrate.

  Shelby was, as far as he could tell, a fairly typical American woman—average height and build. Pretty, though not stunning, more of a natural beauty. His gaze had been constantly drawn to her face which was so full of life, although something else, an aspect he couldn’t quite put his finger on, attracted him. She exuded confidence—a different kind of self-confidence than he was accustomed to—a type of poise which didn’t come from beauty, money, or status. She was honest. Competitive, yes, but not in an attempt to impress him. She seemed so open, yet not naïve. Simply comfortable being herself. And for reasons he couldn’t understand, she seemed comfortable being with him.

  And did he ask too much, wanting the experiences of a regular life? To enjoy himself, to make friends, and to not worry about the finality of his future? He would be the Sheik soon enough, and such decisions would be made for him.

  Dressed in a cashmere sweater and jeans, Hakim sat in front of the massive fireplace attempting to distract himself with a book.

  “Excuse me, Your Highness.” Nasir entered the room with quiet footsteps. “I have the background check information for Miss Walker.”

  Hakim put down his book and rolled his finger, indicating for Nasir to continue.

  “Shelby Jo Walker, age twenty-four. Born in Culver Springs, Colorado. Parents are Burke and Deborah Walker. Brother is Chet Walker. None of her family has traveled outside of the country or had contact with any person or groups of interest.” Nasir spoke in a modulated tone, skimming his gaze down the page for pertinent information.

  “Aside from one speeding ticket, Miss Walker has no criminal record. She is the registered owner of a 2005 economy compact car. Attended Culver High School, degree in Journalism from the University of Colorado, where she lived with three roommates. None of whom cause any suspicion. Employed by Wintersports magazine. Currently a resident of Washington Park, where she has lived for the past seventeen months. Miss Walker was issued an American passport and traveled to Vancouver, British Columbia in April of last year. As far as we can tell, she is no threat to your safety or the national security of Khali-dar.”

  “Thank you.” Hakim took the papers from Nasir. He read over them with interest until his personal assistant, Shanayze, interrupted him with documents to sign. The prince set down the papers and resigned himself to conducting regular business matters.

  An hour later, Shanayze stood to leave.

  Hakim cleared his throat to stop her. “Shanayze, I would like you to do me a favor.”

  “Of course, Your Highness.”

  Shelby had over shadowed his thoughts all day. Had she been thinking about him, as well? American women were baffling to say the least, and he had no idea what sort of things might please this one. He looked to where his assistant waited. “Would you please speak to the concierge and arrange a floral delivery?”

  ****

  Shelby stared at her computer screen. The words just wouldn’t come. Her mind wandered again to the events of the previous day. Come on, concentrate. Remember, here in reality, there are deadlines and no handsome, exotic stranger to race down the mountain. She tucked her wavy hair behind her ears and leaned back in her chair, allowing her gaze to travel around her workspace.

  A crowded main floor office was the home of Wintersports magazine. Mismatched tables and chairs served as desks for the journalists. Shelby was the only employee sitting on the writers’ side of the office today. She heard voices in the conference room as the next month’s magazine was being laid out. The constant sound of the printing press rattled and hummed in the basement, making the floor vibrate. The walls in the office were papered in typical fashion with magazine clippings, pictures, comic strips, and photos of loved ones. Shelby only had two pictures on her desk. Her family smiled out of one frame. She studied their faces and felt the familiar twinge of homesickness.

  A snapshot of Shelby’s best friend, Lacey, holding her brand new baby, rested against the family picture. Shelby had always been a little jealous of how beautiful Lacey was. Lacey’s grandfather was Navajo, his genes evident in her gorgeous hair, tan skin, and dark eyes. Undoubtedly the prettiest girl in school and Homecoming Queen their senior year, Lacey turned heads. Growing up, Shelby had felt awkward around boys. Her curly hair and freckles didn’t help her self-confidence much, especially when all males drooled over her best friend. She had usually been shy and insecure anytime a situation required her to interact with a member of the opposite sex. Luckily, Shelby had discovered sports and writing, giving her the confidence she needed. But this unfortunately resigned her to the role of a “guy’s best friend.”

  That was what made yesterday so unique. For some reason, Hakim was different. She had no problem challenging him on the mountain, and amazingly, he continued to spend the day with her. She was delighted to feel so at ease with and so attracted to a man she’d just met.

  The day was more than half over, and she knew she needed to at least start her article about yesterday’s skiing. Especially since she’d be snowmobiling all day tomorrow. But when she began to type, she was distracted by the image of dark brown eyes and a white smile. Closing her laptop, she sighed and wandered through a door on the back wall into her boss’s office.

  “Hey, Xan! Wanna grab a late lunch?” She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe.

  “Love to.” He smiled, tossed aside the magazine he was reading, and sprang out of his chair. As he grabbed his coat from a hook on the wall, the phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID screen and winked. “Sorry, gotta take this real quick.”

  Shelby sat in a soft chair to wait. Although she had been in Xan’s office hundreds of times, she shook her head as she gazed around. Had a room ever so perfectly reflected its owner? Hanging on the walls were pictures of skiers and snowboarders flying through powder, signed photographs of Olympic athletes, and posters for Warren Miller movies. She rested her gaze on Xan.

  He rolled his eyes as he pointed at the phone. “Sorry,” he mouthed.

  Smiling, she shrugged. No hurry.

  Even though he was a few years older than Shelby, Xan’s shaggy blond hair and freckles made him seem more like a teenager. He was obviously an athlete. A trendy T-shirt stretched tight across his chest and accentuated the muscles in his arms. Xan was a much better snowboarder than editor. But his enthusiasm, expertise, and the fact his father owned the magazine made up for any lack in that department.

  After a few minutes, the call ended. “Feel like Thai?” he asked as he hung up.

  “Thai would be great.”

  They walked through the office and stepped outside through the glass doors. A faint sun glowed through a screen of clouds in the sky over Denver. The air felt dirty and cold. Shelby and Xan strode down the sidewalk, avoiding patches of gray, frozen slush. She was glad she’d be back in the mountains tomorrow. Out of the city, the sun would be warm and the sky blue.

  The restaurant was only half a bloc
k away on the same semi-deserted street as the Wintersports office. Realtor signs hung in the windows of many of the buildings, and the few shops or offices that were open didn’t get much traffic. They stepped into the Isan Tai restaurant, and the aroma of foreign spices filled the warm air. They waved to the owner, Aroon, through the window to the kitchen. Xan helped Shelby off with her coat, and they slid onto the red vinyl benches of the booth.

  Aroon, a small, impossibly thin man with a wispy black moustache, appeared, wiping his hands on his apron. “Ah, my favorite customers. I think you will like the Pla nueng maneo with coconut rice today. It is delicious.”

  Shelby lowered her head to hide her smile. She and Xan often joked about how Aroon didn’t let customers order for themselves. But he was always right, and she knew the food would be wonderful.

  “That sounds excellent,” Xan said. “And can we get some drinks, too?”

  “Yes, yes, two diet sodas. Aroon always remembers his favorite customers,” he said, and then scurried away to start their order.

  She and Xan shared a smile.

  “Thank you, Aroon,” Shelby said a few minutes later, when he set their glasses and straws on the table.

  Xan took a long sip of his drink and looked at Shelby. “It’s been a while since we’ve spent any time together, Shel.”

  Shelby squirmed under his gaze. Sometimes, she felt the way he studied her was too intimate, or too intense for a professional relationship. “What are you talking about? We ate here just last week.” She smoothed out the thin paper placemat.

  “Yeah, but I think that was the last time I saw you.”

  “You know, my boss is kind of a slave driver.” She smirked and raised her brows, to let him know she was teasing. “But truthfully, I’ve been pretty busy.”

  Aroon delivered their food. One bowl was piled high with coconut rice, and the other with noodles and fish. He made sure they had everything they needed and left them alone.

  “How did it go, yesterday? Did you like Bear Creek?” Xan asked.

  Shelby let herself relax, glad he’d brought the conversation back to work. “The resort was perfect. Fresh powder, blue skies, and not too crowded. You should’ve come.”

  “You know how places like that feel about snowboarders. And I also had that shareholders meeting my dad insisted I couldn’t miss. Too bad you had to ski alone, though.”

  “Actually, I met someone up there, and he did some runs with me.” Shelby leaned forward for a smell of the fish and lime dressing. Aroon was right. The food smelled delicious. Shelby scooped noodles onto her plate and reached for the fish. When she glanced up at Xan, she realized he was still staring.

  “He?” Xan narrowed his eyes.

  “Yeah, a really nice guy.” Shelby took a bite of fish. “He’s from the Middle East—Khali-dar. He was a fantastic skier and told me about the indoor slopes they have where he comes from. Have you ever heard of that? It’s gotta be amazing, right?” When she realized she was rambling, she blushed. She pushed the rice around her plate with her chopsticks. Why on earth am I uncomfortable speaking with Xan about Hakim?

  “Shel, you need to be careful. Are you blushing? Dudes like that totally prey on girls like you.”

  An expression she had never seen before flashed across Xan’s face. Was it jealousy? She tipped her head to the side and lowered her eyelids to half mast. “Girls like me?”

  “You’re young and cute and from a small town. People aren’t the same up here. You can’t trust everyone you meet.” Xan wound noodles around his chopsticks and stuffed the wad into his mouth.

  Shelby couldn’t believe what she just heard. She’d always thought of Xan as a good friend—kind of like a brother. But right now, he was acting like an over-protective parent. “Xan, I’m not completely naïve. I meet people on the slopes all the time. This guy was no different.” She couldn’t meet his gaze when she said this, but she kept speaking. “That’s it. It was fun. Not a big deal.” She glanced at him, and then back to her plate. “Why are you acting this way?”

  “Shel, I’d never forgive myself if something bad happened. Don’t get mad. I’m just looking out for you.” His face reddened. “But, he was a tourist, so you won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  Shelby set down her chopsticks and looked Xan in the eye. Irritation tightened her muscles. “I invited him to come to Canyon Rim tomorrow.”

  Xan’s eyebrows furrowed as he chewed. “I might come up to Canyon Rim tomorrow, too. If that’s all right with you.”

  She studied his face but saw his expression was neutral. “What? Why? I mean, of course you’re welcome, but are you coming just to keep an eye on me? I’m a big girl, you know. I can handle myself in a professional manner. I won’t do anything to damage the reputation of the magazine, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Shel, this has nothing to do with the magazine. You should have seen your face when you were talking about this guy. You just met him, and you’re acting like the two of you are best friends.” He leaned back in the booth and folded his arms. “I’ll be there to keep things legit.”

  Xan was about the easiest going guy she knew. She couldn’t believe he was blowing things so far out of proportion. Now, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all.

  They finished eating, and Xan used his company card to pay the bill. After saying goodbye to Aroon, the two stepped back out into the cold. An uncomfortable silence now cast a pall over the already dreary day as they hurried down the street toward the office.

  Near the front doors, a white van with a flower shop logo pulled up on the street. A teenage girl in a red parka climbed out of the driver’s seat carrying a clipboard. “Hey, do either of you know Shelby Jo Walker?”

  “I’m Shelby.” She glanced at the van and back at the girl, wondering what was going on.

  “I’ll need you to sign here, Miss.”

  Shelby signed the delivery slip. Is this a mistake?

  The girl stepped off the slushy curb and walked back behind the van, only to re-appear seconds later carrying a crystal vase full of flowers. She was nearly invisible behind the grand arrangement.

  Shelby held the door for the girl. Who could have sent these? Her dad? Brother? Not their style. Anyway, this over-the-top arrangement must have cost someone a small fortune. A little thread of hope wiggled its way into her mind, but she squelched it. No way am I letting myself get swept away with crazy romantic ideas. They must have been sent by a business she had done a story on. Not the typical thank you for a reporter, but still the only feasible option. Just a coincidence. She got swag from companies all the time.

  “Where do you want me to put it?” the girl panted.

  “Right here is fine.” Shelby gestured toward her desk, avoiding Xan’s gaze.

  “I’ve delivered a lot of flowers, but I’ve never seen anything this nice. Someone must really like you,” the red parka girl said over her shoulder. She pushed open the door and left.

  Shelby gasped as she stared at the spectacular arrangement. It reminded her of something from the lobby of a fancy hotel. The cut crystal vase burst with roses, lilies, and other exotic flowers she couldn’t name. She lifted the envelope inscribed with her name from the plastic card holder. Shelby Jo Walker. Her hands sweated, and she felt disgusted with herself. She wasn’t the kind of girl to swoon over flowers. Time to get a grip. A small part of her wished for a little privacy, but her practical side knew she had nothing to hide from Xan.

  He peered over her shoulder as she opened the card in a manner that she hoped seemed casual. The letter was written in loopy handwriting, which she assumed belonged to a woman at the flower shop.

  Thank you for a delightful day of skiing. I am looking forward to another enjoyable outing tomorrow.

  Your friend,

  Hakim

  Heat rushed to her face, and her heart pounded.

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning—what time?”

  Xan’s voice jolted her back into r
eality, and she noticed he’d started back toward his office. “Um, I’m leaving at eight.”

  “Eight, then.” He closed the door behind him with a hard snap, the sound echoing through the quiet office.

  Chapter Three

  Shelby gazed out the window of Xan’s SUV. Thursday morning had dawned crisp and bright, and the sun glistened on the snow. The hour-long drive up the canyon was quiet. She and Xan wore their usual winter work clothes—snow pants and boots. Their parkas were thrown across the back seat. They lapsed into a comfortable routine typical of two people who spent a lot of time together. In the center console, their drinks sat in the usual cup holders, and they’d shared a breakfast of champions—gas station donuts and cinnamon bears.

  The tension between them had lifted, although she was still irritated at the way he treated her like a child at lunch the day before. Their conversation remained on neutral subjects like work, songs on the radio, and the weather. This morning, Shelby had taken more time than usual getting ready and had ignored the way Xan raised his eyebrows when he saw the shine of her lip gloss.

  Xan slowed his SUV, searching for the turnoff to the Canyon Rim lodge. The sign on the small road was hidden behind a snow-saturated branch.

  Thanks to Shelby’s sharp eyes that they found it at all.

  He stopped, flipping on his four-wheel drive before turning up the unplowed road. The only indication they were going the right way were the tire tracks packing down the snow into a slick, rutted trail.

  Shelby was glad Xan was driving. Her car would never have made it in these conditions without getting stuck.

  They bounced and slid along the road until they came to a rise, where the resort and parking lot came into view. The lodge was a large log cabin with a huge wrap-around porch. The cabin nestled on a gentle foothill of the mountain range, which rose behind and encircled the little valley to provide the isolated feeling people sought in the great outdoors. Snowmobile, snowshoe, and cross-country ski tracks wove across the snow behind the building in haphazard patterns, some disappearing off into the trees.