The Sheik's Ruby (23 page)

Another server, this time a woman, filled Shelby’s glass with water.

The President continued to mingle, while his wife remained seated at the table. She leaned over to Shelby. “I am so glad you’re here. It’s not often I have someone to chat with at things like this.”

Shelby studied the First Lady. Shelby had always considered her pretty. Her short, blonde hair had started to gray, but this only added to her sophistication. She wore a black formal gown with long gloves that came up past her elbows. A strand of large pearls hung around her neck.

“Prince Hakim is very handsome,” Mrs. Mannen said. “How did you two meet?”

“We met skiing in Denver.”

“How romantic, and now here you are, dressed like a princess, with him unable to take his eyes off you.”

Shelby followed the woman’s gaze across the room to where Hakim stood, speaking with someone. His gaze met hers, and heat tickled her cheeks.

“What about you?” Shelby asked, eager to take the attention away from herself. “How did you meet your husband?” She realized she knew hardly anything about Mrs. Mannen. After the way she had reacted when the Sheik didn’t know the name of the tapestry weaver, she felt embarrassed she was guilty of the same thing.

“We met in college. We had an Art History class together, of all things. The two of us just hit it off right away. And now here we are, thirty years and two kids later…”

“Sitting in a ballroom of a Middle Eastern Sheik’s palace,” Shelby finished.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life is unpredictable.” Mrs. Mannen bent her wrist, waving off her small laugh. “So, tell me about yourself, Shelby. Where are you from?”

“A small town in Colorado. Culver Springs. My parents have a ranch there. I live in Denver, now.”

“And how long are you staying in Khali-dar?”

“I’m not sure.” Shelby shifted in her seat, biting her lip. “I guess you could say it’s complicated.”

The President, Hakim, and the Sheik made their way back toward the table.

As they got closer, Shelby could hear Hakim speaking in a serious tone.

“We believe if we could just find the headquarters and the leader, we could quell this uprising.”

“Well, you know the US will support you in any way you need.”

“Thank you.”

The men sat, and the Sheik gave a speech welcoming the guests, thanking them for their support. Then he sat at their table next to the President.

Shelby surveyed the room, fascinated. People from all nationalities wore costumes and gowns covering the entire fashion spectrum. She kept her gaze from traveling to the table where the Khali-dar families, and specifically Ghaniyah, sat. She hadn’t thought before about the kind of society that must exist here. These were people Hakim interacted with on a regular basis. How would she fit in with this elite group? A part of her wanted to win them over, but the more practical side of her knew no matter what she did, how long she stayed, or how hard she tried, she would never be one of them. She’d always be an outsider.

The conversation at the table centered on the
Nahl
group and the threats against the Khali-dar government. Shelby listened, her insides tightening in worry and at the same time warming with pride. She had no idea the United States took such an interest in the welfare of Khali-dar.

President Mannen turned toward Shelby. “So, Miss Walker, what do you think of Khali-dar?”

Shelby nearly choked on her drink. “Please, call me Shelby, Mr. President.” She set down her glass and clasped her hands on her lap so he would not see how they shook. “Khali-dar is incredible. I’ve hardly ever been more than a few hundred miles from my home town, and so I feel really lucky to be here. Especially tonight at such an important event.”

“Yes, this country is one of my favorite places to visit. I never fail to be astonished by the beauty of this palace.” President Mannen tipped his head back and let his gaze travel to the ceiling. “It’s as if the room is glowing.”

“It’s mica,” Shelby said before she could stop herself.

“Pardon me?”

Shelby noticed some of the other people at the table had stopped their conversations to listen. The blood rushed to her cheeks. “Mica mixed into the plaster gives the walls their sheen. It also repels dust and keeps away spiders and hornets.”
Why can’t I stop talking?

“What a fascinating bit of trivia. How is it that you know so much about the components of plaster?”

“I don’t.” She paused, wishing people would just go back to their own discussions and swallowed over her dry throat. “I read it in a book about Khali-dar.”
Great, now I sound like Hermione Granger.

“I’d love to hear more about the palace.” Mrs. Mannen set down her fork and turned her attention to Shelby.

“I only know what I’ve read. And some things Hakim told me.” She glanced at Hakim.

He nodded and gave her an encouraging smile.

“Let’s see…The palace was built here because there is a natural water source, an oasis, under the ground. At one time, a moat surrounded the palace to keep out invaders. The walls surrounding the property are between twenty and thirty feet high from the outside, but from the inside, they never exceed fifteen feet. That way it doesn’t feel like they are looming over you. What else…?” Shelby let her gaze travel around the room, settling on the south doors. “I do know a pretty interesting story, if it’s all right for me to share it.” Raising an eyebrow in question, she looked at Hakim who nodded his permission.

“The Khalid family has ruled Khali-dar for nearly eight hundred years. This ballroom was part of the original palace built in the fourteenth century. Sheik Abdul Muhsi had the doorways built large enough for an elephant carrying a loaded riding carriage to fit through.” Everyone at the table turned their attention to the massive doorways, and Shelby knew they were all trying to picture a fully-laden elephant sauntering inside.

“Flash forward about a hundred years to the 1480s. The reigning Sheik had no heir. The people feared the Khalid dynasty would end, so the Sheik sent for the wise man of the village to advise him. The wise man told him the south doors, which were the main entrance to the palace at that time, must be sealed. As long as they stayed sealed, the Khalid family would have a suitable heir. The Sheik immediately had the doors sealed, and within a year, his son was born. So, the doors remain sealed to this day, and the line of rulers has never been broken.” Shelby realized the entire table of twelve had gone quiet to listen. She felt her ears heat and glanced toward the Sheik, wishing she could read his expression.

“You can see, perhaps, the obligation the prince has to his people. He must not only produce an heir, but also make an appropriate alliance in order to ensure that it is the
proper
heir,” the Sheik said.

Hakim tensed.

Although the Sheik’s voice seemed amiable and conversational, beneath his polite words, the meaning was crystal clear to Shelby. He did not consider her appropriate. Tears burned the back of her eyes, and she lowered her gaze, hoping no one noticed.

Under the table, Hakim squeezed her hand.

“There is such a rich history here, isn’t there?” Mrs. Mannen said. “Receptions like this are always official business, and I’m afraid we don’t get to hear as much about the culture as we’d like.”

During Shelby’s story, an army of servers had silently filled the tables with trays of food. The rich smells made her stomach growl. The plates looked too fancy to actually put food on. Exquisite gold chargers lay under richly painted bone china. Golden silverware and deep blue goblets finished the beautiful settings. Her mouth pulled in a fond smile as she remembered how excited her mom was when they had all pitched in to give her six sets of matching stoneware for Christmas last year.

Dinner was wonderful. Most of the dishes were unfamiliar, but she was surprised by how delicious everything tasted.

Hakim was attentive throughout the meal, identifying the different foods and watching to see her reaction as she tasted them. She was touched by his actions and could tell he was making an extra effort to distract her from his father’s rudeness. He pointed out different men and women in the room, telling her about them, and she was astounded by the important people who had all gathered here in support of Khali-dar and the Sheik. Not only important rulers and heads of state, but businessmen, political activists, bankers, and diplomats. The room buzzed with energy around all these influential people.

After the servers cleared away the last plate, the Sheik stood again, leaning on his cane. “I thank all of you for coming tonight and for your continued support of Khali-dar. In our country, guests are blessings, gifts from Allah.” He dipped forward his head as his guests applauded. “I invite you now to join me at the other end of the ballroom, for the entertainment portion of the evening.”

Hakim escorted Shelby to the rows of chairs facing a large empty section of the dance floor.

They were seated, and when the audience quieted, two lines of men filed into the room and stopped, linking arms and facing each other. They all wore traditional Arabic costumes: white
dishdashas
and their red checkered
kheffiyas
were tied to their heads. All of the young men stood with their shoulders pulled back and their heads held high.

“This is a traditional folk dance,” Hakim told her. “It is called the
Ayyalah
.”

Soon, a drum began to beat a slow, steady rhythm, then more drums joined in. The men swayed back and forth to the beat of the drums. They brandished swords from their belts, and each side took turns calling to each other in challenge.

The entire room was silent, their gazes focused toward the performance. Shelby almost believed she was watching a battle that would break out any moment. When the performance ended, she realized she had been mesmerized by the beat and the chanting. Shelby blinked and looked around the room, noticing the same reaction on the faces of the other people in the audience.

As she passed her gaze over the section where Ghaniyah sat, she felt the icy glare again and tensed. Not just from Ghaniyah and her mother, but now from other people who sat around them. They apparently had serious influence on their friends. Shelby turned away, trying not to let it distract her from enjoying the evening.

More dances were presented. Her favorite,
Na’ashat,
was performed by women, swaying slowly to a beautiful haunting melody played on a flute, accompanied by a tambourine. The women placed their right hands on their hearts, and their long black hair swung hypnotically back and forth.

Shelby was disappointed when the program ended. People moved around the room, mingling. Servers weaved between them with trays of drinks.

Hakim excused himself for a moment to go speak to someone, leaving Shelby sitting alone, observing the people interacting throughout the room.

After a few minutes, a small group approached, led by Ghaniyah.

Shelby stood and smiled. This was not the time to appear unsure of herself.

“I hope you are having a lovely evening, Shelby Walker.” Ghaniyah spoke a little too loudly.

Shelby could hear the sarcasm dripping through her thick accent.

Some of her friends snickered.

“Thank you for asking, Ghaniyah. I am having a wonderful time.” Shelby kept her voice light, ignoring the condescension in Ghaniyah’s tone.

“I am always amused by who Prince Hakim chooses to spend his time with.” Ghaniyah placed her hand on Shelby’s arm and leaned close, as if to confide. “Such is the way with men, I suppose. Choosing to keep themselves entertained temporarily.” Her dark eyes bored into Shelby’s. “In the end, he will do what is right for his kingdom and make a proper alliance.”

Shelby kept up her head, hoping the hurt she felt at Ghaniyah’s words didn’t show on her face.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Ghaniyah and the Sheik are working together.
“It was nice meeting you, Ghaniyah. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.” Shelby turned to go.

Ghaniyah’s fingers tightened on her arm. “Prince Hakim and I have been promised since birth, Shelby Walker. I come from the wealthiest family in the country, and you are nothing but a poor American. I hope you do not think his immature fascination is anything more than a game. You are not the first of his bad decisions, but I hope you will be his last.”

Shelby didn’t trust herself to respond. Instead, she breathed deeply and clenched her trembling hands as she left the group and went to stand next to President and Mrs. Mannen.

Hakim hurried over and led her to a side of the room away from the crowd. His brows were pinched together. “I saw you speaking to Ghaniyah. I am sorry—I did not mean to leave you alone with her.”

“I’m fine.” Shelby swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

“What did she say to you, Shelby Jo?”

His eyes swam with a mix of anger and concern, but Shelby couldn’t think of anything light to say to ease his worry. “Let’s talk about it later, okay?” she said. “I don’t want her to ruin my night.”

Hakim looked unconvinced and led her back to mingle with the crowd. For the remainder of the evening, he did not leave her side.

Chapter Sixteen

Sheik Rashid, Prince Hakim, and Shelby Walker watched as the last guest left through the entrance hall, appearing on the surface to be a perfectly happy family. Hakim’s heart felt heavy, and he wished the image wasn’t merely a façade. If only his father could see how much he cared about Shelby and wanted her to be a part of their lives.

The Sheik hadn’t been pleased when Hakim had wanted Shelby at his side to greet their guests. But Hakim had insisted. Shelby was not a secret. He was not ashamed of her, and he wished his father felt the same.

Everyone had enjoyed themselves, and Hakim and his father had strengthened valuable alliances.
The night was a success
. He smiled when he thought of Shelby making sure Shanayze took her picture with the President and the First Lady. The Mannens had both hugged her before they left, and Hakim had seen her wipe her eyes when they spoke about their flight home to the U.S. He knew Shelby was homesick and wished he could make everything perfect here.