The Sheikh’s Mail-Order Bride: Halabi Sheikhs Book Three

by North, Leslie

  “And that poly blend shirt.”

  “Hey. This is silk.” He held it out for her to feel, and she did so with a giggle. It kind of felt like poly blend, but it wasn’t worth bursting his bubble over.

  Inside the museum, the air was cool. Jayne hugged herself, shivering, and Danny draped his jacket over her shoulders. She drew it around her and smiled.

  “Noah would love this place. We have to come back with him.”

  “And we will,” said Danny. “But Graham was dying for that playdate. And I couldn’t resist the chance to have you to myself.” He drew her farther in, his enthusiasm kindling her own. “The best part’s actually outside,” he said. “There’s a life-size recreation of an active dig, and you can walk through it, see how they do everything. There are live demonstrations, and they even let you try.” He glanced at the cameras and lowered his voice. “Actually, that’s why there are so many cameras. The dig’s perfect for parkour, and back in high school—”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did.” He ducked his head, shamefaced. “We never broke anything that I know of. But the night watchman saw, and he told my father. Those cameras came out of my allowance.”

  “As well they should.” Jayne tried to sound stern, but it was hard to smother her laughter. They stopped in front of an elaborate tableau, a family in traditional dress gathered around a low table, sharing a meal by lamplight.

  “Those plates commemorate Unification Day, the designs around the edges,” said Danny. “Al-Mifadhir used to be two countries, the Upper Kingdom and the Silver Valley.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “There wasn’t actually any silver, but there was a river. It’s dried up now, but until about six hundred years ago, you could see it by moonlight, this thin silver thread winding down to the sea. Anyway, the Upper Kingdom wanted that river, and there was almost a war, but the princess of the Valley snuck across the border. She negotiated so well they formed Al-Mifadhir instead.”

  Jayne glanced at the writeup, disbelieving. Danny’s story sounded like a fairy tale, but he was mostly right. The kingdoms had fought over an oasis, not a river, but the princess had put a stop to it, just as he’d said.

  “And this kandurah.” Danny moved on to the next display, face lighting up. A faded red robe hung in its glass case, rich golden embroidery across the chest and shoulders. “It was found perfectly preserved, nearly eight hundred years old. It probably belonged to one of the first kings of Al-Mifadhir. My father had a replica made for his coronation—see, there?” He pointed at a portrait of the king and his glowing queen, posing together on the steps of the palace.

  “Your parents look happy.”

  “They were.” Danny turned back to the exhibit. “You see that stitching on the sleeves, the geometric designs around the cuffs? That style’s still popular today, sort of an Al-Mifadhir trademark. You’ll even see it on casual clothes, just printed on.”

  Jayne leaned close to inspect it, impressed by the intricacy of the design. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”

  “Audio books.” Danny grinned. “I listen all the time—when I’m driving, during my morning run. When my brothers are droning on. I don’t know how people read, when you have to sit down to do it.”

  “Some of us like sitting down.”

  “Mm, not me. I’ve got to keep moving.” Danny did a little jig by way of demonstration. Jayne chuckled, moving on to the next exhibit.

  “No flies on you, huh? Did you do history in college?”

  “Ha. College. Funny story, there.” Danny peered through the glass, seemingly fascinated by the array of ancient weapons laid out on the other side. “I went, but I don’t know. Maybe I was too young. It wasn’t for me.” He bounced on the balls of his feet. “It felt like everything was happening out here, and I was in there...I could feel my whole life passing me by. Maybe I’d have been better taking a gap year, but what’s done is done.”

  “You could always go back if you wanted.”

  “Could I?” He shifted a little closer, his shoulder brushing hers. A little shiver raced down her spine, tantalizing and distracting in equal measure. “And if I wanted to hold your hand? Could I do that?”

  “You’re deflecting,” she murmured, though she wasn’t sure she minded. Not with his head bent so close to hers, his breath warm on her cheek.

  “I’m what?”

  She gasped as his knuckles brushed her thigh. “Doing that, and you know how distracting it is.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? You’re beautiful, you’re single, and—” He made a show of scanning the room. “And, yep. No one’s looking.” His eyes narrowed, then, and he crowded her against the wall, so close his lips nearly brushed hers. She could smell his cologne, a dark, subtle spice, and it took all the willpower she had to lay her hands on his chest, keeping some distance between them.

  “You’ll never get close to anyone if you won’t let them in.”

  Danny’s smile turned sour. He took half a step back, and it was like a door had slammed shut, leaving her out in the cold. She felt a physical chill as he retreated, and she reached for him without thinking.

  “Wait.”

  “What?” Danny stiffened as she touched him, and that wasn’t good.

  “That came out wrong. What I meant was...I wouldn’t mind seeing more of you.” She winked, and it felt awkward, but Danny’s good spirits seemed to return.

  “How about I show you my favorite place?”

  “I’d be up for that.” Jayne shifted a little closer, seeking his warmth. To her surprise, Danny took her hand, gripping it firmly in his own.

  “Now, close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Just close them. And trust me.” His eyes took on a devilish glint. Jayne wasn’t sure she should, but she closed her eyes anyway. She felt the sun on her face as Danny led her outside, heard the ring of metal underfoot as they crossed some kind of walkway.

  “Now, there’s stairs,” he said. “Put out your left hand.”

  She did, and she found the railing. A warm breeze swirled around her ankles as they picked their way down a spiral staircase. Jayne swallowed fear—just how high up were they?

  “Five more steps,” said Danny, and Jayne relaxed. The smell of fresh-baked bread rose to greet her, and her mouth watered.

  “Where—where are we?”

  “Open your eyes.” Danny slid his arms around her waist from behind, and Jayne gasped aloud. He’d brought her to the bottom of a deep pit, a warren of rustic rooms carved out of the walls. An ancient stone oven stood in the central chamber, a woman in traditional garb stoking the fire beneath. Jayne’s heart fluttered as her gaze wandered up and up, landing on the narrow bridge they must’ve crossed to reach the stairs, and she’d never manage the return trip, not in a million—

  “We can take the elevator up.” Danny’s arms tightened around her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” Jayne let out a shaky breath. She was fine. He’d kept her safe, and she gripped his arms tightly. “So what is this place?”

  “Our capital’s like a lot of ancient cities—there are even older cities buried underneath.” He kept his arms around her as he spoke, his voice a soothing rumble against her back. “This isn’t a real dig—those are all closed to the public—but they’ve gone all-out on the details. Those columns, those carvings at the top, you can see those for real on our oldest buildings. And the bread she’s making, that’s an authentic recipe. Just three ingredients.”

  “It smells amazing.”

  “We can try some if you want. They serve it with hummus and olive oil, or honey if you prefer.” Danny smiled, so close Jayne felt his lips move. “Though I’d say you’re sweet enough.”

  Jayne purred at that, but she couldn’t ignore the seed of doubt taking root in her heart. Was Danny flirting because he felt it, because he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather break bread with in this enchanted place, or was this more distraction? More teasing? She hadn’t come to Al-Mifad
hir in search of love, only security, but something was happening, something warm and exciting, and how could she know it was real?

  She looked up at the sky and leaned into Danny’s arms. This was a great moment, a great day, but her mind was on tomorrow, and every tomorrow after that, and could Danny let down his guard? It took time, with some people, but this felt like something more, an impenetrable wall dressed up as charm.

  “So. What do you think? Glad you came?” Danny turned her to face him, a hopeful smile playing about his lips.

  “Best second date I’ve ever been on.” She leaned close, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I’m definitely looking forward to our third.”

  8

  Danny paused where he stood, massaging his temples. The Children’s Hospital gala was always a big one, but this was the first year they’d be holding it in the palace. He’d had a nagging feeling all day, the sense he’d forgotten something—some tiny, essential detail for Chadil to scold him for later.

  “The bidding sheets for the silent auction.”

  “Back from the calligrapher this morning, all checked and ready to go.” His secretary sidled up next to him, peering at his tablet. “One of the vases arrived broken, but—”

  “Already handled. I’ve arranged for a replacement of equal value and updated the catalog to match.” Danny’s frown faded, but his unease didn’t subside. “The dessert wine?”

  “Chilling.”

  “The red carpet?”

  “Cleaned and laid out.”

  “And the seating chart?” He scowled. “Prince Salman can’t come, so that leaves, ah—”

  “Here.” Another assistant stepped up, tablet at the ready, but Danny brushed it aside.

  “I don’t have time for that. Just tell me who’s next to him?”

  “His brother’s on the left. He’s still coming. On his right, I’ve got Kadir bin Abdulaziz.”

  “All right.” Danny closed his eyes, visualizing the table in his head. “Move Kadir to the empty seat, then that doctor beside him, the brilliant one. Dr. Najar. They’ll find plenty to talk about. What does that leave?”

  “Nothing, Your Highness. We’ve spaced out the places to accommodate any last-minute plus-ones, and your aunt’s just arrived, and she seems in good health.”

  “Good. Good.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, running over the details, but everything seemed fine—the dinner, the auction, the decorations for the garden—

  “There you are.” Bas strode through the double doors, Chadil at his elbow. Bas was smiling like the cat that got the cream, and Chadil looked just as pleased, nodding as he surveyed the room.

  “I must say, you’ve outdone yourself.” Bas clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve just come from the ballroom, and everything looks splendid.”

  “And the auction’s magnificent. I might bid on a piece or two myself.” Chadil almost smiled, and Danny’s tension eased up. This was progress. Chadil had been walking around under a cloud since Jayne had showed up. Maybe this party would earn his forgiveness.

  “I’m glad it meets with your approval,” said Danny. “I—I...” He trailed off as Jayne entered. All the light in the room seemed to bend toward her. She fairly glowed in her ballgown, a cream and gold number in the traditional Al-Mifadhir style, all flowing fabric and delicate embroidery. The gold thread across the bodice matched the gold of her hair, and Danny held his breath.

  “Hello?” Chadil snapped his fingers, but Danny ignored him. Jayne looked uncertain, a little dazzled, and he waved for her attention, shooting her his most disarming grin. Raina and his aunt Zenab were with her, but he hardly noticed them. He drank in her answering smile, bright as the sunrise, and it warmed him from head to toe. He felt his own worries dissolve as though they’d never mattered at all.

  “Prince Danyal.” A familiar voice interrupted, and Danny composed himself. He slapped on his royal face, friendly but not too friendly, open and serene.

  “Ah, Mr. Abboud. We’re so pleased you could come. How are things with your hotels?”

  “I’m so glad you asked.” The man glommed onto him like a limpet, drawing him away from his brothers. Danny listened with half an ear as he ran down his usual litany of complaints, this permit delayed, that competitor playing dirty. He nodded in all the right places, made the appropriate noises, but it was Jayne who had his attention. His heart raced when he glimpsed her across the room, now laughing, now chatting with his sister. She kept looking his way, perhaps for encouragement, and he smiled back every time.

  The hotelier spotted an investor and scampered off, leaving Danny to make the rounds. He nodded till his neck went stiff, laughed at a hundred bad jokes, and he lived for the moments when Jayne passed him by, close enough their hands brushed.

  “I hoped you might speak to your brother.” His latest guest edged closer, beard twitching with a life of its own. “Three months, I’ve been playing phone tag with his secretary. Surely he has an opening, some sort of—”

  “Mm-hm...” Danny frowned, distracted. Jayne was deep in conversation with an older man, gesturing animatedly as she made some point or another.

  “And I thought, with your influence—you could put in a word, couldn’t you?” The man plucked at his sleeve. Danny pulled away.

  “I’ll have a word,” he said, but who was that with Jayne? The man looked familiar—one of Chadil’s friends? He laughed, loud and booming, and Danny’s confusion deepened. He’d heard that laugh before, on the bus on school trips—a teacher? No, a chaperone. The father of one of his classmates, the director of some charity, something to do with...lunches for kids? Schools for the blind?

  Jayne beamed and shook his hand. He said something, and she laughed, then they both laughed, and Danny didn’t remember him being so funny. What business could they possibly—

  “—and you will speak to your brother, won’t you?”

  Danny hissed as his own companion clasped his arm. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, but Bas was perfectly capable of arranging his own schedule. He disengaged from the conversation with none of his usual grace, backing away so quickly he nearly bumped into his aunt. She linked arms with him and whisked him away from the crowd.

  “I don’t see why your brother has to invite that man,” she said. “His family might have influence, but he’s a bore.”

  “And how are you?” Danny stood back to look at her, searching for any signs of ill health, but her eyes fairly sparkled with life.

  “I’ve been getting to know your charming bride.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “She’s wonderful. I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”

  “High praise, indeed.” He searched for Jayne and found her by the windows, sharing some joke with Fiona. She caught sight of him and waved. “I thought she might be nervous, but I’d say she’s fitting right in.”

  “She’s embracing your world.” Zenab favored him with a wink. “Why don’t you go over there? Let her know how beautifully she’s doing?”

  “That’s a splendid idea.” He started across the room, but Jayne met him halfway, all smiles and rosy cheeks.

  “I was watching you,” she said. “There must be two hundred people here, and you know every one by name.”

  “Not every one.” He frowned, thinking of the man who’d amused her so, but Jayne didn’t seem to notice.

  “You were amazing. I could never do what you do, remembering all those details, who’s just had a promotion, who’s looking for a house. You’re the life of the party.”

  “It’s part of the job. They expect it.”

  “No, they don’t.” She edged closer to let a waiter pass by. “They don’t laugh with your brothers the way they do with you. You’re like everyone’s best friend. Most people can’t do that, even if they try.”

  “I’ve known most of them half my life. I enjoy it, hearing what everyone’s up to, catching up on their lives. I’d be happy to do it, even if it wasn’t my job.” He softened his tone, not wanting to lecture her. “A
nd you—you look stunning, that dress, your hair. You’re like a sunrise.” The music struck up, and he took her arm. “Shall we dance? It might be a little awkward, me with one arm, but I’m sure we’ll make it work.”

  “I’m sure we—oh!” Jayne gasped as he slid his good arm around her waist. He whirled her across the dance floor, and she laughed with delight, her hair streaming behind her as she spun. She fit in his embrace as if she’d been made for him, moved with him as if they’d been dancing all their lives. He led and she followed; he dipped her and she yielded. Her blue eyes shone. A murmur went through the crowd. Danny showed off a little, lifting her on his hip and executing a spin, setting her down light as a feather. Several guests applauded, and he spotted a familiar face among them, Jayne’s earlier companion.

  “That man with the diamond lapel pin—who is he?” He turned her as they danced so she could see the man in question.

  “Oh, Mr. Safar? He runs Education First. They design special needs curricula for underserved children. My master’s thesis was inspired by their work. I thought I’d send him my CV.”

  “Your CV. Of course.” Danny sighed with relief. He hadn’t truly suspected her of flirting with a man twice her age, but it was good to be sure. “Do you think you’ll work for him?”

  “Why? Are you jealous?”

  “Jealous!” He spun her out and caught her, pulled her close so her hair brushed his cheek. “Jealousy is for men with no confidence. I know I’m a prize.”

  Jayne laughed, a little breathless. “I’ve won, then, at least for tonight.”

  A hot bolt of excitement shot through him, setting the blood racing through his veins. His grip tightened at Jayne’s waist, and he pressed in to whisper in her ear. “Let’s not let the night ever end.”

  9

  The party passed in a blur, too quick for Jayne’s taste, and too slow. She wanted to savor every moment with Danny, but at the same time, she couldn’t wait for the guests to disperse, for the moment she’d have him to herself. He flirted with her through dinner, letting their pinkies brush as he passed her the salt. He kept it going through the silent auction, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered details on each piece. A blush rose to her cheeks, and she dipped her head to hide it, even as their knees brushed under the table.