The Sheik's Ruby (22 page)

Aaliya, apparently aware of the rise in Shelby’s stress level, led her to a chair. “Miss Walker, before you try on any gowns, we will establish which colors and styles you like and dislike. That will make our task much easier.”

Shanayze and Aaliya alternated pulling gowns off the racks to show Shelby. She discovered the two women had very different tastes. Shanayze preferred dark colors and high necklines, while Aaliya chose bright, airy fabrics and styles Shelby found much more exciting. In about a half-hour, they had narrowed their selection to around ten, and Shelby began to try them on.

She and Aaliya finally decided on a deep turquoise silk gown. It reminded Shelby of something glamorous from the Audrey Hepburn era. The gown had a sweetheart neckline and a fitted bodice which Aaliya thought flattered Shelby’s figure splendidly, while still adhering to the Arabian culture’s tradition of modesty. The hem touched the floor, and Shelby was glad the skirt hung long enough to cover the scars on her leg.

Aaliya helped her pick out stylish gold stilettos.

The seamstress took away the dress, and then Shanayze left.

Shelby put her robe back on and helped Aaliya clean up the rest of the gowns.

“Aaliya”—Shelby shook out a gown and hung it on a hanger—“Did you pick out all of these dresses?”

Aaliya lifted her gaze to Shelby’s. “Yes.” She took the dress Shelby was holding and hung it on the rack.

Shelby picked up another from the back of a chair. “All of this work must have taken you forever.”

“No. It did not take long. I know where the best stores are.” Aaliya shrugged.

Shelby ran her hand over the hanging dresses, making the skirts swish, “Which is your favorite?”

Aaliya’s eyes sparkled as she pulled out the skirt of a soft green dress.

Shelby took it from the rack. “So, what are you waiting for? Put it on!”

“No, Miss Walker.” Aaliya shook her head and spread her fingers on her collarbone. “That would be very improper.”

“I just spent at least two hours trying on dresses you picked out, and you don’t get to try on any? Come on, Aaliya, please?” Shelby extended the dress.

“Miss Walker, I am your assistant. It is not my place.”

Shelby saw the hesitation in Aaliya’s face. “Aaliya, I think it would be beneficial to see that dress on you. Would you please
assist
me and put it on?” She winked.

Aaliya took the offered gown and stepped into the bathroom. Then she emerged, wearing it.

Shelby took her hand and led her onto the stair in front of the mirrors. “Now, twirl around.”

She spun and admired herself in the mirror. Aaliya’s dark skin shone in the light dress. The sheer fabric hung in layers making her look as if she were floating.

“Aaliya, you are so beautiful,” Shelby said. “You should be going to this party instead of me.”

“I am not the one the prince has chosen, Miss Walker.”

“Will you do me a favor? Can you call me Shelby? I know you have to be proper and everything, but I could really use a friend here.”

“Of course, Shelby. Although I am not sure if Shanayze would entirely approve.”

Both women burst out laughing at this. And for the first time since she arrived in Khali-dar, Shelby didn’t feel alone.

****

Waxing, filing, polishing, and tweezing occupied the rest of the day. The beautician spent nearly an hour styling and straightening Shelby’s thick hair. After the styling was through, Shelby couldn’t believe how soft it felt. Two gold combs worn low behind her ears held her hair away from her face. A makeup artist made Shelby’s freckles and the scar on her forehead disappear.

Aaliya helped Shelby into all of the undergarments, nylons, and her gown. She stepped into her shoes and put on a tasteful gold necklace and sparkling bracelet. Staring into the mirror, Shelby couldn’t believe the transformation. An elegant, beautiful woman with sleek auburn hair gazed back.
What happened to the cowgirl with the red curls and freckles?

“You look lovely.” Aaliya clasped her hands under her chin. “The prince will be proud to have you by his side tonight.”

Shanayze appeared in the doorway to take Shelby to the reception.

Shelby stepped down from the podium between the mirrors. She grabbed her camera from where it sat on the desk and handed it to Shanayze. “Here goes nothing.” Shelby followed Shanayze down the grand staircase, concentrating on walking down the steps in her heels, and at first didn’t notice Hakim standing at the bottom. When she saw him, Shelby felt her butterflies return. This was the first time she had seen Hakim dressed as a prince.

He wore a black tuxedo with a white tie and a striped sash in the colors of Khali-dar’s flag crossing his chest from shoulder to waist. He stood straight and tall. As he watched her descend, Hakim opened his mouth slightly, and he took a small step back. “You are beautiful,” he said in a quiet voice, regaining his composure and reaching for her hand.

She glanced at their reflection in one of the mirrored walls across the room. The vision was surreal. The two of them looked like they belonged in a scene from an old-fashioned movie. “Thanks. So do you.” She motioned to Shanayze. “Is it okay if we take a picture for my mom?”

He leaned close, brushing his whiskers on her ear. “I have a surprise for you.”

Feeling Hakim’s breath on her neck sent shivers over her skin. She raised a brow in question.

Hakim smiled but didn’t say any more.

They walked through the entrance hall and joined the Sheik who wore a traditional gold robe with black edging over a simpler white robe. The wide sleeves and the silk fabric whisked around him as he moved. On his head he wore a white
keffiyeh
held in place by black rope.

Shelby thought it made him appear even more Sheik-like and intimidating.

He glanced at Hakim’s tuxedo and, for a quick second, a spark of disapproval flashed in his eyes.

Was his father disappointed Hakim hadn’t dressed in robes, too? Shelby felt a jolt in her chest at the realization that Hakim had chosen to dress like
her
and not his father. Did he want to make her more comfortable? To send a message to his father? Shelby hated being the cause of bad feelings between Hakim and his father. She worried the Sheik felt as though his son was turning his back on his culture and Khali-dar, too. She resolved to talk to Hakim about it later.

The Sheik leaned his cane against a pillar, placed his hands together, and bowed a greeting.

“
As-salaamu ‘alaykum.
” Shelby bowed her head as she used the formal salutation.

“You look very beautiful tonight, Shelby Walker.”

“Thank you.” She cast her gaze downward. How could he say such nice words and still make them feel like an insult?

Hakim stepped between them and wrapped his arm around her waist. He led her past the entry and toward the ballroom.

Shelby was immediately comforted by his closeness, and at the same time, her pulse sped as the heat from his arm warmed her through her dress.

From her short glance outside as they passed through the entrance hall, Shelby saw the first cars arrive. Some were limousines with little flags on them, while others were shiny luxury cars. Shelby thought it looked like a parade. The palace swarmed with security. Guards spoke into the two-way radios on their wrists as they scanned the grounds and the guests. She saw Nasir, wearing a tuxedo and keeping a close eye on everyone, especially Hakim.

Hakim seemed unable to take his gaze from her. The way he regarded her made her feel beautiful, and she stood a little taller and her anxieties started to melt away. No matter what happened tonight, she would make him proud.

The reception was held in the grand ballroom. A colonnade of elegant pillars stretched down the two long sides of the large rectangular room, appearing to support a high, barrel-vaulted ceiling. Arabian-shaped archways rose between the pillars. The ceiling was the actual focus of the room. Soffits of arches were decorated with sculpted designs and the panels in between stood out, painted with geometric patterns in beautiful, bright colors. Massive gold chandeliers shaped in minarets gave the room a beautiful glow. The floor was a dark, almost black wood. The same intricately carved wood separated the wall panels on the two shorter sides of the room and framed the large entry ways. They had come in through one arched door. The other was closed, and an exquisite cloth mantle hung across it.

Hakim and Shelby took their place next to the Sheik at the ballroom entrance.

Shelby smiled and shook hands as she was introduced to ambassadors and heads of states. Many hailed from countries she’d never heard of. The memory of telling Hakim she was good at geography on the day they met made her grimace.

Hakim introduced her as his friend. Most of the visitors greeted her politely, but a few raised their eyebrows or gave him a knowing look. Hakim, gracious as ever, maintained a polite smile. They were guests in his house, after all.

As Shelby watched the endless line of visitors, she noticed Hakim stiffen. She glanced up and saw that he still smiled, but his face seemed tense. “You okay?”

He gave a terse nod, glancing to his left at the people speaking with his father.

Shelby leaned forward to observe three people that she assumed were a family.

Exchanging bows with the Sheik was a middle-aged man dressed in traditional Arabian clothing. He was tall and slightly overweight, but something about the way he carried himself drew her gaze. He was obviously used to commanding attention. Two women, one middle aged and one much younger, accompanied him. Shelby assumed they were his wife and daughter.

As she observed the man, Shelby felt the sensation of somebody watching her. She looked at the daughter. The hateful glare coming from her dark brown eyes caused Shelby to suck in a quick breath. She stepped back until Hakim blocked her view.

The man stepped toward them and took Hakim’s hand. They spoke in Arabic for a few moments.

Hakim turned and flashed her a tight smile. “Shelby, I would like you to meet Samir bin Kareem Abul-Rahman. He is the patriarch of an important family in Khali-dar.” Hakim turned to the man and continued in English, “And this is my friend, Shelby Jo Walker, from the United States.”

Samir bin Kareem Abul-Rahman squinted his eyes and lifted his chin as he watched Shelby with an appraising look.

She put her hands together and bowed. “
Ahlan wa sahlan.”
She hoped she wasn’t expected to remember his entire name.

“
Ahlan wa sahlan
,” he replied, though his expression carried none of the warmth of the greeting.

“I would also like to introduce you to Samir’s wife, Ramah, and his daughter, Ghaniyah.”

Both women were very beautiful, and they knew it. Shelby felt disapproval flowing from them like poisonous gas. Up close, she saw the details on their gowns and their elaborate jewelry. Both wore headscarves. Hanging from her scarf, medallions of gold with gemstones and pearls brushed Ghaniyah’s forehead. The gold contrasted strikingly against her dark skin. Her eyes, lined in black, gave her a fierce appearance.

Shelby couldn’t help comparing her to Aaliya. Their features were similar, but where Aaliya’s face showed kindness, Ghaniyah’s displayed a sharp haughtiness. Shelby offered her hand to the women, but they both ignored her gesture. Her face colored as she saw the loathing in their eyes. Was their reaction because she was American? Or because she was with Hakim? Or both?

Luckily, she was spared any future discomfort as the women saw friends they knew and hurried away.

“I’m sorry, Shelby Jo,” Hakim whispered in her ear. “I did not expect such a discourteous reaction.”

“Ouch. Was that your ex-girlfriend or something?” She struggled to shake off the sick feeling Ghaniyah’s reaction produced.

Hakim answered slowly. “I believe if things had worked out the way she and her parents had intended, Ghaniyah would be the one standing beside me tonight.”

“Oh.” Shelby stole a glance over her shoulder.

They had greeted guests for nearly half an hour when Hakim squeezed her hand. “Your surprise is here,” he whispered.

Shelby glanced around but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, until she looked closer at the man speaking with the Sheik. With a start, she recognized the President of the United States.

The President put his hands together and bowed a greeting to Hakim.

“Welcome, President Mannen, Mrs. Mannen. I would like you to meet Shelby Jo Walker. She is a citizen of your country and a dear friend of mine.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Walker.” The President shook her hand.

Shelby stood frozen in shock. Recovering quickly, but not quickly enough, she sputtered, “You’re…” She shook her head.
Smooth, Shelby
. “President Mannen. It’s a pleasure to meet you. And Mrs. Mannen. How do you do?”
Where is Shanayze with my camera?

“We are so pleased you could attend this evening.” Hakim bowed as he shook their hands. “Please, make yourselves welcome.”

“Thank you, Prince Hakim.” The President and the First Lady moved into the entrance hall and followed the ushers into the ballroom.

Hakim turned with a grin.

“Go ahead and laugh.” She gave him a little shove. “I was so surprised I didn’t know what to say. What if he finds out I didn’t vote for him?”

Hakim laughed out loud and spread his hand toward the doorway. “Come. All of the guests have arrived.”

Shelby walked next to him, and they joined the crowd in the ballroom.

Hakim was still chuckling.

Crisp white cloths draped over the round tables throughout one side of the room. Hakim led her to the head table. Out of nowhere, a man in a server’s uniform slid back an intricately carved dining chair to seat her next to the First Lady.

“Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes?” Hakim asked. “There are people I feel I must speak to.”

“Sure. I’ll be fine here.” She fingered a blue glass goblet, pretending to be admiring the gold detail, and hoping she didn’t appear nervous as he left her. Shelby noticed how straight and tall Hakim walked and wished some of his confidence would rub off.