The Sheikh's Priceless Bride (The Sheikh's New Bride Book 1)

by Holly Rayner

  Khizar read through the menu, and wondered how Jacqueline was getting by charging those prices. No wonder her store wasn’t turning a profit.

  If Jacqueline had the diamond, she might be thinking about selling it. The money would give her more than a comfortable life, and if she wanted to continue running a bakery, it would give her the freedom to move to a better store, or even buy a building of her own. She could expand and not have to worry about financing ever again. Or turning a profit, for that matter.

  If the diamond was in her possession, which was a long shot, Khizar was sure he could convince her to sell it to him. But if she didn’t have it, maybe there was something in her family history that would give him a clue to where it might be.

  He looked again at the file James had given him and noted that Jacqueline’s social media handles were listed. Khizar found her accounts and read through the posts. Her pictures were a combination of her business, a few that looked like a small group of friends, and several from charity events.

  Khizar traced the events and organizations mentioned in the photos’ captions and confirmed that Jacqueline was active in a few local charities. She supported a local organization that placed foster kids in homes, as well as some other charities that worked to end homelessness in the city.

  There were pictures from a banquet held the year before at which Jacqueline had been honored with a Volunteer of the Year award. She smiled brightly at the camera, one arm looped around the waist of an older woman, each of them with a hand holding the plaque engraved with Jacqueline’s name.

  He also found a few pictures of her with the family that had adopted her, all of them at a picnic for the city’s adoption agency. Jacqueline was surrounded by kids in several of the pictures, and it was clear that she was happy and having fun.

  The Sheikh studied one of the photos more closely. Eyes the color of a rich sapphire stared back at him, framed by impossibly long, dark lashes. Long, auburn hair with just a bit of wave to it fell over one shoulder, and full lips curved up in a smile as she laughed at whoever was taking the picture.

  There was nothing of Bill Bauer in her face, but Khizar was certain that her laugh was all her great-uncle.

  Khizar decided he liked her. Yes, she was beautiful, but she also appeared kind and happy, even though life had dealt her a bad hand. Jacqueline looked like the type of person that would go out of her way to help anyone in need, and he could admire that about her.

  It didn’t hurt that a willingness to be helpful would aid him on his quest to find and acquire the Bauer Diamond. Especially if he shared her interests.

  Khizar looked back through the list of organizations and picked three. From her pictures and social media posts, they seemed to be Jacqueline’s favorites. Through ‘common interests’, he could win his way into her good graces and get to know her better. Once he had her trust, he could ask her more about her family, and then find out if she knew anything about the diamond.

  Khizar put the papers carefully back in the file and pushed it across the table, strategizing. It would take some time and careful maneuvering. He would have to convince Jacqueline that he was interested in her life, but given that she was an attractive woman, he wouldn’t find that task burdensome.

  He appreciated that she was a businesswoman, even if she obviously needed some help there, and that she engaged in charitable giving. Khizar could work with those qualities, and show her that he was the kind of man she could open up to.

  The Sheikh nodded to himself. He would get the diamond, whatever it took, but he could be generous and help Bill Bauer’s great-niece in the process. If the old man was looking down on him from somewhere, surely he would be pleased enough to send a little luck Khizar’s way.

  His plan was a little unorthodox, but in the end, it would be worth it.

  Chapter 2

  Jacqui

  The muffin-shaped clock that hung on the wall to the left of the register ticked a little too loudly. Or, maybe, Jacqui thought, it was just that there was no other noise to cover the sound.

  The long case that ran the length of the front counter was full of pastries and other baked goods. The smaller case on the side wall held several cakes of various sizes, and the tall racks behind the front counter still had bags of cookies and brownies sitting on the shelves.

  Jacqui had been on her feet since four that morning, baking fresh pastries for the morning rush, such as it was. She’d opened her doors at six and had been greeted by a few loyal customers who worked in the office buildings surrounding the bakery.

  Other customers had stopped in throughout the morning, and Jacqui knew all of them. There was Linda, a single mom with darling five-year-old twin girls, and Ari, a college student who liked the sweet rolls that reminded him of the ones his mother made. Tim, a cop who lived in the new condo building next door, always stopped in on his way home when he worked the graveyard shift.

  Lyssa, a college student who helped Jacqui out around the bakery and was pretty much the only extra help Jacqui could afford, leaned beside her on the counter.

  “Can I do anything else, boss?”

  Jacqui sighed. “No, but thanks, Lyssa.”

  “I bet next week will be better,” Lyssa said encouragingly.

  Jacqui sighed again, this time silently to herself. Lyssa had been saying the same thing almost every week since she’d started working there. At first, it had been endearing. Now, Jacqui thought, it was borderline sad. Because it wasn’t getting any better and there was a good chance she wasn’t going to be able to pay Lyssa any longer, which meant she would be out of a job and Jacqui wouldn’t have any help around the shop.

  Lyssa bumped her shoulder lightly, reminding Jacqui of her presence, and Jacqui tried to give her a smile in return.

  “Hey, are you ready for your midterm?” Jacqui asked.

  Lyssa was getting her culinary arts degree, and was in her final year of the program. Jacqui knew that this midterm was a critical test for her.

  Lyssa nodded. “I have the recipe I want to use, and I know what modifications I want to make to it based on all the things they might ask us to do.”

  Jacqui gave her a look of approval. “Good. What recipe are you going to use?”

  “The coconut layer cake. I can turn it into cupcakes or a sheet cake, and if they get really wild with us, I can use it for muffins or a quick sweet bread.”

  Lyssa ticked ideas off on her fingers.

  “I’ve got a plan for a Meyer lemon curd filling and coconut icing or an orange and chocolate glaze.” She held up her hand, palm out. “And I’ve heard that they sometimes try to throw the class by asking us to make something that could be used for Thanksgiving or Christmas, because nobody is thinking about winter holidays in late March.”

  Jacqui laughed.

  “Culinary instructors will keep you on your toes. So, what’s your plan?”

  Lyssa gave her a triumphant look.

  “Cranberry and lime icing. It turns out this really pretty red, and I’ve figured out how to turn lime peel into little Christmas trees. They’re a little abstract, but I can make it work.”

  “Okay, I’ve officially put that on our menu for the holidays this year. Count on making that cake here.”

  Lyssa laughed and Jacqui could see she was pleased at her boss’s approval, but then she grew more serious.

  “Am I going to be working here during the holidays?” Lyssa asked.

  Jacqui hesitated.

  “I…don’t know, Lys. Business is, well, bad.” She waved around, indicating the empty room. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. If something good doesn’t happen soon, I may have to close.”

  Lyssa looked sad and Jacqui shrugged.

  “To be honest, I don’t know how much longer I can afford to pay you,” she said.

  “Then don’t pay me. I get enough practice here; it’s worth it just to give me the edge in school.”

  Jacqui smiled, but shook her head.

  “Don�
�t ever work for free, Lys. You’re too talented and too valuable to do that. People who ask you to work for nothing aren’t worth working for.”

  Lyssa thought about that.

  “Well, it’s not for nothing, because you let me use the kitchen here for my projects.” She laid her hands on the counter and pushed herself upright. “Tell you what—normally, I bring in my own supplies when I bake here. Instead of a paycheck, why don’t you pay me by letting me use the bakery’s supplies? Anything I don’t have to take into class, you can sell, if it meets your approval.”

  Jacqui knew that was still a better deal for her than it was for the younger woman, and she pulled Lyssa into a close hug.

  “Done. And if we sell your creations, you get a cut.” Lyssa started to protest, but Jacqui shook her head. “That’s my final offer.”

  Lyssa hugged Jacqui back. “Fine. We’ll do it your way, boss lady.”

  “Okay, now go to class and wow them with your mad skills.”

  Lyssa stepped back and tossed her a jaunty salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jacqui rolled her eyes and tossed one of the white cotton towels she kept behind the counter at her employee. Lyssa caught it, laughing, and headed into the back of the shop. She returned a less than a minute later, without her apron and with a backpack and light jacket. She waved as she walked out the front door of the store.

  Jacqui waved back and then settled against the counter again. Now, it really was too quiet.

  She decided to take care of a few chores, but even placing the next week’s order for supplies and wiping down the cases only took a short time. It wasn’t long before Jacqui found herself drumming her fingers on the counter again.

  She turned to go back into the kitchen and then heard the bell above the shop door ring out. Jacqui turned back around, a smile on her face, to greet the new customer.

  Holy cow, she thought, the guy’s gorgeous. Like seriously, magnificently gorgeous.

  Perfect jet-black hair cut short, but not too short. Just a hint of beard stubble, sexy but still well-groomed. Shoulders that hinted at strength under a tailored jacket that Jacqui was pretty sure cost more than the store’s rent.

  Jacqui had to look up at him as he walked up to the counter. She managed to say, “Welcome to Bauer’s Bakery. What can I get for you today?”

  The grin he gave her in response made her knees weak.

  “I’m hoping you can help me with a small project.”

  Now, Jacqui was on guard, even as she was still feeling a little flush from the heat of his grin.

  “What kind of project?” she asked warily.

  To his credit, he toned down the wattage on his smile and gave her a sincere look.

  “I’m new in town, here for a little while. I own a jewelry company, and I have this little tradition. Because I’ve been so blessed with earthly riches, I like to find a way to share some of that with any new city I visit.” He shrugged. “It’s just something I do to make the city feel a little more like home while I’m there.”

  Jacqui tilted her head and studied him. “That’s an interesting way to do things. Are you looking to share those riches with me?”

  He laughed, and the sound was heavenly.

  “In a way. I saw a few homeless people on the streets on my drive in from the airport. I thought I might buy some food to hand out. I didn’t want anything elaborate, since I know that’s hard to do on short notice, and something that they won’t necessarily have to eat right away.” He gestured at the pastry-filled cases. “I saw your bakery and thought you might be able to help.”

  “Sure,” Jacqui said. “I’d be happy to sell you stuff to give away. How much would you like to buy?”

  “All of it.”

  Jacqui was convinced she’d heard wrong, but the man just watched her evenly.

  “All of it?”

  “Yes.” He nodded firmly.

  “Um…” she looked around, thinking. “Okay. Even the cakes?”

  The man looked at the cakes and pies, and then back at her. “Even the cakes. Surely the homeless deserve a treat, too.”

  Jacqui blushed and shook her head.

  “No, it’s just… How do you want to hand those out? We generally sell them whole, but I can do slices, too, if that’s what you want.”

  “Ah.”

  It was the only answer Jacqui got and she could see him thinking rapidly.

  She finally asked, “Where do you plan to hand things out?”

  He gave her a small, somehow more genuine smile, and said, “I don’t know, really. I was going to drive back through my earlier route, and then maybe look for a soup kitchen or something similar. Perhaps, um, you might offer some suggestions?”

  Jacqui smiled at him gently and nodded.

  “I know a few organizations, including a local shelter, that would be delighted to have a few cakes or pies on hand for meals today.”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  Jacqui stood up straighter and looked around.

  “Well, then. Let me get to work.”

  She started to gather boxes and bags, and then opened the case to pull out trays of baked goods. Jacqui noticed that her customer was pacing a little in the small front area.

  “Would you like some coffee or something?” she asked. “On me. It’s the least I can do for my best customer of the day.”

  “No, thank you.” He stood there and watched her, then hesitantly asked, “Would you like some help?”

  Jacqui thought for a moment. She wasn’t comfortable with him being behind the counter—insurance policies didn’t look kindly on customers being back there—but he could box things up as she laid them out.

  “Sure. Let me grab some bigger boxes, and you can use the tables to portion the smaller bags out into groups of items.”

  He nodded and between the two of them, it didn’t take long to package everything up. Jacqui put each of the whole cakes and pies into a separate box, and had the handsome man put them into three different carriers, so they could easily go to the different organizations.

  As Jacqui finished bringing out the last of the cookies from behind the counter, he pulled out a checkbook and began writing. He tore the check out and handed it to Jacqui as she closed the last box.

  Jacqui's eyes widened as she read the check. “I need to ring everything up to be sure, but even with taxes, I think you’ve overpaid.”

  He shook his head and held up a hand.

  “I have a head for numbers. I calculated based on your menu prices,” he said and looked up. “Plus, I added taxes and a sufficient fee to cover your time and effort in packing everything up.”

  “It is indeed sufficient. It’s really more than. Thank you.”

  Jacqui wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth. The amount was enough to keep the bakery up and running for a few more weeks, and obviously, this guy could afford it.

  She walked back behind the counter to put the check in the register.

  “Here, let me write down the addresses of the places you can go to deliver all this stuff.”

  He nodded, and then shrugged a little sheepishly. “Thank you. And, uh, maybe you could give me a hand carrying everything out to the car?”

  Jacqui couldn’t help but laugh merrily. “Of course!” Then, she had an idea. “Actually, if you’d like, I’d be happy to go with you and just show you the places. I know the staff at each of them, and can call in advance to let them know we’re coming.”

  He sighed in what sounded like relief. “That would be wonderful. I’d be delighted to have you along. That is, if you don’t have any work to do?”

  Jacqui laughed again. “As it so happens, someone bought out all my stock, so I think I can close for the day. Let’s carry everything out, and then give me five minutes to lock up.”

  They loaded the car—an extremely luxurious SUV, Jacqui noted. When they were done, she ran back into the shop, put the register drawer in the safe, turned off the lights, and flipped the s
ign on the door to closed. Everything was already clean, so the rest of her normal procedure could wait until later.

  When Jacqui got back to the car, he was holding the passenger door open for her. She started to get in and then hesitated.

  “I just realized I don’t know your name. I mean, I know the name on your check, but is that what your friends call you?”

  He laughed. “Part of it, yes. I do have a rather lengthy name. My friends and family just call me Khizar, though.”

  Jacqui shook his hand. “I’m Jacqui. Nice to meet you, Khizar.”

  Once in the car, she directed him to a shelter that served meals throughout the afternoon and called the kitchen director, who was a friend of hers. On the drive, she pointed out a few Milwaukee landmarks and key buildings.

  Once at the shelter, they were met at the kitchen entrance by a jovial woman with tanned skin and a wide smile.

  “Jacqui! What have you brought me today?”

  “Dessert!” She gestured to the man beside her. “Denise, this is Khizar. He bought a few things from the bakery today so that he could donate food to people that needed it.”

  Denise shook Khizar’s hand. “That’s kind of you, Khizar. Why don’t you two bring what you’ve got inside?”

  She held the door as Khizar and Jacqui carried several boxes and a few bags in. Jacqui pointed Khizar toward a long counter along the wall, where they set everything down, and then she gave Denise a quick rundown of the contents of the bags and boxes.

  They left the shelter a few minutes later, and Khizar drove back along the route he’d taken in from the airport. They stopped at a few places, handing out bags of muffins and other breads, as well as cookies. Jacqui recognized a few faces from the local shelters, and she moved comfortably among the groups they encountered.

  After a visit to another shelter to drop off more cakes and pies, Jacqui directed Khizar to a different location. He parked the car in front of a small building next to a large church, and Jacqui told him about the organization as they walked inside.