The Sheikh's Christmas Present (Shadid Sheikhs 2)

“Money talks,” he said easily. His body remained relaxed as he leaned against the frame of the plane. His was far too large for the space, and he seemed to steal all the oxygen. “And, I’m willing to pay.”

“No,” Maria said instantly.

“One-hundred-thousand-dollars.”

Silence settled in the cockpit as his words sunk in. She gaped. “Excuse me?” she squeaked.

The man smirked. “I’m Sheikh Jarik Shadid. I’m second in line for the crown, and I am desperate to leave the country as soon as possible. You wouldn’t turn me down, would you?”

Maria narrowed her eyes. “I don’t care who you are, I won’t let you bully us into doing your bidding.”

“Not even for the size of the donation I’m offering?” he asked quietly.

Maria rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Ms. Walken, I assure you that I am not.”

He knew her name? She really needed to have a talk with airport security. “Mr. Shadid….”

“Sheikh Shadid,” he reminded her. The interruption only made her narrow her eyes even more.

“Jarik,” she said emphatically. A flicker of annoyance passed across his eyes, and she couldn’t help but mentally pump her fist in victory. “This is not a passenger plane. I have cargo that needs to make it to Syria on time.”

“I’m aware of that. I’m also aware that you have two seats still empty on the plane, and I will not keep you from meeting your goals. Your little charity is admirable, and I’m sure you could do quite a bit with the money that I’m offering you.”

She couldn’t argue with his logic, but she wasn’t going to let him get his way that easily. “You’re so used to having your way,” Maria muttered. Angrily, she glanced at the window and saw that they were about to fuel the plane. “You toss money at a problem and expect it to go away. You don’t actually work toward anything, do you?”

Tessa cleared her throat, but she ignored her. Jarik raised an eyebrow. “I find it hard to believe that you’d have work for me to do during the flight. As you’ve said, this is not a passenger plane.”

“Double the money, and you work for me when we land. You volunteer in the camp, help me unload the cargo, and you have yourself a deal.”

Jarik cocked his head as he stared at her. “I have an appointment in Lebanon. Outside of that, I’m all yours.”

“Really?” She cringed inwardly at her squeak of a response.

“You’re not giving me much of a choice, are you?” A small smile played on his face. “It might be fun.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” she snapped. “I’m going to do a final systems’ check. Make yourself comfortable, Sheikh. I have a feeling it’s going to be a rough ride for you.”

With a satisfied smile on her face, she winked at Tessa and settled in the pilot’s seat. Putting on her headset, she started to do the final check for all her instruments. “This is Flight 237 requesting permission to take-off.”

“Flight 237, there is a snow storm brewing fifty miles into your flight. Air control recommends that you stay grounded.”

“Not happening, boys.”

There was a chuckle on the other side of the headset. “All right, Flight 237. You’re cleared for takeoff.”

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Settling back in her seat, she gripped the control wheel and relaxed. Soon she’d be up in the air, flying high above the evils on the ground below. It was one of the few times that she ever felt at peace. Maybe she’d even forget the gorgeous man who’d just hijacked her plane with money and a dazzling smile.

Jarik listened to the women chat up front, and as much as he wanted to learn more about the beautiful pilot, his mind was whirling.

Sheikh Jabreel, the crowned Sheikh of Al-Harmid and his father, would throw a fit if he knew what Jarik had just done. Even his older brother, Kashif, wouldn’t be pleased, but Kivi was his responsibility. They had to at least understand that.

It was easy enough to get away undetected. This time of the year, the three brothers tended to go their separate ways. Samir, the youngest, was on his way to party through Europe. The rake of Al-Harmid had a reputation to uphold. Kashif was on his way to America to compete in some ridiculous dog-sledding race, and Jarik had simply told his father that he needed some time away.

He could envision Kashif, his non-nonsense brother, accusing him of tilting at windmills telling him to save the outlandish behavior for their younger brother, Samir.