id="u0c1384e5-b8a9-5f53-9229-b9e1ea881858">
Her Sheikh Protector
Linda Conrad
Table of Contents
A bestselling author of more than twenty-five books, LINDA CONRAD has received numerous industry awards, among them the National Reader’s Choice Award, the Maggie, the Write Touch Readers’ Award and the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. To contact Linda, read more about her books or to sign up for her newsletter and/or contests, go to her website at www. LindaConrad.com.
To Jo Ann Zimmerman, who lived one of the most romantic stories of two people meeting that I have ever read. thanks for your story! And to the amazing author and my dear friend Karen Kendall. A special thanks for solving the mystery for me. You’re the greatest!
Running late.
Rylie Hunt knew it was her own danged fault she wouldn’t be on time for the presentation. She’d foolishly told her father she wasn’t coming at all and then stormed off in a huff. Oh, Lordy, how would she ever make it up to him?
Finally locating a remote spot to park, she shut down the engine of her snazzy red Corvette. The parking lot of her family’s newest oil-and-gas shipping facility was packed to overflowing due to the grand-opening celebration. The grand-opening celebration that her father, CEO of Hunt Drilling, had originally intended for her to officiate at as the vice president.
The mere idea of disappointing her dad gave her a sad twinge. Everyone had always said she was “Daddy’s little girl with an attitude.” But their last argument had been too bitter and had gone way too far. She and Marshall “Red” Hunt were too much alike—even down to their auburn hair. They butted heads on nearly every subject. Today she was making herself crazy wild, worrying over exactly how mad her dad would be this time.
If she hadn’t been late, Rylie would’ve stopped by the restaurant where she knew her mother was setting things up for the new board of directors’ luncheon. Her mother could give her a clue as to Daddy’s state of mind and to his reactions over the rather childish way she’d acted yesterday. With a wistful sigh, she prayed that her mom the peacemaker had already smoothed over this latest problem caused by Rylie’s big fat mouth.
But she was running late and she hadn’t taken the time to find out. She’d landed her little Diamond DA42 Twin Star at Executive Airport. Then she’d jumped into her car and raced toward the Houston Ship Channel, heading for the grand-opening celebration and her father. Eager to apologize, she couldn’t wait to get this test of their normally loving relationship behind them.
After locking her car, she planted her feet on the hot and sticky surface of the asphalt parking lot. She jammed the keys into her jeans pocket, refusing to pay any heed to the weird vibes she was suddenly getting. Okay, maybe deep in her subconscious she knew something—somewhere—wasn’t quite right.
The creepy sensation of being watched crawled down her arms, despite her attempts to shake it off. But Rylie was too late for the ceremony to pay attention. She made herself believe that the odd sensations were due only to guilt over the stupid argument with her father. Instead of looking for more trouble, she raced toward her family’s new shipping facility and the big celebration.
Daddy was bound to forgive her. She hoped.
The heat off the asphalt rose around her in waves as she weaved through the massive lot full of cars. It seemed as if she’d had to park a mile away today. Every news team in the state must’ve turned out for this shindig.
I’m sorry, Daddy. You were right.
Well, half-right, anyway. Despite her many misgivings about Hunt Drilling taking on new partners, partners by the name of Kadir who owned a huge international conglomerate that included the biggest shipping line in the world, her father had been positive that this move would assure continued success for their firm.
Rylie hadn’t given a rip about the Kadirs’ power or money. She was more worried about the public relations aspect of a Texas company going into business with a Middle Eastern-based concern. Ever since 9/11, Americans in general had been highly suspicious of even the merest hint that terrorist-influenced groups were taking over U.S. enterprises. Congress had already blocked several attempts by Middle Eastern businesses to buy American companies or real estate, and especially the port facilities.
Given enough time, Rylie was sure she could’ve found another company to come to Hunt’s aid, though she was well aware that few shipping firms flew an American flag these days.
Her dad remained firmly convinced