Page 35 of The Geek and the Sheikh

“Nah, just some petty crooks, a few that should probably be still in jail, and normal folks going about their business,” she replied.

* * *

Jameel studied Junebug under his lashes. He was far more interested in her than in the faces flashing across the screen. He rubbed his palms along his thighs and cleared his throat, but before he could speak, a female voice asked, “Would you care for something to drink?”

He blinked and looked up at the dining car attendant. He cleared his throat again, looked at the trolley laden with food and drinks, and nodded.

“Coffee and biscuits, please,” he requested.

The woman complied and turned her attention to Junebug, her smile momentarily wavering before turning forced.

“Ma’am, would you care for something?” the attendant asked.

“Do you have hot chocolate? Do you have any sandwiches?”

The attendant rattled off a list of options. Jameel’s stomach growled and he realized he hadn’t eaten much before their unexpected visitors showed up earlier. Junebug’s snort of laughter and the attendant’s amused expression told him that they had heard his protesting stomach.

“I’ll take the cold option and some of the biscuits, please,” Junebug requested with an infectious grin.

“I’ll have the hot options… times two, please,” Jameel said.

He pulled out his wallet, withdrew several notes, and started to hand them to the attendant. The woman gave him an apologetic expression before she shook her head.

“I’m afraid we only accept credit cards,” she said.

“Oh," he mumbled. "I—”

“I have one,” Junebug said, holding out a card.

The attendant took the card she had extended, scanned it, and returned the card. Junebug slid the card back into her wallet and put it back into her bag. They didn’t speak again until the attendant moved down the aisle.

“Isn’t it risky using a credit card?” he murmured.

She nodded. “Normally it would be… if it were under my name. This one isn’t.”

He chuckled. “Let me guess… Bronislav?”

“Yeah. Well, one of my names appears on the card, but the computer doesn’t know that. That’s all that matters. It isn’t that hard to go in and tweak a few settings,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

He laughed loudly, causing several people to glance at him. He quickly stifled his amusement. They were quiet again when the attendant returned with their meals. He graciously thanked the woman and waited for her to leave again.

The delicious aroma teased his nose and he sniffed appreciatively at the entrée of fresh cod and chilled vegetables. He had heard that the meals in the Business Premium Class were created by a Michelin Star chef. He didn’t care if it had been a fast-food joint. He was suddenly starving.

“Tell me about yourself?"

Her head jerked up and she stared at him. He placed his fork down against his plate and cupped her hand. Her eyes followed his movement, biting her lip when her face heated.

“What do you want to know? There isn’t much to tell,” she finally replied.

He released her hand, sensing that his touch was affecting her as much as it was playing havoc inside him. He picked up his fork again and took a bite. She reached for her hot chocolate, added two marshmallows from her bag, and stirred them into the steaming liquid.

“I’ve known you for six years, but I don’t know your favorite color. Every time I asked, you’d change it,” he said.

“That’s because they are all beautiful,” she defended. “Why pick just one when you can have all of them?”

“Okay, what is your favorite number?” he asked.

She scowled at him. “That’s like asking my favorite color.”

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