The Sheikh's Triplet Baby Surprise (The Sheikh's Baby Surprise Book 3) by Holly Rayner
Authors: Holly Rayner
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shadow. Living day and night at the L.A. office. One night, I was working late when I got the call. She’d died in an auto accident.”
She paused. Why was she confiding so much in this man—why did she think she could trust him? She just felt so comfortable talking to him, and now she’d opened up, she didn’t want to stop.
“After that, it was like I was the only thing my parents had. They didn’t have each other, since they were divorced. They needed to feel pride in me. So that made me dive in all the more.”
“Wow,” Aziz breathed. He placed his pita bread on his plate and stretched his fingers over the wood. “I’m so sorry, Amity.”
Amity bowed her head, hating this feeling of being exposed, of revealing too much. But at the same time, she felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted. She reached into the bread basket and began to eat, feeling herself coming back to life with each morsel. The garlic in the hummus made her tongue tingle.
“What was it like when your father died?” she said after a while.
“Well,” Aziz began, clearing his throat. “Of course, it was rough. I was his only child, and I felt incredibly close to him. I went off the deep end pretty quickly.” He shook his head, giving her a mischievous glance. “As your research will no doubt reveal.”
“Do you know what I think?” Amity murmured. As she spoke, two more plates were placed before them, both piled high with steaming vegetables. “I think I’m here to help you for a reason. For so long, I thought my work was all there was in the world. And for so long, you thought your party lifestyle could save you. Maybe we’re here together to save each other.”
Aziz laughed, lifting his filled wine glass toward her. “Cheers to saving each other from ourselves.”
“Cheers to that indeed,” she said, clinking it.
Their conversation swept on to lighter topics, to easier things to say. They ate slowly, sipping their wine, and Amity found herself feeling more comfortable with Aziz than she’d felt with anyone in years—even friends she’d known all her life. Somehow, he approached her without judgment; somehow, she had lost the feeling that he was just a rich billionaire, in between wild nights. Somehow, she felt sure that she’d enjoy her time in Al-Mabbar—it was already far different than she’d initially imagined.
SEVEN
Amity excused herself to her extravagant rooms after lunch, taking pause at her desk to use the phone to dial Flora’s room across the street. Flora’s bright voice met her on the other line.
“Amity! This place is amazing!” she exclaimed. “I just went shopping downtown. Three people stopped me to look at my hair. They say they hardly see anything like it around here. I’m basically a goddess.”
Amity bowed her head, wanting to laugh but feeling far too fatigued to do so. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “Perhaps we can get together later to talk about how I want to proceed with Aziz? He’s quite a character, that’s for sure.”
“From what I gathered from the limo, he’s quite a looker, as well,” Flora teased. “Even you have to admit it, Amity. He’s hot.”
Amity didn’t say anything. She looked toward the bed, suddenly yearning for a nap. She didn’t give Flora a proper answer, only excused herself, saying she’d call her again in a few hours. She collapsed on top of the comforter, her eyes closing in an instant. She was miles away from home, and her body just couldn’t take it anymore.
She awoke an hour or so before sunset, to the delicious late-afternoon air of a desert city. She stretched, allowing her back to click, and rifled through her wardrobe, looking for a change of clothes. She wondered what the night would hold. Surely, since Aziz was trying to change his ways, he’d want to stay out of the public eye; he’d want to have a quiet dinner and perhaps some more conversation. Her
She paused. Why was she confiding so much in this man—why did she think she could trust him? She just felt so comfortable talking to him, and now she’d opened up, she didn’t want to stop.
“After that, it was like I was the only thing my parents had. They didn’t have each other, since they were divorced. They needed to feel pride in me. So that made me dive in all the more.”
“Wow,” Aziz breathed. He placed his pita bread on his plate and stretched his fingers over the wood. “I’m so sorry, Amity.”
Amity bowed her head, hating this feeling of being exposed, of revealing too much. But at the same time, she felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted. She reached into the bread basket and began to eat, feeling herself coming back to life with each morsel. The garlic in the hummus made her tongue tingle.
“What was it like when your father died?” she said after a while.
“Well,” Aziz began, clearing his throat. “Of course, it was rough. I was his only child, and I felt incredibly close to him. I went off the deep end pretty quickly.” He shook his head, giving her a mischievous glance. “As your research will no doubt reveal.”
“Do you know what I think?” Amity murmured. As she spoke, two more plates were placed before them, both piled high with steaming vegetables. “I think I’m here to help you for a reason. For so long, I thought my work was all there was in the world. And for so long, you thought your party lifestyle could save you. Maybe we’re here together to save each other.”
Aziz laughed, lifting his filled wine glass toward her. “Cheers to saving each other from ourselves.”
“Cheers to that indeed,” she said, clinking it.
Their conversation swept on to lighter topics, to easier things to say. They ate slowly, sipping their wine, and Amity found herself feeling more comfortable with Aziz than she’d felt with anyone in years—even friends she’d known all her life. Somehow, he approached her without judgment; somehow, she had lost the feeling that he was just a rich billionaire, in between wild nights. Somehow, she felt sure that she’d enjoy her time in Al-Mabbar—it was already far different than she’d initially imagined.
SEVEN
Amity excused herself to her extravagant rooms after lunch, taking pause at her desk to use the phone to dial Flora’s room across the street. Flora’s bright voice met her on the other line.
“Amity! This place is amazing!” she exclaimed. “I just went shopping downtown. Three people stopped me to look at my hair. They say they hardly see anything like it around here. I’m basically a goddess.”
Amity bowed her head, wanting to laugh but feeling far too fatigued to do so. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “Perhaps we can get together later to talk about how I want to proceed with Aziz? He’s quite a character, that’s for sure.”
“From what I gathered from the limo, he’s quite a looker, as well,” Flora teased. “Even you have to admit it, Amity. He’s hot.”
Amity didn’t say anything. She looked toward the bed, suddenly yearning for a nap. She didn’t give Flora a proper answer, only excused herself, saying she’d call her again in a few hours. She collapsed on top of the comforter, her eyes closing in an instant. She was miles away from home, and her body just couldn’t take it anymore.
She awoke an hour or so before sunset, to the delicious late-afternoon air of a desert city. She stretched, allowing her back to click, and rifled through her wardrobe, looking for a change of clothes. She wondered what the night would hold. Surely, since Aziz was trying to change his ways, he’d want to stay out of the public eye; he’d want to have a quiet dinner and perhaps some more conversation. Her
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