Single Mom and the Sheikh

by Rayner, Holly

  Single Mom and the Sheikh

  Holly Rayner

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Holly’s Subscriber Club

  More Series by Holly Rayner

  Copyright 2017, 2018, 2019 by Holly Rayner

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

  All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  This is an extended re-issue of a book first released in 2017. It features an extended epilogue, previously exclusive to subscribers to my newsletter.

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  Sam was already half asleep by the time I asked which bedtime story he wanted me to read. He didn’t want to fall asleep. I could tell because his little eyelids drooped, their long lashes brushing against his cheeks, but he steadfastly refused to acknowledge the fact that he wouldn’t be able to stay awake for the whole story.

  “Tell me about the adventure you’re going on, Mommy.” His delicate hand clasped mine. “Are there going to be dragons?”

  I chuckled. “No, Sammy. No dragons.”

  “What about wild animals?” He blinked wearily. “Like lions, or bears?”

  The thought of leaving him tugged at my heart. I didn’t want to go. He thought I was going on some sort of crazy adventure, but really I would just be drinking out of an inappropriate straw with a few girls from college—all the while wishing I was at home with this little guy.

  “I don’t think I’ll see any lions or bears,” I said, “but who knows? It’s a pretty crazy place. It’s out in the middle of the desert, where almost nothing can grow.”

  “Why does Auntie Sarah want to go there?” Sam asked. “It doesn’t sound very fun.”

  I reached forward and brushed a stray blond curl off his forehead. I hoped his hair would darken as he got older; the contrast of my raven hair to Sam’s golden locks always reminded me of his absent father.

  I smiled down at my son and pushed those thoughts to the back of my head. There were always going to be things that reminded me of Sam’s father. It was no use getting upset over them.

  “Many years ago, a bunch of people looked at the desert and decided they wanted to build something fun,” I explained. “So they built a huge playground, for grown-ups. Each year, it gets bigger and bigger, and now it takes up so much space that I probably won’t even see any sand.”

  Sam’s eyes widened. “A playground?”

  “A playground for grown-ups,” I reminded him. “There isn’t much there for little boys to do. You’d get bored.”

  I could tell he wanted to ask more, but his eyelids were drooping heavily now. I took him in: his small button nose, those pink cheeks, his delicate, curving lips. God, I was going to miss him so much.

  “Mommy,” he breathed, “do you really have to go?”

  Pinpricks of tears stung my eyes. I didn’t want to go. What was there for me in Las Vegas?

  “I do, honey. But I’ll bring you back something, okay? Would you like that?”

  “I’d like it more if you stayed here,” he replied, his voice muddled by sleep.

  Of all the things Sam could have inherited from his father, the ability to inspire guilt like a pro was probably one of the better things.

  “I’d like that too, pumpkin, but sometimes Mummy has to do things even when she doesn’t want to.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You sleep tight, Sammy. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” he murmured. “Don’t forget to come home.”

  My heart clenched. It was going to be my first time away from the little guy. Sure, I wouldn’t be forgetting to come home, but the sentiment still tugged at my heartstrings.

  “I won’t forget,” I murmured, pushing myself to my feet. “I’ll be wishing I was home the whole time.”

  I padded quietly out of his room, flicking off the light on my way out. The nightlight sent an effusive glow over Sam’s face. He looked like an angel. My little angel.

  I had another hour before I had to leave for work, and I figured I’d grab a quick dinner and finish packing. I had no idea what I’d need for a weekend in Las Vegas. My friend Sarah, whose bachelorette party it was, had said to wear something sparkly, but I hadn’t owned anything sparkly since before Sam was born.

  My father, Bill, was out in the kitchen, which surprised me. He’d been fast asleep in front of the TV when I’d gone to put Sam to bed.

  “You’re alive,” I commented.

  He made an amused snort. “So my doctor keeps assuring me. Where do you keep the snacks around here, kid?”

  I raised my eyebrow at him, but he continued rooting through the cupboard.

  “Are you asking me where Sam’s snacks are?” I inquired.

  Dad nodded, peering at the contents of the cupboard from beneath his wispy, graying eyebrows. “Sam told me you’ve been giving him applesauce, and now I’ve got a mighty hankerin’ for it.”

  I laughed and swung open the cabinet next to the one he was looking in. With a flourish, I pointed to the modest bounty of snacks inside. “Don’t eat all of them. Sam will want some snacks for the road.”

  “So will I,” Dad commented. “He takes after me more and more each day.”

  I patted my dad on the back and started fixing myself some dinner. I would have just made a couple slices of toast, but Dad always paid special attention to what I ate when he was around. He would leap at any sign of trouble, and he considered toast for dinner to be especially troubling. I put on a pot of water to boil some pasta instead. I would need the carbs.

  “I don’t want to go on this stupid trip,” I said.

  My dad, now leaning against the counter, eating a little cup of applesauce, grunted. “I won’t have this fight with you again, Skyler. You’ve got to go.”

  I frowned. “I wasn’t going to fight. I’m just venting a little. That’s normal isn’t it?”

  “What would be normal would be you actually being excited to go on a trip with your girls,” Dad reminded me. “When was the last time you went out and had some fun, honey?”

  “Sam and I went to the movies last week,” I said. “We had a blast.”

  “And when was the last time you went out without your kid and had some fun?” he asked, pointing his spoon at me. “I shouldn’t have to specify the fun without your kid part.”

  “What? We have fun together,” I said, defending myself. I placed the pot on the stove and turned on the heat. “Sam’s a cool kid.”

  “And so were you,” my dad said. “But I still went out and did stuff without you. Your mother and I used to leave you and your sister with a sitter while we got drunk and went salsa dancing.”

  I glowered at him. “You know I’m not going to go do that. Not least because I don’t have anybody to get drunk and go salsa dancing with.”
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br />   “You will,” he said. “Or you would, if you started putting yourself out there again.”

  I let out a frustrated sigh and grabbed a tin of pasta sauce out of the cabinet, busying myself with opening it so I didn’t have to look at him.

  After a couple moments, I heard him put down his applesauce container and walk over to me. He placed a gentle hand on my back.

  “You don’t have anything to prove to anyone, sweetheart.”

  I glanced up at him. “What does that mean?”

  My dad’s gentle blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he gave a slight smile. “All I mean is that it’s okay to not want to do this on your own,” he said. “You don’t have to stick it out like this just to prove you can.”

  I was already too emotional from having to leave Sam. I didn’t want to add to that stress by talking to my dad about how freaking lonely I got sometimes.

  “What do you guys have planned with Dawn for the week?” I asked, changing the subject.

  The concern on my dad’s face didn’t ease, but he took a few steps back to give me some space. I watched him rinse out the empty applesauce container and toss it in the recycling bin.

  “Sam wants to go to the Golden Gate Bridge, of course,” Dad said. “Other than that, Dawn said she’d have a full roster of activities planned for us.”

  I chuckled. “I suppose it would have been worrying if Dawn had nothing planned,” I said. “But please try and get a little rest while you’re there. It seems unfair that you’re going on vacation but you’ll basically have to be working the whole time.”

  He shot me a cheeky grin. “Maybe you’re not the only one who likes hanging out with Sam. Ever think about that?”

  “Touché.”

  The pot on the stove began to boil, so I poured in some rotini and grabbed another pot to heat up the sauce.

  “Listen, kid.” My dad came over and draped his arm over my shoulders. He was a slight man, but still much bigger than me. His arm was heavy. “I want you to have fun on this trip. Do something crazy. Don’t let being a mom mean you can’t enjoy being Skyler.”

  I snorted. “I just don’t think I enjoy the same kinds of things I used to, Dad. What if I end up being a big wet towel on the festivities?”

  “You won’t,” he assured me, kissing the top of my head. “You’re a good kid. You’re raising a good kid. You deserve a break.”

  With a sigh, I untangled myself from him and stepped over to the sink to pour myself a glass of water. After taking a couple gulps, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and smiled.

  “He is a good kid, isn’t he?” I said. “I think that’s what makes leaving harder.”

  “But he’ll still be a good kid when you get back,” Dad said. “And you’ve got years and years of time ahead of you to spend together. You’ve only got this weekend in Vegas. Besides, it might be good for you two to get some time away from each other.”

  I narrowed my eyes slightly. “I know you’re probably right, but I still don’t like the thought of him needing time away from me at five years old.”

  “You overthink everything.” Dad plucked a wooden spoon out of the jar on the counter and started to stir the bubbling pasta sauce. “It makes you miss the important things.”

  “No,” I countered. “It makes me extra conscious of the important things. Like how I should be spending the money I’m spending on this trip on my son.”

  Dad rolled his eyes. Nonetheless, his lips spread into a wistful smile. “You remind me of your mother,” he said. “She used to worry about your sister and you twenty-four seven. It was even worse before you were born—the first child is always the scariest. She would go and check to make sure Dawn hadn’t stopped breathing in her sleep until she was three years old.”

  It hurt to see how much my dad still missed my mom. She’d died ten years before of breast cancer, and he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since. Not that I knew of, at least. Granted, for the past five years he’d been a little preoccupied helping me raise my son.

  Ah, another stab of guilt. How refreshing.

  “Okay, okay.” I wrapped my arms around Dad, inhaling his peppery smell. “I’ll go have an amazing time, and I’ll try not to call more than twice a day.”

  “Once.”

  “Huh?”

  My dad pulled back, a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t call us more than once.”

  “You’re killin’ me here, Dad.”

  His deep laugh filled the kitchen. “Sure, kid. Sure.” He patted me on the back. “Now get some dinner in you or you’ll be too hungry to save lives tonight.”

  Chapter 2

  My eyes drooped heavily, making me stand out in the group of otherwise fresh and bright faces.

  “Jeez, Skyler,” Sarah said, patting me on the back. “Are you going to make it today?”

  I nodded and forced a smile. “I just need to get my second wind. I’ll be fine.”

  I was no stranger to working long shifts without sleep. Now standing at the airport with a giggling gang of bachelorettes, I tried to think of this as just another shift at the hospital. In many ways, it wasn’t so different from what I’d been up doing the night before: making sure people were happy, keeping an eye on numbers flashing across the screens, and making sure nobody died. Except in this case, the numbers on the screens were our flight details and the one who was at risk of dying was me.

  Who needed a hangover when there was utter exhaustion?

  “I think I know what you need…” Heather, Sarah’s maid of honor, donned a mischievous expression. “We’ve got another hour until boarding. Let’s hit the bar!”

  I withheld a groan. “Shouldn’t we wait until we’re actually on vacation?” I asked. “This still feels a little too close to home.”

  Ariana, another bridesmaid, snorted disapprovingly. “Being on vacation is a state of mind, my dear,” she said. “And if you’re not there already, a fruity cocktail will help you on your way.”

  I didn’t want to become known as the serial complainer, so I followed the girls to the little bar near our gate. Did they really have to drink at the airport? It was already an expensive weekend as it was. I would be out of cash by the time we got to our hotel at this rate.

  That being said, the vodka and cranberry juice did help cheer me up a little. The bill, when it arrived, knocked me back down a couple pegs, but that was another matter. By the time we got on the plane, I was feeling more or less human again. And by the time I first glimpsed the long strip of casinos and hotels through the plane window, I was starting to feel a little excited.

  I’d never been to Vegas before. I hadn’t been many places in general. I had always wanted to travel, but I had reasoned, in my youth, that I could do all the traveling I wanted after college. Then I’d met Sam’s father and, well, the rest was history.

  But here I was, flying high above America’s den of pleasure and entertainment. Light flashed as the sun reflected off the windows of various buildings. I recognized a few from movies I’d seen, only adding to my excitement.

  We got off the plane and found a cab to take us to our hotel. Sarah had insisted on staying at Caesar’s Palace, even though my budget was more three-star friendly.

  I watched in awe as buildings flashed by the cab window. The day was hot, especially considering it was October, but tons of people meandered down the sidewalks and over the pedestrian bridges on the main strip. Flashing signs and billboards advertised shows I’d always wanted to see, as well as many I’d never heard of.

  “It’s totally overwhelming,” Elyse commented.

  Elyse was the only other person on the trip who hadn’t been to Vegas before. I was glad she was feeling a bit overwhelmed, too.

  “You’ll get the hang of it,” Heather assured her. “You just have to remember that there’s no way you could possibly do everything in one weekend, which is why we’re not going to even try.”

  “Then what are we going to do?” I asked, and Heather grinned.


  Sarah turned around from the front seat of the van, her expression mirroring her maid of honor’s. “What do you think we’re going to do?” she giggled. “Get crazy and make bad decisions.”

  “And eat everything,” Ariana chimed in.

  “I like Ariana’s plan better,” I joked. “I haven’t eaten at a restaurant in months.”

  Ariana gasped. She was the youngest of the group at only twenty-four and was fully ensconced in the glamorous, early-twenties life I had always wanted. Eating out almost every night, going on a ton of dates, and always having fun. I would have been jealous, except I didn’t feel like I’d missed out on all that much. I’d had Sam at twenty-three, and we’d had a different kind of crazy time, but one I wouldn’t trade for the world.

  “You’re going to love the buffets here,” Heather said. “They’ve got more food than you’ve ever seen in your life.”

  It all sounded a bit excessive, but hey—that was what vacations were for, right?

  The cab pulled up to the doors of Caesar’s Palace and my jaw dropped. I’d seen the building in movies, but the real-life experience was grander than I could have imagined.

  “This is crazy!” I said.

  “This is Vegas!” Sarah cheered.

  We grabbed our bags and checked in at the front desk. I couldn’t stop staring at our surroundings. I’d taken some Classics in college, and the statues and columns that populated the expansive space were fascinating to me.

  The receptionist gave us each a map of the hotel, and my jaw dropped again.

  “I could spend the whole weekend just inside Caesar’s Palace,” I commented.