by Leslie North
“Why are you crying, Issy?” her mother said, the words a ragged whisper. “What’s wrong?”
Isabella shook her head and blinked away fresh tears. “Nothing, Mama. I’m fine.”
“I can see you’re not. I know better than to think all that crying’s about me.” She gave her daughter a dubious look. “Got no illusions about how I lived my life. I’m just sorry that you got caught up in my mess. Your sister was born to it, but you never were. Forgive me?”
“It’s fine, Mama. Really. You did the best you could.” Isabella’s heart squeezed. “Why didn’t you tell me your cancer was so advanced though? I never would have left if I’d known.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. Look, for your whole life I’ve been selfish where you were concerned. I didn’t do right by you, Issy. But in this last thing I wanted to. I want you to have your shot at happiness. With the man you love.” She tried to push herself up in the bed, wincing, then stilled. “Look in my drawer.”
Isabella opened the drawer in the nightstand her mother indicated and found a sealed white envelope. She pulled it out and handed it to her mother.
“I tried to remind you that day when you and Feraz came to see me before you left for Djave. Did you ever wonder why I gave you girls the same names, just reversed?” Her mother stared at the envelope in Isabella’s hands. “Why your sister was Roxanne Isabella and you were Isabella Roxanne?”
“I figured it was laziness or lack of imagination,” Isabella said, snorting. “Not really.”
“No. I’m never lazy and I’ve got more imagination than all of Disney put together.” Her mother raised her chin and met daughter’s gaze. “I’ve spent my whole life looking ahead, calculating the next risk, hedging the next bet. It was the same with you girls. I always knew you were my ace in the hole, Issy. I always knew one day you’d save us all. Now, it’s my turn to do the same for you.” She handed Isabella back the envelope. “Go ahead, open it.”
She did, then stared at the paperwork inside. It was a letter, written by Roxanne to Isabella two days before her death. In it, she spoke of knowing about Isabella’s crush on Feraz and how if anything happened to her, she wanted her sister to comfort him. How she’d decided to have Isabella undergo the IVF in her place because she knew that Isabella would make a wonderful mother and that her children would always have a loving home. She gave her blessing for Isabella to take over her life in Djeva, to take her place in Feraz’s family, to have the future she’d always dreamed of but never expected.
It still didn’t solve the problem of living a lie.
“Mama, I—”
“Stop.” Her mother gave her a look. “It was clear to anyone with eyes that you loved that Nazrani fellow from the first moment you laid eyes on him on the beach two years ago. Of course, back then your sister and I had other plans. We ruined what might have been for you two by pushing your sister at him and men are so easily fooled by a pretty face and flashy clothes.” Her mother broke off in a coughing fit and Isabella rose to rub her back for her to ease the pain.
When the awful hacking was over, she helped her mother to lean back against the pillows again, alarmed by her glassy stare and ragged breathing. A hospice nurse peeked her head in and gave Isabella a sad smile. Her instincts said it wouldn’t be long now and she didn’t want to waste a moment. She took her mother’s hand again and held tight.
“Mama, it wasn’t your fault. Feraz had a choice in the matter too and back then he didn’t even look twice at me. Things work out the way they’re supposed to.”
“Unless you give them a push,” her mother said, flashing a weak smile, her voice gruff and low. “I’m a pusher. Always have been. This time, though, I’m so glad for it. You love him, I can see it in your eyes, Issy. You deserve him. And now you can have him. You have your sister’s blessing, for what it’s worth. And you have mine too. I want you to have him and a family again after I’m gone.”
Isabella exhaled slow. “It’s not that easy, Mama. I have to tell him about what we did. I can’t live a lie. I won’t do that to him or his family. And once I tell them they’ll have to throw me out because you can’t fix something like this.”
“Ah, but you can, Issy.” Her mother wheezed, her pale skin going even grayer. “That’s where your names come in. Tell him. If he truly loves you, he’ll understand. Knowing him and how clever he is, he may have already figured it out. Tell him and then use the name I gave you to fix it. Use your names…”
Her mother tensed, and her eyes went wide, then nothing. The heart monitor flat-lined and the hospice nurses rushed in along with the doctor, but Isabella knew it was over. Her mother was gone.
In a daze, Isabella talked with the staff and confirmed her mother’s arrangements then signed the necessary paperwork. Gone. Her mother was gone. On one hand she was grateful she wasn’t in pain anymore. On the other she couldn’t shake the persistent ache in her heart. She’d lost so much already. and it wasn’t over yet. She still needed to talk to Feraz.
She walked out to the waiting limo and slid in the back seat, still reeling from the events of the past hour and still trying to figure out what her mother’s last words meant.
Use your names…
* * *
One week.
One week his wife had been gone and all Feraz had gotten were a few sporadic texts. To say he was worried and a tad upset would have been an understatement. Not because he didn’t understand her need to rush home to be by her dying mother’s side or the reason she’d gone alone. She still assumed he didn’t know her true identity or what she’d done. Or why.
He’d put his nervous energy to good use while she’d been gone. Isabella. He’d invested time and money into a thorough private investigation surrounding the events of Roxanne Germain’s death and also the weeks leading up to it. He’d also petitioned to have the New York clinic’s records opened regarding Roxanne’s IVF procedure and it hadn’t taken long to put the pieces together. Roxanne had manipulated her sister into having the twins. The only thing he didn’t fully know was what had been offered to make Isabella say yes.
He needed that answer to come directly from his wife.
And yes, he fully intended to stay married to her, if she accepted him. He’d already sat his family down and explained the situation. Funnily enough, after the momentary shock wore off, they’d been okay with it. There was no love lost between the deceased Roxanne and the Nazrani clan because of all the anguish she’d put Feraz through. Even his dear mother Zuhra was happy. She’d always loved Isabella and to know that she was still alive and well and would be the mother of Feraz’s children brought her infinite joy, she’d said.
Feraz shared the sentiment, in spades.
Now, if he could just see Isabella again and talk with her about these things he’d be all set. He didn’t have long to wait. His wife’s plane was due to land in twenty minutes at the Al-Qustra International Airport and he planned to be there when she arrived. Along with the rest of his family because they refused to stay behind.
They all piled into the two limos waiting in front of the palace and headed out through the open desert toward the airport on the outskirts of town. No one said much and Feraz was grateful for that. He had a lot on his mind. Mainly remembering the last time he’d visited the family’s private hangar. He and Isabella had just landed from New York. He’d kissed her, thinking she was Roxanne, but even then he’d had inklings that things were different. At first he’d put it down to her pregnancy, but his heart knew the truth.
Things were different because the woman in his arms was different.
Isabella was always meant to be his. He could see that clearly now. He only wished he hadn’t been so blind years ago on the beach and allowed himself to be swept away by Roxanne’s glitz and glamour. Isabella was more subdued, more refined, but every bit as beautiful.
He wasn’t yet sure how they would handle the press or all the questions about Isabella’s identity. Under normal circumstanc
es, he would have waited an appropriate time out of respect for Roxanne, then married Isabella quietly and got on with their lives, if that’s what she wanted. But with the twins on the way, time was of the essence. It was a quandary, one he was still pondering when they pulled up inside the hangar at the airport.
“Relax, my son,” Zuhra said, smoothing her hands over the shoulders of Feraz’s charcoal gray custom Italian suit. “She will want to be with you. She loves you. A mother knows these things.”
Ferax forced himself to exhale and gave a curt nod. “I hope you are right. Things are much more complicated than I like.”
“The best things always are, my son.”
“And I thought my love life was complicated, brother,” Raheem said, stepping up beside Feraz and nudging his shoulder. “I believe you get the prize on this one. Though I demand a rematch of our basketball game.”
“Any time.” Feraz grinned. “And you seem to have worked your way through your problems to a happily ever after.”
“What are you two discussing?” Rehaj said, moving to flank Feraz’s other side.
“Feraz’s horrible luck with women,” Raheem said.
Rehaj snorted. “The absolute worst.”
“Who’s the worst at what?” Jess asked, walking up to them, the rest of the sister’s in tow. “Don’t tell me you’re going to mess this up again, brother. Feraz, you love Isabella and I would bet a fortune she loves you too. I’ve talked with her, spent time with her since her return, and I’ve seen it in her eyes. Don’t mess this up again.”
The roar of approaching jet engines cut off Feraz’s reply.
Isabella was home.
My Isabella.
He swallowed hard around the lump of tension in his throat as the jet’s tires touched down on the runway in the distance, then watched as the small plane slowly taxied toward them. His pulse pounded, and his palms felt clammy. Allah help him, he’d not felt this nervous since he’d been a schoolboy asking a girl out on his first date.
The jet slowly pulled to a stop in the hangar and the fuselage door opened. Stairs descended from the cabin down to the tarmac with a hydraulic hiss. Then Isabella slowly moved into the doorway, her lovely green eyes wide and her pretty pink lips parted as she took in the crowd awaiting her.
Even from where he stood, he could feel the stress pulsing off her in waves, see the slight shadows beneath her eyes and the sharpness of her cheekbones. She’d lost weight since she’d been gone. She looked far more fragile now and he longed to rush to her side and pull her into his arms, vow his everlasting protection and love and never let her out of his sight again.
But first, they had things to discuss.
Isabella didn’t meet his gaze as she descended the stairs then walked over to stand in front of him. She glanced to either side of him, taking in his family lined up like soldiers to come to his defense. “I, uh…” she started, her voice thin. “I’m sorry about the way I left. My mother is gone.”
“I’m very sorry for your loss, rohi.”
“Thank you. And thank you for sending such a lovely arrangement to the funeral. It was much appreciated.” Isabella clasped her hands in front of her, so tightly he could see the skin turn white over her knuckles. Truthfully, he’d had a secretary make the arrangement for the floral delivery. Given all the lies and tricks Calista Germain had brought into his life over the past two years with her interference, he considered it an act of supreme generosity. But he’d owed the kindness for Isabella’s sake. Now, he considered that debt, and the debt to his deceased wife paid in full. He was ready to move on to his future with Isabella and prayed she was ready too.
“Listen, Feraz. Can we go somewhere private to talk. I—”
“Whatever you have to say can be said in front of my family.” He raised his chin, gathering all his inner strength not to reach out and pull her into his arms. She needed to get this out first and he needed to listen. “Go on.”
Isabella cringed, but did as he asked. “I’m not who you think I am. The truth is your wife, Roxanne Isabella Germain, died in that car accident in France. I’m actually her twin, Isabella Roxanne Germain. I underwent the IVF treatments in Roxanne’s place because I’d been desperate for the money to pay for my mother’s care. It was all supposed to be so simple. Everyone would get what they wanted out of it. No one was ever supposed to know…”
Her breath caught on a sob and Feraz’s chest squeezed with yearning to hold her and tell her it would be all right. He clenched his hands at his sides and stared down at the top of her lowered head. “And you, Isabella. What did you want out of all this?”
She gave a sad little shrug. “I guess I just wanted to do right by my mom. And to make you happy. To give you the children you wanted and deserved. I never ever meant to hurt you, Feraz.”
Unable to resist any longer, he reached out and slipped a finger under the chin, tilting her head up and forcing her to meet his gaze. “Just tell me one thing. Is what happened between us the other night part of your plan? Was it all a deception?”
“No.” The fierceness in her green eyes matched her solemn tone. “No. What I feel for you is real. I love you Feraz. I’ve always loved you, even though you never noticed me. I only want the best for you and for your children.”
Feraz leaned closer to her, his fingers tracing from her jaw to cup her cheek. “Our children, rohi. I love you too, Isabella. I should have picked you from the start. I know that now. I was foolish and stupid, and I should have never let you get away. Can you ever forgive me?”
Tears glimmered in her gorgeous green eyes and he held his breath, waiting for her answer. “It’s me who should beg your forgiveness. I should never have lied to you or your family. I should have been honest from the start. I should have told you from—”
He bent and kissed her, cutting off her response.
All around them were cheers and sighs of happiness from his family.
When they broke apart at last, Isabella buried her face in his chest, ever embarrassed by all the attention. He loved her even more for it. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Good. That’s settled. Now how will we deal with the rest of this mess, eh? I don’t want to cause you any more stress than necessary until you give birth, but the press will be relentless if they get wind of this story.”
“I have an idea…” she said quietly. “It was my mother’s, actually.”
Feraz rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I won’t like this.”
“No, I think you will.” Isabella smiled. “It took me a while to figure out what her last words to me meant, but I finally did on the long flight back. There was a reason she named my sister and I the same thing, just reversed. She said she was looking out for the future, and she was right. There’s no reason the press has to know at all. We can just tell them that I’ve decided to go by my middle name of Isabella because I want a clean break with my past and to show respect to my dearly departed sister.”
The idea was solid, and would most likely work in the long run, but Feraz didn’t want her to make such a sacrifice without considering it all. “But won’t that bother you? Having people still think you’re Roxanne?”
“But they won’t, not after a while anyway.” She slipped her arms around his waist and held him closer, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. He knew the feeling. Her rounded belly pressed against him and he felt the babies kick inside her. Happiness bubbled up inside Feraz and he couldn’t help smiling. “The public’s memories are short. I’ll live my life as me, Isabella, and soon that’s all people will remember. Will that work for you?”
He hugged her tighter, so thankful for all the joy she’d brought to his life in such a short time. She’d given him back his future and he loved her more each day for it. “That will more than work for me.” He kissed her again. “This means you will remain my wife and stay with me forever?”
“It does.” She grinned up at him. “I love you, Feraz Nazrani.”
“And I love you, Isabe
lla Germain.”
He kissed her, his wife, his soul, his future.
His forever.
End of The Sheikh’s Pregnant Fake Wife
Sheikh's Meddling Sisters: Book 3
The Sheikh’s Tempting Assistant, June 21, 2018
The Sheikh’s Island Fling, June 28, 2018
The Sheikh’s Pregnant Fake Wife, July 5, 2018
PS: Do you love handsome Sheikhs? Then keep reading for exclusive extract from The Sheikh’s Accidental Pregnancy.
Thank You
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About Leslie
Leslie North is the USA Today Bestselling pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women's contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres.
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BLURB
Sara hates her new boss, Sheik Tariq. He is rude, arrogant, headstrong and argumentative. So, why can't she stop thinking about him? When she started work in the Middle East for The Botros Oil Company, Sara expected her boss to be an elderly Arab. But instead her boss is tall, handsome, gloriously masculine with stunning eyes and a muscular physique. Tariq has never met anyone like her. She has no respect for tradition, she's clumsy, stubborn, unladylike and talks far too much. And she isn't scared of him, in fact she openly challenges him. He finds himself getting frustrated just talking to her. So, why does he feel so attracted to her? One night they're both working late and inevitably get into another heated argument. Before Sara knows what is happening, she is kissing Tariq, and he is lifting her onto the conference room table. After an unforgettable night of passion they both agree to never let it happen again. But when they discover the result of their unprotected encounter, they must both come to terms with their feelings. Can this explosive couple finally reveal their more caring sides? Or will it all end in disaster..?