by Holly Rayner
The Sheikh’s Surrogate Bride
Holly Rayner
Ana Sparks
Contents
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1. Yasin
2. Olivia
3. Olivia
4. Olivia
5. Yasin
6. Yasin
7. Olivia
8. Yasin
9. Yasin
10. Olivia
11. Olivia
12. Olivia
13. Yasin
14. Olivia
15. Yasin
16. Olivia
17. Olivia
18. Yasin
19. Olivia
20. Yasin
21. Olivia
22. Yasin
23. Yasin
24. Olivia
25. Yasin
26. Yasin
27. Olivia
Epilogue
More Series by Holly Rayner
Copyright 2018 by Holly Rayner and Ana Sparks
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.
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Chapter 1
Yasin
“Yasin…”
Yasin gritted his teeth, tightening his square jaw. The five o’clock shadow on his face further accentuated his masculine features. He had the type of face that stopped women in their tracks. Perhaps it was that his big heart and kind personality shined through when he spoke, which was always with such eloquence. But on this particular night, Yasin was deep in contemplation and didn’t care to spend much time on conversation.
He stared at the glass of champagne across the table and watched the bubbles float to the top. Music blared from the speakers across the ballroom. The dance floor just beyond his table was filled to the brim with his loved ones; both friends and family alike were dancing together at the joyous event: his birthday. Unfortunately, they were much more joyous than he was.
“Yasin…”
Yasin wasn’t paying attention to any of it. He was officially 32 years old, meaning it was now time to begin the next phase of his life. At least, that was what his father would have him do. There were family traditions that Yasin would rather ignore, especially in this day and age, but…
“Yasin!”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see the smiling face of his younger brother, Rashad. The young man patted him on the shoulder and pulled up a seat next to him.
“Rashad,” Yasin said. “What’s up?”
“What’s up with you, more like. It’s your birthday. You could be a little more enthusiastic.” He took a sip of his drink. “Are you still worried about what Father was talking about?”
“You’re not worried because you don’t have to deal with this antiquated ultimatum like I have to.”
“So you have to get married and produce an heir.” Rashad shrugged. “What’s the big deal? You wanted to get married—eventually—anyway, right?”
“I don’t want to be forced to get married. No one wants that.”
“But the whole ‘finding your bride’ thing is the fun part, isn’t it?” Rashad said with a smile. He motioned to the dance floor. “Look at this, brother. There are beautiful women out there. So many beautiful women, and all of them would make beautiful wives and mothers. Stop being so cynical. This could be a great opportunity.”
“Great opportunity?” Yasin repeated. “You’re only saying that because it’s not you.”
Rashad shrugged and picked his glass up from the table. “Eh, maybe,” he said with a coy grin. “But you might as well make the best of it, right?”
“I don’t know. This isn’t how I pictured it. Don’t get me wrong; I’m really quite excited about having a child. Raising an heir is important to me. I want to be able to provide for my family and make my child feel loved. I just…”
Yasin’s voice trailed off as he looked into his brother’s eyes, trying to read the expression on his face.
“…I just want to do so without a wife. I don’t need or want a wife right now.” He looked around. “But if a woman is to have my child, I must marry her. It’s the law of the land after all,” he said with a scoff. A sigh escaped his lips. “I just wish it didn’t have to be that way.”
Rashad rolled his eyes.
“Good luck finding a woman who will let you take the baby she carried for nine months. No Rebayan woman will let you raise your—her—child alone.”
He shook his head, then set his glass down again and placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders.
“But that is enough with the sadness. Yasin, it’s your birthday! You should be celebrating. Come! Come!” He grabbed Yasin’s arm and pulled him up out of his seat. “Get out there, man. There’s so much potential out on the dance floor.”
Rashad dragged his older brother out into the crowd. “Dance with her,” he said, motioning to a woman standing in front of him.
She turned around and smiled sweetly at Yasin. “Happy birthday,” she said warmly.
“What?” Yasin leaned in toward her, bringing his ear so close to her lips that he could feel her breath against his skin.
“I said, happy birthday,” she repeated. Her voice was light and feminine, just like it had been when he’d known her in grade school.
“Thank you,” he replied, his smile genuine.
She had always been a fixture in his life, albeit not a prominent one. He enjoyed the company of women, but no one ever kept his attention for too long, and she was no different.
As he danced with his childhood friend, Yasin’s mind drifted to think about his father’s ultimatum and how he could concoct a scheme to get out of it.
Yasin was the CEO of his family’s multi-billion-dollar oil company. While he prided himself in his honesty and sincerity in business, he knew exactly when he needed to push the envelope. He knew that sometimes he needed to look at the big picture, and that the best decisions aren’t always the easiest ones.
As the song changed, a tap on his shoulder brought him back to reality. It came from Saira, a young secretary he recognized from his office. He nodded at his dance partner who smiled and motioned toward the other young woman. Yasin gave Saira his full attention.
“I know that we shouldn’t talk about work right now,” she began.
“Is it important?” he asked. “We can step out for a moment, if you need.” He reached for her hand so he could lead her off the dance floor, but she held steady.
“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. I just wanted to let you know that I got a message from Leela in human resources. She wanted to get your final approval before the two new job ads run in the paper tomorrow morning. Apparently, they’re going to print in the next couple of hours.”
Yasin nodded. “Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you for letting me know.” His nostrils flared slightly. “I’m not looking forward to the interviews, mind you. Applicants always turn away when they realize just how much of themselves they are expected to bring to the job. Especially the…international applicants.” He furrowed his brows as his mind
began to connect the dots. “Hmm…”
“Is there something else I can do for you?” Saira asked.
He smiled. “No, no. You’ve done so much for me already; you have no idea. Thank you. Enjoy the party,” he said with a grin.
“Thank you, sir.”
Rashad nudged Yasin’s side with his elbow, then.
“Hey,” he said. “I see your wheels turning. What are you thinking about?”
Yasin smirked. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “I need to make some phone calls.”
Arranging the flight was easy enough, as was placing the ad on a reputable job site. The most difficult part of his plan was lying to his family about why he suddenly needed to go to the States.
“I need to check up on the Dallas offices,” he said to his father, Maalik, as they wrapped up their Monday morning meeting.
He stacked his papers together and placed them in a folder for his briefcase. His gaze moved from the papers to the large glass walls of the meeting room. A woman walked by and glanced up at him. She was slim and had breathtakingly beautiful eyes which smiled at him as she passed.
“I was thinking about flying over for a surprise visit,” Yasin continued after she was out of his line of sight. “That way, I can see how things are really run without them anticipating a visit from the boss.”
His father, a portly man in his sixties, cocked an eyebrow at him. They were both dressed in suits—Yasin in a tailored black one with a slim maroon tie, Maalik in a gray suit, no tie.
“Is something wrong? Are they not making their quota?” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Do we need to do some restructuring?”
“Well, that’s what I’m going to go find out,” Yasin said. “Just leave it to me.”
Maalik nodded. “I know I can count on you, my son,” he said warmly. “You’re so much more responsible than your brother.” He picked up his notes from the table and tucked the pen behind his ear. “So, have you met a woman yet? I didn’t see you with a date at your birthday party.”
“I have a few prospects,” Yasin lied. He concentrated on his briefcase, closing the locks securely and dusting off the leather exterior. “I’m still trying to find the right woman. There are many suitable and beautiful women here, after all, and this marriage will be for the rest of my life. I don’t want to take the decision lightly.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father look up at him. He could feel his eyes burring holes into his head.
“Yes, of course,” Maalik said simply before he began walking toward the door. “I hope that your trip is productive and that we get Dallas under control.”
Maalik was a smart man, and Yasin wondered if he had caught on to what he had planned.
It doesn’t matter, he thought to himself. What does matter is that I get back from the U.S. before my father makes any hasty decisions in my absence.
The next day, Yasin was on his private jet, headed to Texas. His plan was in motion, and he was excited to land and meet with the applicants. He smiled to himself as he opened his laptop. His email inbox was already overflowing with messages in reply to the ad he had posted. He thought back to the wording of his offer as he read through the responses once more.
Seeking brave woman to be discreet about a business transaction. Good pay. See the world. Long-term opportunity.
He needed a woman to carry his child but give up all involvement in raising him or her. He would pay for her to get the best medical treatment throughout the pregnancy, and marriage would have to be part of the deal—in order to avoid scandal—but it would all be a cover. She was free to go about her life, independent of him. It was just for show.
What he was really looking for was a surrogate, and he knew that the independent American women that applied for his job would be strong and brave enough to handle a proposition like that.
Despite the long journey, as soon as he landed in Dallas, Yasin was invigorated. Now was the time to start searching for his wife.
Chapter 2
Olivia
Olivia’s eyes fluttered open. Lazily, she turned her head to look at the clock sitting on her nightstand. Her alarm was set to go off in an hour. One more hour of sleep.
She tossed and turned, trying desperately to get more shut-eye, but to no avail. Finally, she turned her alarm off and bounded out of bed. She was too anxious to sleep, and she still needed to run a few errands before she showed up to her interview at the Dallas offices of Jubilee Oil.
Her auburn hair was a mess, but a brush could fix that. After a quick shower, deliberating over an outfit for a solid half hour, and gathering a few things, she left the house just in time. As if she wasn’t nervous enough, her anxiety was made worse by the fact that her morning was taking longer than it should.
She hoped that splurging for a coffee at her favorite shop would help ease her mind and get her brain focused on that task at hand. Of course, she hadn’t considered the fact that she was already juggling two laundry bags.
Luckily for Olivia, the laundromat was only a couple of blocks away from the coffee shop. But the juggling act was only made worse when her phone rang and she had to fish it out of her slacks pocket.
Unknown? Oh, God, probably just another bill collector. I don’t want to have to deal with this right now, she thought, her brows furrowed in worry. But if I don’t answer now, they’ll probably call back during my interview…
Reluctantly, she tapped “Accept.”
“Hello?” she asked.
“Is this Miss Olivia Reed?” the man on the other end of the phone asked. “My name is William and I’m with the Burke Collection Company.”
“Yes, but I’m afraid that I’m a little tied up right now. I’ll have to call you back later today.”
She held the phone steady, pinching it between her shoulder and cheek. Large coffee in one hand and two bags of laundry in the other, she looked down the sidewalk. The laundromat was in view. Just a little bit longer.
“I just need a minute of your attention, please. This is a fairly pressing matter,” William went on.
“Well, you’re not going to have my full attention right now; I’m busy,” she said, her patience wearing thin. “Listen. I’m telling you that I’ll be available to talk this evening. Just give me your number and I’ll call you back.”
“But you see,” persisted the man “We need to discuss setting up a payment plan for your debt.”
“I know that you’re just doing your job,” Olivia sighed. “But I really can’t talk right now. What I need to do right now is get to a job interview. If I get that job, I’ll have the money to pay you. Now, if you don’t mind—”
“Miss, it’ll just take a moment; I need a commitment from you now.”
“I don’t have a moment,” she argued. “I need, like, eight hours to myself. After which I can call you. Or you can call me. I don’t really care.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Miss Reed. We’ve been trying to get hold of you for the past four weeks. We need to make this payment plan now, or we will be forced to begin garnishing your wages.”
“I don’t have any wages,” she hissed, a little louder than intended. Her cheeks flushed as strangers turned toward her. She lowered her voice. “That’s the point. I need to go to this job interview so that I can have wages for you to garnish in the first place.”
The more the man pushed her, the more frustrated she got, until a man in a dark suit, who was also talking on his cellphone, bumped into her shoulder. Her phone flew into the air, as did her cup of coffee. She reached for her phone, dropping a bag of clothes, which landed onto the sidewalk and burst open with an explosion of rumpled fabric.
With her phone in hand—and her coffee sacrificed to the ground—Olivia turned to face the businessman who stared at her, browed furrowed.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Yes, excuse you!” she sputtered.
From her hand, she could hear the bill collector talking to her as well.
But Olivia wasn’t paying attention to him any longer.
On the other end of the phone, the collector continued to pester her.
“…stress how vital it is that you get this taken care of, ma’am. We have been very patient with you, and a legal process will be triggered if you don’t set up a payment plan. If you don’t get this taken care of today, we will be forced to—”
Olivia gritted her teeth as she tried to listen to the both of them, but all she could make out were a barrage of voices.
“Stop it. Just stop! I can’t take it anymore!” she yelled.
She turned to the man in the business suit. “You have all that sidewalk over there, mister, but you had to take your half down the middle. I was juggling all these things, and I dropped all of them because you weren’t paying attention.”
Without waiting for his response, she yelled into the phone next.
“And you. I already told you that I can’t talk because I’m going to a job interview. An interview, for a job. A job that will pay me money, which I will sign over to you. But I can’t concentrate on that if you won’t leave me alone for just a couple of hours.”
She hung up without waiting for his response, then gathered her clothes off the sidewalk and shoved them back into the laundry bag.
“I’m sorry. Please, at least allow me to…”
She could hear the businessman talking, but his voice faded into the background as she looked at her watch. She was already behind schedule, and she didn’t want to have to tell William at the Burke Collection Company that she’d missed out on a job all because of being late.
When she finally arrived at Jubilee Oil, Olivia didn’t look quite as put together as she had when she’d left her apartment. She was frazzled, actually, but another glance at her watch calmed her down. She’d made it on time. That was all that mattered.