Bought And Paid For: The Sheikh's Kidnapped Lover Read online

  Bought and Paid For: The Sheikh’s Kidnapped Lover

  Holly Rayner

  Contents

  Bought and Paid For: The Sheikh’s Kidnapped Lover

  Want More?

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  The Prince’s ASAP Baby

  Want More?

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Also by Holly Rayner

  Bought and Paid For: The Sheikh’s Kidnapped Lover

  Copyright 2017 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.

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  Chapter One

  “Sweetheart, your taxi is here!”

  Jenna felt her heart leap up into her throat.

  “I'll be right there!”

  This is it, she thought. Now or never.

  She made eye contact with herself in the mirror. Hazel eyes stared back, bloodshot. She hadn't slept well the night before, excitement and anxiety preventing her from getting the rest she needed. She’d spent less time than usual on her usual morning routine, but hey, she was going to be on a plane all day; who would care what she looked like?

  Her cheeks were flushed—the foundation hadn't done its job like she’d hoped. Because she was anxious, perhaps? Or maybe because it was below freezing that morning?

  Jenna didn't have time to think about it. She slung her bag over her shoulder and ran down the stairs, nearly tripping on one of her mother’s cats on the way down.

  Her parents were at the bottom of the stairs, in the foyer. Her father's hands were resting on the handle of her hard-shell suitcase. It was blue, of course—her favorite color—like the water in the Gulf of Mexico. Both her mother, Lori, and father, Brent, had dark hair, though Brent’s was thinning on top of his head. He smiled at her tenderly, his dark eyes full of sadness at her leaving. Her mother's hair, always flawless, brushed across her shoulders as she shook her head. Her blue eyes were brimming with tears.

  “Oh, do be careful, my dear,” Lori blubbered, pulling Jenna into a tight hug.

  As Jenna smelled her mother's perfume—vanilla and lilac—she felt her heart constrict again. The pain of her guilt was almost overwhelming.

  When her mother released her, Jenna looked down at her feet. She knew that if she looked her mom in the eye, she would see the lie as plain as day on her face.

  “Now, you'll make sure to email us as soon as you touch down in Paris, right?” Brent asked, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

  Another twinge of guilt. “Of course,” she replied, smiling wide.

  She had to get out of the house before they found her out.

  “And Alanna will be meeting you there?” her mother added.

  She almost laughed. Her best friend Alanna was going away, all right, but she was going to Germany for three weeks with her boyfriend, and would be road tripping to her friend's wedding in Arizona when they got back. She was the perfect person to use for Jenna’s cover-up, and she had totally agreed to back her up if it came down to it.

  Jenna had never worked this hard to lie to anyone. Ever.

  She accidentally allowed some of the anxiety to show, but quickly covered it up with a shrug.

  “Mom, it's no big deal. We’re traveling halfway around the world. There are bound to be some delays somewhere.”

  Jenna saw her mother's eyes widen with fear at her comment, and tried to quickly calm her down.

  “Seriously, don't worry about it. I’ll let you know if anything major changes, okay?”

  Lori nodded glumly, and Brent put his hand on her shoulder.

  “All right.” He paused and glanced at the door. They could hear the thrumming of the taxi's engine on the street. “We shouldn’t keep you any longer. You have a plane to catch.”

  “Send us pictures!” Lori exclaimed as Jenna took her suitcase from her father and stepped toward the door.

  “I’ll make sure to show you all of my pictures when I get back, okay?” Jenna said over her shoulder. “I don't know how good the internet will be over there. It might be hard to send anything more than an email.”

  Lori frowned. “Well, then make sure to tell me every detail when you write!”

  How was she going to show pictures of a place, and of people, who she would never see on this trip? She supposed that her parents would eventually find out that she was not going where she said she was, but hey, once it was over and done with, there wouldn't be much they could do, right?

  I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

  “Three months…” her mother murmured, and Jenna saw the pain on her face.

  Maybe that was a long time to be gone, but this was the only chance that she would have before she started her master's degree in the spring. Taking this autumn off was all she felt she could afford.

  “All right, then. Bye, Mom and Dad,” Jenna said, kissing them both on the cheek. She felt her eyes sting with tears that she did not want to come, and she offered them the biggest smile she could manage.

  “We love you,” Brent said. Lori gave her a weak thumbs-up, her tears falling freely.

  Jenna felt her lip tremble. “I love you too,” she replied. Then, she walked determinedly out of the door.

  She stepped out into the cold Maine morning to snow falling gently down from the sky. The frigid air washed some of her sadness away and cleared her mind. She set her shoulders and walked toward the car.

  “Jenna Jackson?” the taxi driver asked over his shoulder as she hopped into the backseat, sliding her rucksack in ahead of her. Jenna made eye contact with him in the rearview mirror. He had gentle gray eyes, and she found herself more at ease than she had been all morning.

  “That's me,” she said, and leaned back against the seat. She closed the door, and the driver pulled away from the curb.

  Jenna gazed out of the window at her parents’ townhouse, slowly disappearing behind her. The snow was falling harder, and soon obscured the house from her sight. She wondered if she would ever be able to forgive herself for what she was doing.

  “Airport, right?” the man asked, his voice gruff, but kind.

  “That’s right,” she replied absently, pulling out her passport and boarding pass from her carry-on. She had checked and double checked everything that morning to ensure that she had everything she needed, but it couldn’t hurt to check once more.

  They drove in silence for a while, and Jenna allowed herself some time to wallow. It was bothering her that she had lied to her parents a
bout something so huge. She wasn’t looking forward to the truth inevitably coming out when she got home, but there was just no way they would have allowed her to take a trip like this.

  And especially not alone.

  “So, where you flying to?” he asked as they stopped at stop light.

  Jenna pulled her jacket more tightly around her shoulders. She wasn’t upset to be leaving this cold weather, she realized.

  “Al Mezinda. Do you know it?”

  “Ah, the Middle East?”

  “That’s right,” she affirmed, both surprised and on edge. She prepared to defend herself from the onslaught of questions that were sure to come, just as they always did.

  Yes, she was aware of the dangers of traveling alone. Yes, she knew that, as a woman, she was more likely to be in danger. But for as long as she could remember, the Middle East—Al Mezinda in particular—had fascinated her. She’d ended up making Middle Eastern history her major at college, and now, having graduated, she wanted nothing more than to experience the place for herself.

  She knew she would be safe—she had organized a place to stay, booked a few tours, and made connections with some English-speaking locals preemptively via email. Not that her parents would have trusted her planning or believed she would be okay. Not in the least.

  The small nation of Al Mezinda was vibrant, alive, and so incredibly different from everything she knew. Her home in Maine and the city she was traveling to were like night and day.

  She was ready to be challenged.

  “That's where the Djourani family rules, right?” the driver asked.

  Jenna blinked in surprise.

  “It is! How come you know so much?”

  The man smiled at her in the rearview mirror.

  “My son served in the military; did a few tours in the Middle East. He told me Al Mezinda is one of the safest places for travelers these days. For the most part, at least.”

  Jenna leaned forward excitedly. Finally, someone who understood!

  “That’s one of the reasons I decided to start my trip there!” she said. “I'm not looking for trouble, by any means, but I want to be able experience a new culture and way of life. It’s ridiculous, really; I’ve been studying Middle Eastern history for the last three years, but I’ve never even been!” She sat back against the seat and glanced out of the window. “It can't all be bad,” she said, more quietly.

  “My son told me some stories,” the driver said quietly. He glanced at her again, his gray eyes serious. “You take care of yourself. Al Mezinda may be safe for travelers, but it’s always wise to exercise caution.”

  Jenna swallowed hard, and wondered for a brief second if she should ask him to turn around and take her home.

  But she gained control of herself, and simply nodded.

  “I will.”

  Jenna gave the driver a hearty tip when she arrived at the airport, thanking him for being so understanding. She waved at him as he drove off, and then turned to face the airport.

  Here we go, she told herself. There's no turning back now.

  Aside from her internal flight arriving a half hour late to JFK, Jenna ran into no issues in the first leg of her journey. She was so excited when she landed in New York that she purchased a huge lunch, more snacks than she could ever eat for the flight to Beirut, and even a T-shirt to commemorate the beginning of her travels. She took pictures of everything, uploading nearly all of them to her social media account.

  There, that’ll make Mom relax a little, she thought. She’s definitely already snooping, looking for evidence of me still being alive.

  Thinking of her parents, Jenna tapped out a quick email to let them know she had landed in New York. It felt good to be entirely honest, knowing that all of the messages to come after it were going to be half-truths at best. She hit send with a heavy heart.

  But the anxiety was soon gone as she boarded the plane, her imagination already running wild with what she was about to see and experience.

  The twelve-hour flight was rather uneventful. Jenna watched a few B-rated movies before falling asleep somewhere over the Atlantic. When she woke again, they were somewhere over France. She pulled out a bar of candy and started to munch on it, wondering when she might have American food again, and already wishing she’d had one last cheeseburger before leaving the States.

  Chapter Two

  It was early afternoon when the plane landed in Beirut, and Jenna was so excited that she could barely stand it. She was blasted by a wave of heat as she left the colorful, bustling airport terminal, and grinned at the feeling of warmth and adventure.

  Lebanese people were incredibly welcoming, she soon discovered. Many people spoke English, and she was drawn in by their big smiles and courteous directions. One young woman helped her find a share-ride taxi that would take her the rest of the way to Al Mezinda, the capital city of which was only an hour’s drive away.

  Jenna was not the only one heading that way; a few other travelers were heading to Al Mezinda, and she spoke with them excitedly during the drive. By the time they reached the capital, Yordan, however, she became so fascinated by what was out the window that she lost track of the conversation altogether.

  Weathered stone buildings that must have been hundreds of years old stood right beside skyscrapers of steel and glass. There were people everywhere, and the noise and heat were intense.

  The hostel was even nicer than the pictures online. Jenna had had to pay a little extra for this particular place, but she realized very quickly how worth that extra money was. She had her own private room with a bed, a dresser, a lamp, and a tiny window that looked into a tight alleyway. There was a large, modern common room and kitchen area, and she found a wide range of people there, milling around and socializing. It almost felt like the first week at college.

  Jenna felt right at home, dumping her bag and spreading her things all over the room. She made sure to keep her passport and money on her, but knowing the place had a security system, she didn't think she had much to worry about.

  She asked the kind-faced woman at the front desk where she might go to get something to eat, and the receptionist immediately offered up several options that were just around the corner. Jenna was both excited and terrified to step out into the city alone, but she forced herself through the front doors and out into the twilight.

  She was not disappointed.

  The hostel was located in the city’s market district, and there were people of every age moseying through the streets. She could barely understand what they all were saying, having only taken two semesters of Arabic, but the snatches of conversation she did understand filled her with a sense of accomplishment.

  Young boys and girls played with a soccer ball, their cries filling the air. Mothers and fathers browsed the stalls for food and clothing items, everything in bright shades of reds and oranges and greens. The smells of the food were intoxicating, spices were fresh, colorful, and pungent. She saw jewelry, and pottery, and a stand that was selling goats.

  Buildings filled the space on either side of her, and Jenna had to stretch her neck far back in order to see the tops of some of them. There was music and laughter and the shouts of the shopkeepers peddling their wares. It was everything she could have ever hoped for.

  It was dark before Jenna returned to her room, travel weary and her head buzzing with excitement and exhaustion. The common area was still full of people, a few of whom were hard at work in the kitchen. Many of them said hello to her as she walked toward her room, and she realized that there was a good chance she would make some new friends this trip.

  But she was so exhausted she could barely stand up. She knew that she had to stay awake as long as possible to try to beat the jet lag as best as she could, but sleep was coming on fast.

  In the quiet of her room, after a cool shower and a fresh change of clothes, Jenna found her heart to be full of peace and contentment. She decided it was probably a good idea to try the free internet connection she had been prom
ised and let her parents know where she was and what was happening.

  After typing in the password on her laptop, she pulled up her email, and typed in her dad's email address. The connection was as slow as molasses, but at least it was working, and she started drafting her email.

  Hey guys! Just got to the hostel, and settling in! My room is small, but I think it will be perfect for my time here, because I won't be in my room very much! The city is beautiful. It’s everything that I could have imagined it to be. Lots of old and new, and somehow it works! I don't think it would in Maine, though!

  That was the truth, of course, but it was all so vague. She chewed on her lip. How could she give more info without giving everything away?

  An idea sparked.

  I had a super authentic local dish tonight, full of veggies and spices. And I think I had lamb for the first time! And the wine. Oh, Mom, you would love the red wine here. If I can, I’ll try to bring you home a bottle!

  Tomorrow I’ll be taking a tour of the city and spending the afternoon at one of the markets. I can't wait to see all of the people and the souvenirs I can take home! Later this week, we are going into some of the more ancient parts of the city, you know, to do the touristy stuff.

  She smiled. This actually was all the truth. Except they still thought she was in a totally different country.

  Well, I love you both, and will be in touch again soon. The internet is awful here, so bear with me if it takes a while. Give the kitties a squeeze for me!

  Slumping into her mattress, Jenna fell asleep no more than five minutes after hitting Send.

  Chapter Three

  She woke up before dawn the next morning, knowing that her internal clock was still pretty off, but she felt rested enough. She didn’t remember waking up and setting her laptop on her dresser, but she must have done so at some point in the night.