The Sheikh's Must-Have Baby Read online

  The Sheikh's Must-Have Baby

  Holly Rayner

  Contents

  1. Joanna

  2. Joanna

  3. Ahmad

  4. Joanna

  5. Joanna

  6. Ahmad

  7. Joanna

  8. Ahmad

  9. Joanna

  10. Ahmad

  11. Joanna

  12. Ahmad

  13. Joanna

  14. Ahmad

  15. Ahmad

  16. Joanna

  17. Ahmad

  18. Ahmad

  19. Joanna

  Epilogue

  Also by Holly Rayner

  Copyright 2020 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.

  Chapter 1

  Joanna

  “Excuse me! Excuse me, miss!”

  Joanna sighed and hitched a smile onto her face. She was well into the fourth hour of her eight-hour flight home from Bolivia, and at times like these, it felt like the only thing keeping her going was the promise of a couple of days off when she got home.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t like her job. Being a flight attendant was great. It allowed her to see the world in a way she could never have done without making a ton of money.

  But sometimes it was hard dealing with touchy and restless travelers for eight hours at a time.

  She made her way over to the woman who had called out to her. “How can I help you?” she asked, making sure to keep her tone warm and compassionate and her expression cheerful.

  One of the most important things she could do as a flight attendant was to set the tone for the travelers. She had to keep calm so that they wouldn’t get upset. She had to stay upbeat so the pressures of air travel wouldn’t overwhelm them.

  The woman held up the complimentary earbuds that the airline staff had placed in every seat-back pocket. “These don’t work,” she groused.

  Joanna held out her hand. “I’ll see if I can find you another pair,” she said.

  The woman dropped the earbuds in Joanna’s palm, squinted at the name tag she wore, and pulled out her phone.

  Great. She was probably using the plane’s Wi-Fi to log on to social media and complain.

  Sometimes Joanna wished she could tell her customers that it didn’t matter whether or not they threatened to complain about her. She was going to give everyone who flew with her the very best service she could provide. That was just who she was. So they might as well save their time and their ire.

  She made her way back to the rear of the plane, the galley, where supplies were kept. Her colleague Jill was already back there preparing a drink cart, and she looked up when Joanna came in.

  “What’s going on?” Jill asked. “We’re out of white wine, by the way.”

  “It’s meat loaf for dinner,” Joanna said. “Push the red. Just tell them the white isn’t the right pairing.”

  Jill burst out laughing. “You want me to suggest appropriate wine pairings for airline meat loaf?”

  “Well, or you can deal with two hundred people kicking up a ruckus about the fact that we don’t have their favorite pinot grigio,” Joanna chuckled. “It’s up to you.”

  “We should start heating up the dinners,” Jill said. “How many vegetarian meals did we have on this flight?”

  “Seven,” Joanna said. “I already pulled them to the front of the cooler so we could do them first. The list of seats that get them is pinned up there.” She pointed.

  Jill shook her head. “Has anyone ever told you that you were born to do this job?”

  “Don’t say that,” Joanna groaned. She dropped the earbuds she’d been given in the trash and fished around in the compartment for a new pair. “Let me take these earbuds back out to 36D, and then I’ll come back and help with those veggie meals.”

  Jill nodded. “I’ll get them started.”

  Joanna headed out into the main cabin of the plane. The woman in seat 36D was twisted around in her seat, staring back at the galley.

  “Well, that took long enough,” she grumped as Joanna approached her.

  Joanna ignored the jab.

  “Try this pair,” she said, handing the sealed packet to the woman. “They should work. And can we get you started with a drink? The dinner service will be beginning shortly.”

  “White wine,” the woman said.

  Joanna gritted her teeth.

  “We’re actually suggesting red wine for tonight’s meal,” she said. “We’re having meat loaf, and it pairs very nicely with a pinot noir, if I can tempt you with that.”

  “Fine, then,” the woman said. “Red wine.”

  Joanna breathed a sigh of relief and returned to the galley to pour her troublesome passenger a cup of wine.

  She had almost reached Jill’s drink cart when her stomach gave a lurch. At first, she thought she had experienced turbulence, but she hadn’t lost her footing. And besides, she had never been prone to airsickness. Airsickness was a deal-breaker for a flight attendant.

  Her stomach lurched again. She hurried into the galley.

  Jill looked up and frowned. “What’s up with you?” she asked. “You’re ghostly white.”

  “Can you take a glass of pinot noir to 36D, please?” Joanna asked.

  “Sure, but what’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “Just need the bathroom.” Joanna hurried into the bathroom, pulled the door closed, and locked it behind her.

  She was just in time. Her stomach lurched once more, and this time, she couldn’t suppress it. She bent low over the toilet and vomited, black spots obscuring her vision.

  She heaved and retched until she could no longer bring anything up. Finally finished, she slumped on the floor beside the toilet, reaching up for the flush.

  What the heck?

  Had she picked up a bug in Bolivia?

  Her mother had never been comfortable with the fact that Joanna’s job took her to so many exotic places. She had always urged Joanna to choose airport-adjacent hotels and to stay inside when she was abroad.

  Joanna had never listened. Her travel gave her opportunities she would never have had otherwise, and this might be the only time in her life she would have them. She was going to take advantage of that. If she had a night in Bolivia, she wanted to see Bolivia, not just the inside of a hotel.

  But now, she had to wonder if perhaps her mother had been right. Her muscles felt rubbery and her stomach was still very uneasy. She didn’t feel well at all.

  Carefully, she struggled to her feet and looked in the mirror.

  Jill had been right. She was as white as a sheet.

  A knock came at the bathroom door. “Jo? You in there? Are you going to come help me pass out these veggie meals?”

  Joanna took a deep breath and pulled herself together. There were still about four hours left on this flight. She owed it to Jill, and to the rest of the crew, not to go to pieces right now. If she did, they would have to finish the service without her, and that was a lot to ask on a long-haul flight like this one.

  She scrubbed her hands thoroughly under the faucet and splashed some water on her face. It didn’t make her feel better, exactly, but it did help her feel more alert. Then, she opened the door and stepped out int
o the galley.

  Jill stared at her. “You okay?” she asked. “You were in there for a while.”

  “Yeah, fine,” Joanna said. “I maybe ate something that didn’t agree with me.”

  She knew that wasn’t the case. If that had been the cause of her illness, vomiting would have made her feel better. Instead, she felt worse.

  “Do you want to go sit down?” Jill asked. “I can handle passing out the meals.”

  “No, not necessary,” Joanna said. “I can do this.”

  “Seriously. You look like you’re about to pass out or something,” Jill said. “If you drop in the middle of the aisle, the passengers are going to freak out. This plane will turn into a zoo. Nobody wants that.”

  “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Joanna held out a hand. “Give me that tray.”

  Jill bit her lip doubtfully, but she handed over a tray of warmed-up veggie pasta meals. Joanna balanced it in one hand and plucked the list of vegetarian passengers off the wall with the other. Then, she headed out into the cabin to deliver the food.

  Having something to do, something to take her mind off her illness was helpful. She focused on the seat numbers of the vegetarians and moved from one to the next quickly and efficiently, passing out the food, doing her best to smile and tell the passengers to enjoy their dinner.

  This was her job. Putting a brave face on things was what flight attendants did best. She could never appear to be nervous during a flight, she knew, because if one of the passengers was a nervous flier, they might read her face and decide they had something to fear.

  By the time she had finished handing out the veggie meals, Jill had the first batch of meat loaf ready. Joanna kept herself busy for the rest of the flight in this fashion—handing out meals, collecting trash when dinner was over, answering calls from various seats. She made only one more visit to the bathroom, this time when no one was around to notice, and though Jill cast worried glances her way a few more times, she said nothing else about Joanna’s health for the remainder of the flight.

  The plane touched down at Kansas City International Airport at 3:05 pm. Joanna was grateful for the fact that, on this trip, the time difference was both small and in her favor. If she had been flying in from Hawaii, they probably would have landed in the middle of the night.

  Then again, if we’d been in Hawaii, I probably wouldn’t have gotten sick.

  She waited until all the passengers had debarked and then turned to Jill.

  “You know what?” she said. “I am feeling a little under the weather, actually.”

  “Yeah, I thought you were,” Jill said. “Want to take off? I’ll finish turning over the cabin for the next crew.”

  “Are you sure?” Joanna asked gratefully. “I hate to leave you with the work.”

  “You’ll make it up to me sometime,” Jill said. “I’m not going to make you go through the cabin picking up trash. You look like you’re about to puke. Go on home and get some rest.”

  “Thanks,” Joanna said, grabbing her bag from the overhead compartment.

  “And hydrate!” Jill called after her. “Don’t forget to hydrate!”

  Joanna acknowledged the comment with a wave of her hand and stepped out onto the jetway.

  Ordinarily, landing in her home city was cause for celebration. Because Joanna was based out of Kansas City, her routes always brought her back here eventually, and stepping off a jetway into this familiar airport meant that she was facing a few days off. She would usually be on the phone to her mother or a friend already, making arrangements to get together while she was in town, taking full advantage of the layover.

  Today, though, the only thing she could think about was sprinting for the nearest bathroom.

  She locked herself in the furthest stall from the door, hunched over the toilet, and threw up again, wiping the sweat from her forehead with a wad of toilet paper.

  What’s wrong with me? she thought with a rush of fear.

  Whatever it was, it had come on fast. And Joanna wasn’t someone who was ordinarily prone to illness. It was strange and unfamiliar for her body to feel so weak.

  Maybe if she got something familiar to eat, she would feel better.

  But the thought of food made her heave again. This time, there was nothing left in her stomach to throw up, so she just clung to the toilet and rode out the retching until it was over.

  She staggered to her feet. I need to get out of here.

  The journey to the parking garage where she had left her car felt like crossing a minefield. The overpowering smells of the food court and the sounds of raucous people laughing at the bar assaulted her senses. By the time she made it outside into the fresh air, she was so dizzy that she had to stop and hang onto a guardrail for a few moments, allowing herself the time to recover.

  Whatever was going on, it was frightening. Joanna didn’t think she had ever felt this sick before.

  She made it to the small black beater car she had owned since graduating from college. She was fond of her car, despite its age, and she always took care to keep it immaculate inside. Today, she was glad she had done so. If she’d gotten in here and found some leftover food, she probably would have lost it.

  Did she have it together enough to drive? Maybe she ought to call a rideshare service.

  But all she really wanted was to get home and get into bed. The thought of having to make conversation with a driver was more than she wanted to deal with right now, and the thought of having to ask a driver to pull over so that she could throw up by the side of the road was excruciating.

  She reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone, thumbing absently through her list of contacts. It was still the middle of the day, and her doctor’s office would likely be open. Maybe they could offer some advice.

  She pressed the call button, put the phone on speaker, and rested her forehead on the steering wheel, trying to quell the dizziness.

  “Dr. Franco’s office,” a brisk voice said.

  “This is Joanna Perkins, a patient of Dr. Franco’s,” Joanna said. “I’m having some nausea and dizziness.”

  “Fever?” the receptionist asked in a bored tone.

  “I think so.” Joanna felt her own forehead, but it was useless as a barometer. She felt shaky, though. That usually accompanied a fever.

  “Have you traveled out of the country recently?”

  “I’m a flight attendant,” Joanna said. “I just came back from Bolivia. But I was only there for one night.”

  “Hold, please,” the receptionist said.

  Elevator music came through the phone speaker. Joanna tried to focus on it, breathing slowly the way she had learned in the yoga classes she attended sporadically. It helped a little. She wished she had a bottle of water.

  I probably wouldn’t be able to keep it down, though, she thought ruefully.

  With a click, the receptionist was back on the line. “Dr. Franco wants you to come in,” the girl said.

  “When?” Joanna asked.

  “Today.”

  “She has an opening today?”

  “She’s canceling another appointment.”

  That was worrying. Under ordinary circumstances, Joanna probably would have felt anxious, but at the moment, she was too overwhelmed by her illness for anything else to really register.

  “I can come now,” she said. “I just landed at KCI, so I’m about an hour away.”

  “That’s fine,” the receptionist said. “I’m putting it into the computer now. We’ll see you here in an hour.”

  “Thanks.” Joanna hung up the phone.

  Well, at least I’m going to get some answers. Hopefully, Dr. Franco will be able to give me some kind of antibiotic that will clear all this up, and I’ll be feeling better by morning.

  Hopes high, Joanna started her car and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Chapter 2

  Joanna

  By the time Joanna reached Dr. Franco’s office, her vision was tunneling. She had pulled ove
r three times to dry-heave on the side of the road, but there was nothing in her stomach left to bring up. Her eyes were watery as she staggered into the reception area and up to the desk.

  The receptionist, a blonde girl who couldn’t have been older than twenty-two, took one look at her and called out, “Dr. Franco!”

  The door that led to the examination rooms opened, and Dr. Franco emerged. She was a bespectacled woman in her mid-fifties with steel-gray hair and a no-nonsense demeanor, although Joanna knew her to have an impeccable bedside manner.

  “Joanna,” she said. “Come on in. I’ve got exam room three all ready for you.”

  Joanna nodded and braced herself with a hand on the wall.

  “Do you need to stop by the restroom?” the doctor asked solicitously.

  “I don’t think so,” Joanna murmured.

  “Okay.” Dr. Franco waited for Joanna to pass and then followed her toward an open door with a big number three hanging from it.

  It was a relief to get up onto the examination table. Ordinarily, Joanna went to the chairs when she was at her doctor’s office unless she had been specifically told to get up on the table, but today, all she wanted was to be horizontal. She lay back without being asked and closed her eyes.

  “I’m putting a cup of water with a straw on the tray,” Dr. Franco said, picking up Joanna’s hand and guiding it to the cup. “Try to drink, if you can. It’s important to stay hydrated when you’re running a fever.”

  “Am I?”

  There was a brief sensation of pressure in her ear.

  “102.3.”

  “That’s high.”

  “Yes, it is,” Dr. Franco agreed. “How long have you been feeling ill?”