The Sheikh's Must-Have Baby

by Holly Rayner

“But he’s healthy? Everything’s okay?”

  “Everything is great. You did beautifully, Joanna.”

  He hesitated, wondering if he dared, and then bent and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

  “You’re my hero, you know.”

  She closed her eyes and leaned back on her pillows.

  A moment later, the doctor had returned with the baby in his arms.

  “Somebody wants to meet his mama,” he said, passing him to Joanna.

  She took him and gazed down at his tiny face.

  “He’s perfect,” she whispered. “I never saw anything so perfect in all my life.”

  “He looks like you,” Ahmad said quietly.

  “What?” She shook her head. “No, he doesn’t.”

  “He does. He has your jawline, see?”

  “He has my jawline?” She chuckled. “Look at his eyes. They’re the same color as yours. And that hair! It’s just like yours. He’s going to fit in beautifully in Al-Yara.”

  “And yourself?”

  She smiled. “I suppose I’ll learn to fit in too,” she said.

  Until that moment, he hadn’t known. He hadn’t been sure she was planning to stay. He had hoped. He had planned for it. But he hadn’t been positive.

  Now, he knew, and the feeling of relief that washed over him was like nothing he had ever felt in his life.

  Their little family would remain united.

  “About the money…” Ahmad said.

  “We don’t need to talk about the money now,” Joanna said. “We’ll work all that out later.”

  “There’s nothing to work out,” Ahmad said.

  “Well, I just don’t want to ruin this moment for you,” Joanna said.

  “Nothing could,” Ahmad said. “But I agreed to pay you five hundred thousand to carry my child, and I intend to do so. You’ve been paid half that amount so far. Now that the child has been safely delivered, I’ll arrange for the rest to be deposited into your account.”

  “Really, Ahmad, it’s not—” She broke off, looking over his shoulder. “Who are you?”

  Ahmad turned to see who she was looking at and nearly fell out of his chair.

  His mother and father were standing in the doorway staring at him with identical expressions of shock on their faces.

  I didn’t tell them in time.

  And now, they had overheard him discussing the details of the arrangement with Joanna. He got hurriedly to his feet.

  “Mother,” he said. “Father.”

  Behind him, he heard Joanna gasp.

  “Ahmad,” his father said coldly. “Join us outside, please.”

  Ahmad looked over his shoulder at Joanna. He didn’t want to leave her so soon after she had given birth. He wanted to tell his parents to go away and that he would see them when he had the time.

  But this had to be dealt with, eventually.

  Joanna gave him a nod to show that she understood.

  “Go,” she said. “We’re fine.”

  He turned and followed his parents out of the hospital room.

  He expected that they would confront him in the hallway. Instead, they led him several doors down from Joanna’s room into a small waiting room that had been designed for the use of one family at a time. Ahmad stepped inside, and his spirits sank even lower. Umar was sitting in one of the chairs, looking somehow outraged and triumphant at the same time.

  “So?” his older brother asked. “Is it true?”

  “It’s true,” his father said. “I saw the girl with my own eyes.”

  “She’s just given birth,” his mother said.

  “That doesn’t mean he can claim the inheritance,” Umar said furiously. “That wasn’t what the will intended, and we all know it.”

  “Be silent, Umar,” his mother said. “Let’s just discuss this and try to sort out what happened here.”

  “We know what happened,” Umar snapped. “Ahmad was so anxious to get his hands on poor old Uncle Hakim’s fortune that he duped all of us! He conceived a child out of wedlock with a foreigner.”

  “And he did so by paying her off,” Ahmad’s father said. “That sort of conduct is absolutely unacceptable for a member of the Al-Yaran royal family. Just imagine the things that will be said about us—about all of us—because of your behavior, Ahmad!”

  “Who is that poor girl?” his mother asked. “How did you meet her? How did you convince her to take part in this scheme? Does she know about the inheritance money? What does she hope to gain from being associated with the royal family in this way?”

  “She’s not trying to gain anything,” Ahmad protested. “She’s a good person. She wanted a child. That was all.”

  “A likely story,” his father said. “Why did you offer her money at all, then, if the only thing she wanted was a child?”

  “Because she doesn’t have it,” Ahmad said. “And I want my child to be raised with every advantage.”

  “You’re not going to believe his lies, are you?” Umar asked their parents. “It’s obvious what happened here. He was angry when he discovered he wasn’t going to inherit. You know that pipe dream he’s always nurtured about starting his own airline. Uncle Hakim was the only one who ever played along with it, and Ahmad must have assumed that meant he would inherit the money. He was furious when he didn’t, so he decided to take matters into his own hands.”

  “How did you even find out about her?” Ahmad asked.

  “You weren’t as discreet as you thought you were,” Umar sneered. “Taking a royal charter boat to bring her here! Do you know how many employees on that boat took notice of the fact that you were going around with a pregnant American girl? Do you know how many of them found it bizarre?”

  Ahmad closed his eyes. Of course. He hadn’t even thought to ask the boat crew to keep his secret. How could he have been so foolish?

  “You’ve brought shame to us all,” Umar said. “And all because your strange fantasies and selfish desires couldn’t be controlled.”

  “You don’t know anything about my fantasies,” Ahmad shot back. “And you don’t know Joanna, either. She’s a wonderful woman. She deserves to be the mother of a sheikh. She’s kind and generous and incredibly smart, and the only thing she wants from us is the right to help raise her child.”

  “Oh, that she’ll definitely have,” his father said. “That girl and that baby are on the next plane back to America, and we’ll discuss them no further.”

  “What?” Ahmad said, his hands forming into fists.

  Umar folded his arms, looking smug.

  “You can’t do that,” Ahmad said through gritted teeth.

  “Of course I can,” said his father. “Do not forget, son, that my brother currently sits upon the throne. I have only to ask him to deport this young woman.”

  “The baby is a member of the royal family,” Ahmad protested.

  “Not without acceptance from the ruling Sheikh,” Umar said. “And you’ll never get that without Father’s approval. Face it, Ahmad, your plan has failed. You’re not going to inherit Uncle Hakim’s money.”

  “This isn’t about Uncle Hakim’s money,” Ahmad said. “You’re talking about sending my son away from the country, where he’ll forever be beyond my reach.” He looked at his father. “What if someone had tried to do that to me when I was born? Could you have stood for that? What if I’d been torn from your arms, and you’d never seen me again?”

  His father, stony-faced, said nothing.

  “It isn’t the same, Ahmad,” his mother said. “Can’t you see the difference? You were wanted. You were our joy. You were so much more than just a tool to help us claim inheritance money.”

  Ahmad felt as though his insides were melting.

  “Never refer to my son that way again,” he said. “And have a care how you talk about his mother, as well. She’s a part of my family.”

  “A part of your family?” Umar scoffed. “Ahmad, you don’t pay members of your family to belong with you. But then, I suppo
se that’s a lesson you never learned, since you feel so entitled to Uncle Hakim’s money. I suppose you think that family is only family if there is some kind of financial dependence at play, and that love is something you can buy. That’s the real reason you had to give that girl money, isn’t it? Because no woman would ever have a baby with you without some kind of incentive.”

  “Umar, stop that,” his mother said sharply. “You’re being needlessly cruel. We’ve agreed that Ahmad will not inherit the money. We’ll find a way to put a stop to the will. We’ll hire a lawyer, if we must.”

  “You don’t have to hire a lawyer,” Ahmad said. He had never felt so angry in all his life. To think that the day of his son’s birth was now being ruined by this conversation! “I don’t care what you do with Uncle Hakim’s money. Give it to Umar, if it’s so important to him. He can have it.”

  His family stared at him, Umar in frank disbelief, his parents in confusion.

  “Maybe my arrangement with Joanna started out as you said it did,” he told them. “I confess that I did want to claim the inheritance. I wanted to use it to start my business, just as you said, Umar. And I know that’s something Uncle Hakim would want to support.”

  “You can’t know—” Umar started.

  “I do know,” Ahmad cut him off. “I know because Uncle Hakim and I discussed it many times.”

  “Then why wouldn’t he just leave you the money in his will?” Umar sneered. “If you’re so sure about what he wanted, explain that one.”

  “I can,” Ahmad said. “I can explain it because I understand the things Uncle Hakim said in his will now. He wrote of his regret that he had never had a child of his own, and I think that if he hadn’t done that, I would never have taken the steps I took. I would never have had my son.”

  The family looked at him in silence. Even Umar didn’t seem to have anything to say to that.

  “I don’t believe Uncle Hakim would object to the way my family came together,” Ahmad said. “I believe he would be happy that I’ve learned the lesson he wanted to teach. I know the value of family now, the value of love and of parenthood, and without that will, I don’t know if I ever would have found those things. So I have no regrets.”

  Ahmad took a deep breath, calming himself.

  “As for the money, that doesn’t matter so much to me as it did once. I’ll find a way to make my dream of opening an airline come true, someday. But I refuse to spend the day of my son’s birth sitting here being yelled at by the three of you. I’m going back to Joanna, and we are going to celebrate the fact that we have a newborn child.”

  He got to his feet. Everyone in the room was still watching him, their mouths hanging open as if they had never seen anything like him before.

  “You can celebrate with us,” Ahmad said. “This baby is a part of your family, too. Your grandchild. Your nephew. You can be part of this joy.”

  He walked to the door, pulled it open, then stopped and looked back at them.

  “But if you have them deported,” he added, “know that I’ll give up my part in the royal family and go with them. If you make me choose between you and them, I choose them.”

  Chapter 18

  Ahmad

  “Ahmad, wait,” his father said.

  Ahmad paused, his hand still on the door. If they thought they were going to talk him out of his decision to stand by his family, they were sorely mistaken.

  “We didn’t realize you felt this way,” his father said. “We’ve never seen this kind of maturity from you, to be honest. We may have judged you unfairly here.”

  “Oh, come on,” Umar protested. “He says the right thing, and suddenly you’re on his side? The facts haven’t changed. He paid a stranger to have a baby for him so that he could claim Uncle Hakim’s money.”

  “Listen, we should have just agreed to split that money from the start,” Ahmad said. “There’s no reason one of us should have it all. If the will stipulates that I inherit now that I have a son, I’ll give equal shares to you and to Rafi. We shouldn’t let this come between us.”

  “You’re way too late for that,” Umar said.

  “No, he isn’t,” their mother said. “I think that’s a fine idea, Ahmad. I think your uncle would be proud of you today.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Umar said.

  “Umar, why don’t you go home,” their father said. “You’re not really needed in this conversation, and you don’t appear to be in the mood to celebrate the birth of your nephew.”

  Ahmad was overjoyed to hear his father refer to his son as a part of the family.

  “Do you want to come and meet him, Father?”

  His parents got up and followed him out the door. Umar stayed behind in the waiting room, gaping after them like a fish.

  Ahmad led the way back to Joanna’s hospital room, knocked, and opened the door.

  “Could you handle some visitors?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said, smiling tiredly. “My mother went back to her hotel, by the way.”

  “That’s probably good.” Joanna’s mother had flown out only the day before, and she was still badly jet-lagged. “She’ll be back in a few hours?”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  He nodded. “Mother, Father, this is Joanna Perkins,” he said. “And this is our son.”

  He lifted the baby from Joanna’s arms and passed him to his mother.

  She looked down and exclaimed happily. “He looks just like you, Ahmad!”

  “You see?” Joanna said. “I told you he did.”

  “Ahmad, we’d like to take you out to dinner,” his father said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

  Ahmad shook his head. “I can’t leave Joanna.”

  “Of course you can,” she said. “I’m just going to fall asleep in a few minutes anyway, and they’ll take the baby down to the nursery. There isn’t going to be anything for you to do here. Go have dinner with your parents.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked her.

  “I’m barely keeping my eyes open,” she said. “Trust me, it’ll be a relief for me to be on my own for a while and just crash.”

  Ahmad turned to his father. “All right,” he said. “Should we tell Umar?”

  “I think Umar has made it clear that he’s guilty of all the things he wanted to accuse you of today,” Ahmad’s father said. “His only concern here was what was going to happen to the money according to the will. He has no interest in this child, or in what’s best for our family. Let him go back home. I don’t want him souring our meal together.”

  Ahmad nodded. It was a relief to realize that his father had finally seen the truth of what he had been trying to say.

  A car sat waiting outside the hospital, and Ahmad and his parents got in. As the car pulled away, Ahmad’s father pulled out his phone and called ahead to one of Ahmad’s favorite restaurants in the city, reserving a private table for the three of them.

  Ahmad couldn’t help but feel touched. When was the last time his parents had taken him out to dinner? He couldn’t think of it. And to think, they still remembered what his favorite restaurant was, after all this time.

  Maybe they hadn’t been the only ones to judge in haste. Maybe he had made assumptions about them, too. Perhaps he should have been more forthcoming about his plans with Joanna. Maybe he should have told them before today that he thought he had fallen in love.

  They arrived at the restaurant and were escorted up the stairs to the second floor and seated at a table in a little alcove, where Ahmad knew they would be able to have a private conversation. He took the seat in the corner, allowing his parents to sit on the outside.

  Ahmad’s father ordered for the three of them, as was customary in their family. It was a practice that had often annoyed Ahmad—it seemed antiquated, and he would have preferred to make his own selections. But right now, just having dinner with his family was such a delight that he couldn’t find it within him to object to anything.

  “So, this gi
rl,” his father said, once their server had gone to convey the order to the kitchen.

  “Joanna,” Ahmad said.

  “Joanna,” his father agreed. “How did you meet her, exactly?”

  Ahmad told the story of Joanna’s incursion onto his private beach and the way he had invited her to stay for lunch.

  “I didn’t know then what we would become to each other,” he added quickly. “I had no idea how important she would be to me. I was just trying to show her hospitality and leave her with a positive impression of Al-Yara.”

  “As is your duty, as a member of the royal family,” his father agreed. “That was well done.”

  “I don’t know if Umar would think so.”

  “Your brother has never fully embraced the responsibility he has to make a good impression,” Ahmad’s father said. “I believe him to be more interested in what the nation of Al-Yara can do to serve his interests than in how he can serve the people.”

  “Then why would you want him to inherit Uncle Hakim’s money at all?” Ahmad asked, bewildered. “Why would you take his side in this argument, if you think he’s so self-interested?”

  “Because we judged you too harshly,” his father said. “We thought you had the same flaw. It seemed to us—to all of us—that the only reason you had entered into your arrangement with Joanna was so you could inherit the money, and use it to chase down this dream of yours.”

  “In your defense, that was what I was going to do, at first,” Ahmad admitted. “But I really do think it’s in everyone’s best interests if we just split the money. I’ll take my third and use it to help get my airline off the ground, and then I’ll speak to investors. I’m sure I can find enough people who are willing to back my idea, so I can get things started.”

  “Well,” his father said, “you won’t have to look far to find your first investors.” He reached out and took his wife’s hand. “Your mother and I can see the difference in you, Ahmad. We thought this plan of yours was childish, and that you weren’t ready to make it happen, but we can see now that you are. We’d be happy to invest.”

  “I wasn’t intending to ask you for money,” Ahmad protested.