The Sheikh's Quadruplet Baby Surprise

by Holly Rayner

  heading north. To their left, the ocean swept on. “You don’t get sick of the ocean, do you?”

  “Never,” Sean said, joining her as they watched the sun set over it, burning oranges and pinks and reds into the water. “It opens my soul in ways technology cannot.”

  This resonated with Charlotte. She remembered her long walks along the Atlantic with her father, during which he’d told her that he’d always longed to work outside, to work with his hands. Becoming a salesman had never been his dream, it was just steady and convenient. When she’d explained to him her love of the law, disappointment had ripped through his face. He hadn’t imagined an office life for her. He’d wanted her to be out in the world.

  The limousine continued to whisk them from the city out into the countryside. Charlotte couldn’t get enough of the scenery as she finished her champagne far too quickly. She watched without words as Sean poured her another, and then added to his own. Clearly, he could sense her anxiety was high. They weren’t doing the right thing. Or maybe they were.

  EIGHT

  The limousine crept onto a dusty, dirt road and then parked beside an old restaurant, which had been converted from a train station nearly fifty years before, Sean said. The train station sat directly beside a lake, which offered a pier that held countless sailboats, all of them tilting in the slight evening breeze. Charlotte felt breathless, looking at the view.

  “This is gorgeous,” she whispered.

  “I got us a table on the pier,” Sean said, smiling and finishing his glass of champagne. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starving,” Charlotte said truthfully. She waited as Sean rushed around to her side of the limo, helping her from her seat. “Such a gentleman. I don’t think I sensed that in you during your speech.”

  “I should have known it was a pre-date interview, rather than just a speech at Yale,” Sean breathed, laughing. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”

  “I’d have worn something more fitting, if only I’d known,” she said, gesturing to her office attire. She knew she looked good regardless, her lean, fit body on display, her outfit revealing just enough but not too much.

  “I can’t imagine what I would think if you’d actually tried, then,” Sean said. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her toward the old train station. A maître d’ greeted them at the entrance and led them down the hill, towards the pier, where a table had been set up along the water. The pier faced west, allowing them to see the grand painting of oranges and pinks and reds once more as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

  “No clouds tonight,” Sean said, gesturing. “I can’t believe our luck.”

  He ordered them the most expensive wine on the menu, a Cabernet Sauvignon, and Charlotte wondered if he actually knew anything about wine, in his tech-filled brain, or if he usually just ordered the most expensive, knowing he had money to burn. She didn’t dare ask. Rather, she busied herself with her menu, worried she had already seemed too eager, too into him. She wanted to play coy—at least for now.

  The waiter took their order moments later, and in a state of minor panic, Charlotte chose the pasta—the cheaper option—and noted that Sean ordered the steak. She folded her hands over her lap, watching as Sean poured her a glass of wine and filled his own. His dark eyes sparkled with the light over the lake.

  “This might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.

  “In all your years, this sunset over this lake is it for you?” she asked, laughing.

  He shrugged, laughing slightly. “Do you want to make a toast?”

  “Sure,” she said, straightening herself. “I think we should toast to our upcoming work. To beating Evan Greene at his own game. And to telling the world that you, Sean Lawson, haven’t taken anything from anyone. You’ve reached out and grasped the world for yourself. And I respect that, more than anything.” She gave him an intimate look before clinking his glass and lifting her own to her lips.

  They eased into the date, dancing around each other with their words. They were both playful with each other, and Charlotte hadn’t expected this—she hadn’t expected such ease of conversation with a billionaire.

  Charlotte chewed her meal slowly when it came, allowing the flavor to glide over her tongue. It was truly the best pasta she’d ever had, with a perfect pesto sauce and a delicious, fresh salad. She didn’t want to rave about it; she wanted to seem a bit higher class. But she assumed Sean knew how special this was to her.

  “This lake,” Sean suddenly spoke, placing his fork and knife onto his half-finished plate. “I can’t get enough of it. I should come camping out here some time.”

  “Do you camp by yourself?” she asked him, surprised.

  “I do. I like to go in the early fall, when the leaves are changing and when the weather’s about to turn. I feel closest to the earth, then. Calmer.”

  “I wouldn’t have expected such a techie to be enamored with nature,” she said. “I mean, appreciating a sunset is one thing. But going out into the wild, building a fire, picking berries and such? I wouldn’t have pegged you for it.”

  “Sure. I used to do it when college got to be too much for me. I’d go out into the northeastern woods and pray I wouldn’t find a bear.” He laughed. “But honestly, my entire life, I’ve preferred things that don’t cost anything. I know money is a huge issue. It’s the reason I started InvestMe.”

  “I saw the speech,” Charlotte teased. “I have a pretty good sense for why you started it.”

  “Good point,” Sean laughed. “But beyond InvestMe, beyond this really lovely dinner, beyond that limousine, I mostly appreciate the simple things. And in so many ways, the little things—like just talking here with you, or remembering bits of the past, like that cufflink—are all free. And they have real meaning. I think that’s my favorite part of being alive. Living for the little things.”

  Charlotte leaned back, smiling widely. His words spoke to her. She felt all reservations about being on a date with her client fall away, and she felt her heart begin to beat with lust and passion for this man. In so many ways, she was still that eighteen-year-old girl, enamored with Sean in every way.

  “That was beautifully put,” she whispered. She leaned toward him. “I think my father is like that. He hates money. Complains about it constantly. Can’t imagine why I wanted to be involved with the tech law scene over here, if only because it reeks of money. Of course, he’s an insurance salesman. So it doesn’t quite make sense, does it?”

  Sean raised his eyebrows. “I suppose we all have to do what we have to do. And you, my dear, had to become a lawyer. It’s in your blood. I can smell it on you.”

  “I’m not one of those stinking, New York lawyers that smell perpetually of hot dogs and whiskey, am I?” she laughed.

  “No,” Sean said, shaking his head. “You just have a fire about you. You have something extra. I can’t put my finger on it.” He brought his hand toward hers on the table, and Charlotte looked down, assessing the tiny space between them. She swallowed, feeling suddenly anxious.

  After dinner, Sean suggested they take a stroll by the lake, and Charlotte readily agreed, feeling that she was already nose-deep—she might as well put her hair under.

  “Have you ever gone skinny dipping?” Charlotte asked him, gazing out across the water. The light illuminated his face, giving a glow to all his features, and she felt silly for how much she loved looking at him.

  “Skinny dipping? Let me see,” he said, stroking his perfect jaw. “I have gone by myself, but never with anyone else.”

  “That’s funny,” Charlotte laughed, feeling sheepish, now. “Most people do it at parties. With people. To show off.”

  “I went when I was camping,” Sean said. “I just longed to feel my legs and arms in the water without obstruction. It was glorious, really. And I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing or judging my body.”

  Charlotte wanted to interject, to tell him how wonderful she was sure he looked beneath his
clothes. But she pushed it back. “I’ve never done it, I admit. My friends went once at a party at Yale, and I decided to go home and study. I didn’t want to get my hair wet.” She laughed at herself, hopeful that her truthfulness wasn’t putting him off.

  “I would have done the same thing,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s almost like we had the same college experience.”

  “Well I didn’t come out of it featured in a magazine,” Charlotte countered. “But…I suppose you’re right. I wish you would have been there for the lonely nights.” Had she really just said that to him? Had those words really come out of her mouth?

  Sean looked at her, clearing his throat. He gestured toward the limousine, which they’d absent-mindedly walked back to. Beside them, the restaurant was closing for the night; people were sipping the last of their wines and going home, and servers were cleaning up.

  “Are you ready to go home?” he asked her. His eyes were searching her face, trying to evaluate her feelings.

  But Charlotte peered up at him with confidence. Bold words came cascading out of her mouth, then. “Why don’t we have a nightcap at your place?” she said, smiling.

  And so, they hopped into the limousine, and Charlotte found herself grasping Sean’s hand. Her heart leaped into her throat, her every limb was tense, and her smile seemed glued to her face. The limousine drove them back to Seattle, where, she knew, what she’d formerly known of the world would come crashing down around her.

  NINE

  Sean’s penthouse was in the heart of downtown Seattle, near Pike’s Place Market, with an incredible view of the water. Stars dotted overhead, making the atmosphere even more romantic. Charlotte felt outside of her body as the limousine pulled to a stop outside the apartment block—the night, thus far, had been surreal, magical.

  Sean turned toward her, oddly nervous—but he hadn’t asked her again, hadn’t inquired if this was the right thing, or not. They’d only held hands. They’d only implied their feelings for one another. Whatever happened in the penthouse apartment didn’t need to be sexual; it could be a conversation, followed by coffee—but in truth, that wasn’t what Charlotte was hoping for.

  Sean helped her from the backseat of the limo, lacing his fingers through hers. Their hearts seemed to beat together, their pulses aligned. “We’ll take the elevator up,” he told her, his voice warm. “If you’re ready.”

  The elevator was glass, floor to ceiling, and they soared up to the tenth floor, where Sean used a small silver key that brought the door open directly into the foyer of his penthouse.

  Immediately, Charlotte felt a gasp escape her. She hadn’t meant to reveal her amazement at his wealth—especially given she’d told him, in no uncertain terms, that she was interested in him for him. But his penthouse suite was surely the height of luxury: the floors were marble, gleaming, almost as if they’d never been walked upon, and the foyer swept down a small staircase, into a cozy living room lined with leather couches. Up from the living room, a spiral staircase crept up to a kind of heavenly bedroom loft, where a king-sized bed splayed out, surrounded by crowded bookshelves.

  “How many books do you have?” Charlotte asked, her voice full of wonder.

  “You’re the first woman who’s ever asked me that,” Sean laughed. He gestured her toward the kitchen, where he found a bottle of fine whiskey in his liquor cabinet and poured them both generous splashes of the amber liquid. “Do you mind yours straight?” he asked.

  Charlotte hadn’t drunk much whiskey straight—she hadn’t drunk much of it at all. But she had come too far to say no; this was a night for going out of her comfort zone. “I’ll have it straight, sure,” she said, her voice echoing in the vast kitchen.

  Sean led her out into the living room and they sat on one of the plush leather sofas. He pressed a button on a remote, and soft indie music began to fold into her ears from the surrounding speakers. She felt she was in heaven on earth.

  “I can’t believe you live like this,” Charlotte thought out loud. “And yet you still go camping.”

  Sean laughed again. He placed his glass on the table before him, gazing into her eyes. “I’ve had a really wonderful time tonight.”

  “Is this the part where you say you want to see me again?” Charlotte teased. “And I blink at you like a doll, telling you I really hope to see you again, too?”

  “If we’re playing the roles of a ‘90s sitcom, I think you’re correct,” Sean said. “If only I’d met you for real in 2006. You were probably wearing…a jean skirt? Something from Abercrombie and Fitch.”

  “They were the glory days of fashion,” Charlotte smiled. “I still remember what you wore; a suit that didn’t quite fit. Who helped you pick that out?”

  Sean sighed, his eyebrows rising. “Actually, Evan did,” he shrugged. “He was always the stylish one. He had a knack for knowing what to wear to get girls to notice him, and what to wear around professors so they would take you seriously. But yeah—that suit. It was a bit too big. To be honest, I was so nervous before that speech, I lost about ten pounds in a month.” He snickered, shaking his head. “I ate way too much pizza before that, though.”

  “Oh, yes. Freshman weight gain. I know it well,” Charlotte laughed.