The Billionaire's Christmas Bundle Of Joy - A Secret Baby Romance

by Holly Rayner

  After a long day of exploring, the pair returned to their home for the weekend: a private residence owned by two of Malik’s childhood friends, Ali and Selma, who cooked an amazing, authentic Egyptian feast and told them all the local gossip. Before long the foursome had talked well into the wee hours of the morning. The hosts insisted they share a bedroom and, after much protesting, Amie and Malik finally relented.

  Malik insisted on taking the floor, and Amie was too tired to protest. She watched as he set up the spare pillows and blankets and start making something resembling a bed on the space next to the mattress. She watched him for several minutes before she finally came down to lay on the floor with him.

  “This kind of defeats the purpose of me being down here,” he whispered.

  “Talk to me, just for a minute,” she said with a sleepy smile, stealing some of his blankets.

  “You want to talk about how silly and proud you look when someone mistakes you for a local?”

  “Pass,” she giggled. “How about… why you brought me here?”

  Malik looked at her for a moment and then turned on his side, propping his head up with his hand. “I love Egypt,” he said plainly. “You become a whole other person when you’re exploring a monument or when you’re in the market.” He shrugged as best he could with only one free arm. “It’s infectious, and I wanted for you to be able to experience it. Besides, I thought we could use a break from all the acting.”

  She stared in wonder. “There are so many things I don’t know.”

  He laughed, hard. “Well, I could have told you that!”

  “Hey!” she laughed, smacking him lightly on the chest. She smiled and stared into his hazel eyes as some unwholesome feelings once again began stirring inside of her.

  She looked away from him and stared up at the ceiling above, changing the subject quickly. “So, your mother wants to take me shopping for a wedding dress. Do you think I should I go with her?”

  “Of course,” he smiled, “Whatever makes it more believable.”

  “I like your mother,” she said plainly.

  He laughed, as though there was no need to say as much. “I know,” he said with his brows raised. “You talk about her all the time.”

  “Be nice! That’s your mama you’re talking about,” she joked.

  “And she’s a lovely woman with many achievements under her belt,” he said dutifully. “I just don’t need to hear about it every minute.”

  She stared at him for a moment and wasn’t sure whether or not he was joking. Feeling this, he finally turned his head to her and offered a playful wink.

  “So… are you in a relationship back home?” Amie ventured.

  Malik chuckled. “We went straight from my mother to my sex life?”

  “Actually, no one mentioned your sex life,” Amie said, her voice betraying some annoyance. “I just asked if you were seeing anybody.”

  “I’m not, currently. Are you?”

  She pursed her lips and shook her head. “No…”

  What right she had to know about his relationships, she had no idea. Would he even call them relationships? Zafina sure did like to rub in how many women her brother had been with, or how many women in Rabayat were hopelessly in love with him.

  “Does it make you feel bad?” she asked quietly, her heart suddenly pounding as she wondered if what she was about to say would land her out of a job.

  “Does what?” he asked quietly, looking into her eyes and absent-mindedly taking her hand in his.

  “Lying,” Amie said plainly. “To your mother—to your whole family—about all this.”

  “Actually, it doesn’t,” he laughed. “What I was doing before made me feel bad. This… this feels right.” He lifted her hand into the air and looked on as their fingers intertwined. “I’d rather they not be disappointed in me, or worry that I’m shaming the family. It’s not ideal, of course, but it’s better this way.”

  “It’s a mother’s right to worry,” Amie teased.

  He shrugged, finally releasing her hand from his. “Well, I have to say I’m a little tired of it. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

  “Or, you know, hide them,” she laughed.

  He stared for a moment before relenting to a chuckle. “Or that, too. Now come on, to bed; we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  “We do?”

  He nodded and gestured as if to tell her to scoot her back to bed. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”

  Amie would have protested, but no sooner had her head touched the pillow, she was already asleep, dreaming of pyramids, desert vistas, and handsome pharaohs.

  TEN

  The next morning, after breakfast, the pair left Ali and Selma’s home for a camel ride across the plains of Giza, southwest of Cairo. Giza was a necropolis for ancient pharaohs, and a tourist haven for tombs and historical tours. The journey to the three famous pyramids took Amie by surprise, as they moved from bustling city to stark, beautiful desert.

  The desert was hot, but no discomfort could take away from the feeling Amie got in the pit of her stomach when they started approaching the pyramids. The ancient structures towered over them, and the closer they got, the less real everything seemed.

  These ancient tombs had been around longer than most other things on the planet. The tallest standing at 481 feet, these living monuments told a story.

  Malik hopped off his camel and, with a bit of assistance from their tour guide, Amie soon followed suit. They began walking closer to the largest pyramid, Khufu, where they could see tourists climbing on top of the rocks and taking photos. It seemed wrong to her, somehow, that just anybody could touch such a sacred thing.

  “I find it unusual that you don’t take many pictures,” Malik said suddenly; his voice cutting through the hot air.

  Amie smiled. “I like to keep special memories to myself. Forgive me if I don’t want to have a milestone in my life graded by how many likes it gets.”

  “Hey, I was being serious!” he laughed and came up behind her, grabbing her hand gently before letting go.

  They stared in wonder at the monuments and Amie’s thoughts drifted away from the view, to Malik. She had been trying to hide it from herself, but she just couldn’t ignore her feelings any longer. Everything about this trip was making her head spin. She knew the horrors of mixing business with pleasure, but everything about her new boss made her feel welcomed, wanted, special, and full of anticipation for what would come next. No one had ever kept up with her the way he did. And his mother. What a ridiculous thing to adore, but… she had felt an instant bond with her.

  And this would all be well and good… if this weren’t all a job. If Amie hadn’t made a paycheck out of deceiving this hopeful mother. Even more so, she began to feel ridiculous every time she looked at Malik, or felt a blush form across her cheeks when he smiled. Why would he bring her here, and act this way around her, she wondered, even though none of his family were around to see?

  Everything in her mind screamed that her feelings were a terrible idea that should be buried, so she was trying her best. It was amazing, not to mention irritating to her, that the affections of a guy she had really only just met could overwhelm her, even when she was literally looking at one of the wonders of the world.

  Men.

  She sighed inwardly and turned to Malik with a smile, wanting desperately to think about anything else. Pulling herself back together she demanded, “Now, give me all the dirt.”

  “They’re made of sand, not dirt,” he said mockingly.

  “Ha-ha,” she said, rolling her eyes. “No, give me the dirt on the pyramids. Tell me about the conspiracies!”

  “Oh no,” he laughed, walking closer to the age-old monuments. “You’re not one of those, are you?”

  “Oh, stop,” she laughed. “Just tell me what people think they are, and then tell me what you think they are.”

  The pair walked over to where their camels now stood with the tour guide, and they c
ircled around the pyramids to get different angles to marvel from. Malik explained that it was believed that they were put together when rocks were brought from Aswan, some 600 miles away, over raft or makeshift boat. The rocks were carried down the Nile and removed onto makeshift sleds or rolling logs and slowly built up into the not-so-mystifying ancient wonder of today.

  “Then they just… dragged them up, block by block. Tens of thousands of workers, blah, blah, blah,” he said pithily. “Imagine the unions on that nowadays.”

  “Well, I think it’s amazing!”

  He laughed. “Well, I didn’t say they weren’t. They’re beautiful.”

  She nodded as if she’d won some non-verbal argument. “Now tell me the crazy theories.”

  “If I must,” he laughed tiredly, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Some people say the three pyramids are in the same place a couple of rocks are on Mars. Then there’s the alien theory, of course, and the story that Noah built them…”

  “As in… Noah’s ark, Noah?”

  “The very same,” he nodded; a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Some say they came from Atlantis, some say they were hills that got flooded; trying to explain away why some of the other pyramids in Egypt have crumbled away to nothing.”

  “Couldn’t possibly be time, age, or wear, or anything,” she said sarcastically.

  He held his hand to his mouth in mock surprise and began to lead her closer to the next pyramid. They watched as some young tourists went wild with their cameras, climbing up the sides of the pyramids and shouting with excitement.

  “So disrespectful,” Amie sighed.

  “They’re just having fun,” Malik shrugged, jumping in front of her to bring a smile to her face.

  She frowned. “Hey, that’s someone’s tomb”

  “Yes, and his three wives were all buried there with him.” He paused, grinning wryly. “Still feel bad for him?”

  She stared at him for a moment and laughed. “Maybe not to the same extent.”

  “No, I didn’t think so.”

  ***

  They spent hours strolling between the pyramids, talking about life and art and what it meant to be respected. After flying back to Rabayat, later that evening, the days that followed involved much of the same; Malik making appearances at various functions, always with Amie on his arm, and showing her the various areas of his homeland in their free time.

  At first, Amie was under the impression that Malik simply wanted to keep making fun of her for gushing over every area, monument, or museum they visited like the fresh-faced tourist she was. But one day, after a beautiful dinner at a romantic restaurant rounded off a day swimming in the salty waters at Malik’s family’s private beach, Amie couldn’t help but notice how much he lit up when he talked about his childhood; showing her these places that had meant so much to him growing up.

  Had he ever taken a girl to these places before, she wondered? Maybe this was as new to him as it was to her. His passion for history, art and culture was infectious. The more he spoke about the city around them, the more in love with the culture she fell. Especially when she convinced Malik to take her to his favorite place.

  “This was the statue that became the basis for the festival of Nine Nights. This monument was carved entirely out of granite by the slaves after their liberation.” Malik gestured at the statue and his eyes lit up before Amie. The statue depicted a man and a woman, both with the lower body of wild dogs. In their arms, they each held a child. “The child symbolizes that they could finally start a family line that would not be oppressed. They were free, to pursue whatever they dreamed of doing.” His eyes seemed lost, suddenly; filled with emotion.

  “Not building pyramids for two cents a day,” Amie joked, but Malik didn’t join in. “You like this one a lot, don’t you?” she said quietly.

  “I love this one,” he corrected under his breath. “I would come here as a boy and just think, wow, they were free. What do you do when you’re finally free from those who oppressed you? From what you always knew? What bravery,” he said breathlessly.

  Amie looked up at the statue but didn’t dare touch it. She smiled at Malik. “What do you mean by that?”

  “How do you break out of the mold? What do you do when you’ve been caged and someone finally lets you fly?”

  Suddenly Amie realized why Malik was so attached to the statue: he saw himself in the message. For all of his early life, his parents had raised him in the mold of the respectable boy they wanted him to be. Then, he left the Middle East, moved to the States; his cage was opened, and he went wild.

  “Mostly… I think people don’t know what to do,” she said gingerly. “It’s like, what happens when all your dreams come true? You’d better make sure you enjoy every minute of it, and be careful not to abuse the gift you’ve been given.”

  He gave her a pointed look that she couldn’t quite read. Had he caught onto her subtle lecture? Was it out of line for her to be saying anything about his life in Chicago? Suddenly she felt like she was his employee again, instead of his friend.

  Or… whatever they were.

  ELEVEN

  One morning, a couple of weeks after their conversation by the statue, Amie was enjoying some quality time with Malik, before she would head to his mother’s in the afternoon.

  Amie was an endless chatterbox over the coffee and fruit bowls that Malik had prepared. It seemed that almost every morning he was up before her, ensuring there would be a delicious breakfast waiting for the two of them. This morning she found that she couldn’t stop talking, about the day ahead, the monuments they’d seen the days prior and the reading she’d done about them before bed…

  Yet, Malik seemed farther away than she was used to. Sure, he smiled at her quips and responded with laughter in the right places, but something about him seemed… off.

  “How long will you be out with my mother today?” he asked, casually sipping his coffee.

  “Probably a couple of hours, why?” Amie smiled and set her cup down with a louder clink than she’d meant to. “You got big plans for me tonight, mister?”

  Malik stared down at the newspaper; not to read, but to fill in the crossword. “No, actually,” he breathed slowly. “I have some business to attend to today, and I probably won’t be back until after you’re asleep.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll leave the car with you. My driver will take you to my mother’s and then anywhere else you like after that.”

  She nodded slowly and spun her teaspoon in her coffee cup; careful not to let the spoon ding any of the edges. “Company business?” she prodded cautiously, hoping her tone didn’t betray the tinge of jealousy she felt.

  “That’s right,” he said simply. No explanation.

  If she didn’t know any better she would say he was angry with her. Actually, the more she thought about it, the more it felt like she was angry with him.

  She found herself growing eerily quiet after that, unable to help but wonder where he was really going. Was it for work, or pleasure? She had no right to be jealous, she knew, but she couldn’t help the sick pang that shot through her stomach as she wondered if he would be entertaining another woman for the day.

  “You don’t mind that I’m hanging out with your mom, do you?”

  “Hanging out?” Malik laughed. “No! Why, do you think I’m feeling left out?”

  She shrugged and mocked, “I don’t know, she makes a pretty mean baklava.”

  With a long sip, Malik finished the last of his coffee and set the cup in the sink. “Don’t I know it,” he teased. “Come here for a second, I want to show you something.”

  She blinked and stood from her chair to follow him, delighted as he grabbed onto her hand to lead the way. With that, it was official: she had a crush on her boss. The way he talked, moved, spoke, ate—it didn’t matter, it all sent butterflies through her stomach. She was trying her best to stay professional, but with every day and every inch of hidden affection he showed her
, she fell deeper and deeper into his charms.

  He showed her to a room at the farthest end of the hall; the home theater. It was a medium size, with eight comfortable lounge chairs set in two rows of four at the center. At the far wall was an oversized projector screen. The whole room was made to look like an old-fashioned theater. Large speakers that could be seen peeking through red velvet curtains that hung at the side of either wall.

  “What’s all this?” she asked with surprise.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes sitting on the couch just doesn’t cut it.”

  He pulled her by the hand and led her down the sloped room to where he had set up an array of pre-packaged sweet and salty snacks. On one of the center chairs was a collection of oversized pillows and a large blanket from a guest room. This must be what jumping into a pile of leaves feels like when you’re five years old, Amie thought to herself.