by Holly Rayner
The ranch, which came with a sprawling two-story cabin and a half-mile trail around a pond, was taken care of by a retired woman who lived down the street. Not only did she keep the dust clear from the house, but Rachel had also enlisted her grown sons in order to care for the horses.
At a suggestion from his mother a few months ago, Kane had also asked Rachel to start bringing in kids from the surrounding area who could use a little time communing with nature and the saddle. Crystal Clear was far from a big community center that promised enlightening experiences, but there were half a dozen preteens who came regularly to ride.
It was good for the horses, and it was good for the kids.
And it was good for Kane. Getting a text from Rachel showing a little girl who’d previously been terrified of horses trotting the big mare Opal around made his chest swell with pride.
Stopping at the closest corral, Kane rested his boot on a piece of wood and watched as Tim, Rachel’s son, coached a boy on walking Bonnie V, a horse so gentle not even an avalanche could probably get her to flick her ears.
“Feels weird to see you out here,” someone said from behind him.
Kane’s lips curved into a smirk. Trick Waters, his closest friend since high school, took his spot next to Kane on the fence.
“Yeah, well, my whole life feels weird, now. What’s new?”
Trick paused for a long time. “Part of that’s your own doing, don’t you think?”
The statement wasn’t meant to be unkind. Always matter-of-fact, Trick didn’t have an unkind bone in his body. Unlike Kane, who could be quick both to anger and act, Trick took his time deliberating and almost always found a way to do right both by himself and other people.
Knowing he could trust the man with anything, Kane had called Trick up that morning and told him all about the disaster with Leyla. Like he had many times before when things got hairy, Trick suggested a morning at the ranch.
Unlike the last few times the suggestion had come up, this time, Kane bit. He hadn’t taken a morning off since he couldn’t remember when, and maybe, if he was lucky, ClayFuel wouldn’t fall to pieces with him gone.
“Or maybe I’m talking to a wall,” Trick said.
With a guffaw, Kane pushed off from the fence and strode toward the stables. If they were going to talk, they could at least ride while they did so.
“I went about it the wrong way,” he decided a few minutes later, as they finished tacking up their horses.
“Okay,” Trick answered, completely placid.
Heat rose up Kane’s chest, and his nostrils flared with an exhale. “It was a million dollars. Who wouldn’t want a million dollars?”
Swinging into the saddle, Trick gave him a side-eye.
“Sorry.” He clamped his jaw shut. Damn. He sounded like a spoiled rich kid.
Which was exactly what he didn’t want to be. The tabloids had painted him as exactly that for years, based on his habits. One of his biggest goals was turning that image around, but it wouldn’t be easy.
Especially if he said dumb things like that last comment.
“You really think she didn’t know about her family?” Trick led the way to the trail curving around the pond.
“No. You should have seen her face when I told her.”
The memory of it made his breath catch in his chest. Leyla had looked like she’d seen a ghost.
He hated to have been the one to do that to her. In all honesty, he’d expected her to know about her family. If her mom had left that lavish life behind to work and scrounge at minimum wage jobs while raising a kid all on her own, there had to be a big reason for it.
Stupid him—he’d expected Leyla had been privy to that information.
Apparently not.
“What would you have done differently?” Kane asked. He kept his face down, eyes on the trail right in front of his favorite horse, Big Jim.
“I can’t answer that. This is where you and I are real different.”
True.
The two had been friends since they were teens. Even though they hadn’t attended the same high school, they’d met on a county rodeo team. Trick had been just the person Kane didn’t know he needed. His parents were kind, humble folks, and Trick lived for the simple things in life.
Kane sometimes envied him for that.
Trick was a mechanic who rode on the weekends for fun and favored serious, long-term relationships over the flings that had populated Kane’s life for years. He was the kind of guy who, although he would probably gladly accept a million dollars, wouldn’t do anything for it that he felt would compromise his morals.
Like agree to a fake marriage.
“It was a dumb plan.” Kane shook his head bitterly.
“Eh. Who knows? Maybe not?”
Kane looked sharply at him, surprised. “You’re kidding me. You said—”
“Yeah, I know. I said earlier that it was crazy. But who am I to say? It could be the only problem was introducing it at the wrong time.”
“I don’t have time to spare.” Realizing his grip had tightened on Big Jim’s reins, Kane slackened his hold. “The deal with Sharrain needs to happen yesterday.”
“Why?”
Cotton filled Kane’s mouth. “Because,” he rasped, “it’s what my dad would have wanted.”
“Don’t you think he would have wanted you to be happy and not stress out about things that are out of your control?” Trick asked.
He didn’t know what to say to that.
Yes? Probably?
But ClayFuel had been so important to his dad. The only other thing that had mattered to him was his family. And Kane had spent years disrespecting both, first by refusing to take on a position in the company and then by soiling his family’s name in the tabloids.
Even though his dad was gone, Kane had to make things right. Somehow.
Halfway around the loop, they veered off the trail and headed through a thicket. The horses lifted their heads, knowing and eager.
At the river, the gentle beasts ambled into the shade, happy to be in a cooler area. Sliding out of the saddle, Kane found a smooth, thin rock on the ground and flicked it across the water.
It skipped twice before sinking. Hardly a second later, and another rock followed it, this one skipping five times.
“I won.” Trick laughed.
Kane playfully punched him in the shoulder.
“What now?” Trick asked. “You gon’ call Leyla up?”
With a sigh, Kane rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s probably not the best idea. She’s still working for ClayFuel, no matter what. I doubt she’d accept my offer even if I gave her two million.”
“I’m not talking about the deal. You like her, right?”
Kane tensed. “Why would you say that?”
“Kane, man, you’re amazing at a lot of things…” Trick scrunched up his face and stared across the water. “But sometimes, you’re not that self-aware.”
“I’m not dating right now.”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Because I don’t have time,” Kane countered.
Quick on the draw, Trick answered. “You had time to go out with her twice.”
“I…” He worked his jaw around, at a loss for words. “That was business.”
“It’s all about how you prioritize things.”
“I have my priorities in order.” Kane stiffened. This wasn’t a subject up for debate.
“What if you could start over?” Crouching down, Trick sorted through a few more rocks. “What if you hadn’t asked Leyla to…” He chuckled a bit. “Sorry. Fake marry you?”
Kane shook his head. “Then she would still be shooting the ads, and I’d see her at events for the company.”
“And you’d never ask her out?”
Taking off his hat, Kane ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. No. I mean, okay. Yeah.”
“Well.” Trick shrugged.
“You’re not suggesting I ask her out for real.”
Kane’s laugh was dry. “I’m pretty sure she hates me.”
And if he had any doubt, all he needed do was remember the look on her face when she’d left the restaurant the night before.
Leyla was done with him. It didn’t matter what he wanted. He’d messed up both the chance at a successful business move and a successful romantic move. Now, he had to live with it.
Chapter 9
Leyla
Sitting on the couch with her bed’s comforter wrapped around her, Leyla stared at her laptop. Closed on the coffee table, it had drawn her attention all morning.
And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to open it up.
The conversation from the night before played on repeat in her mind. She didn’t know which was more shocking: Kane’s marriage proposal—if you could call it that—or his belief that her mom had been a cousin to a king.
It was more than a belief, though, wasn’t it? Kane had claimed he had a private investigator look into the matter. And why would he lie to her about her royal connections?
As he’d proven at the barbecue restaurant, nothing was more important to him than ClayFuel’s acquisitions. He’d only been interested in her so much as she could help him there.
Scrubbing her hand over her face, she sighed and headed to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. The night had been a mostly sleepless one, and she seriously doubted her ability to run her errands and record a due voiceover audition without the help of ample amounts of caffeine.
Filling up a mug, she trudged back to the living room. Time to bite the bullet. If she didn’t, she would probably regret not doing it sooner.
Settling back onto the couch, she opened up her laptop and did a quick google search on Sharrain’s royal family. If she kept her fingers typing quick enough, there’d be no opportunity to second-guess herself.
Truth was, she’d spent so much time in the dark regarding her mom’s prior life that she wasn’t sure she could handle a bulk of information at once. Ever since Kane’s revelation, the questions that had always floated around had started snowballing.
Being the cousin of a king sounded great. You weren’t the center of attention, but surely you got to enjoy some of the perks of royal life.
And what about money? Leyla’s mom had none of that when she’d immigrated.
By the time Maira died, she’d owned a house, a little brick ranch-style one right outside of the city. It belonged to Leyla now and currently sat empty.
Living there wasn’t an option. There were too many memories, and when Leyla put her head down at night to sleep, she needed a break from those.
As soon as she got the reserves up, she would go and clear the place out, put her mom’s things in storage, and rent out the home. God knew she could use the money.
Holding her breath, she clicked on a picture of Sharrain’s royal family, dated just a week ago. “King Mabrouk and his sister Maryum attend the annual Iris Gala,” the caption said.
Leyla tried to exhale but choked on her own breath. There was nothing notable about the king, who was a leathery-skinned man with a big smile. But his sister, Maryum…
All it would take for Leyla to think it was her mom in the picture would be a slight squinting of the eyes. They looked that much alike.
Her heartbeat steadily picking up speed, she clicked around the internet some more. A page on the history of the Sharrain royal family tree provided the last piece of the puzzle.
King Mabrouk and his sister Maryum had several first cousins, and one of them was named Maira Al-Adain.
“Oh my goodness,” Leyla whispered.
Could this really be happening?
She searched around some more, desperation growing as she hunted for more information on Maira Al-Adain, first cousin to King Mabrouk. There was a note from about thirty-two years ago about Maira attending an event with Maryum, and along with it a photo.
At the sight of it, Leyla thought she would pass out. She’d never seen a picture of her mother so young, but this was her. No doubt about it. Smiling at the camera in a long-skirted dress, she looked strikingly like her cousin.
And like her daughter.
A knock on the door made Leyla jerk and nearly drop the computer.
“It’s me,” London called through the door. “I just got back from work. Wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
The clock above the TV revealed it was already three. And there Leyla was, lost in time, thinking it was still morning.
Leaving the computer on the couch, she went to open the door. At the sight of her, London’s eyebrows went up.
“What’s wrong? Did something else happen?” She bypassed Leyla and put a plastic bag on the kitchen counter. “I brought Mexican food. I figured you might not have eaten yet.”
Closing the door, Leyla turned to her reflection in the mirror. Heavy bags hung under her eyes.
“I was doing research.” She touched her puffy face.
London’s eyes lit up. “I did some, too.”
“Did you see what I did?” She’d told London everything the night before.
Folding her arms, London nodded in excitement. “Maira really was the cousin of a king.”
With no warning, Leyla’s legs went weak. She barely made it to the couch.
“I can’t process this.” Dropping her head back, she stared at the popcorn ceiling.
London dropped down on the cushion next to her. “What I don’t get is why she hid this from you. And why she left in the first place. Did Kane’s detective find anything about that?”
“No,” Leyla whispered.
“Maybe she wanted you to have a normal life. You know, not grow up with a spotlight on you. And that must have been impossible in Sharrain. The place is so small.”
“Maybe.” That did sound like her mom.
“Have you talked to Kane at all?”
“No.” Her face burned. She had another ClayFuel shoot in about a month, and hopefully, he wouldn’t show up to it.
Or fire her from it.
Usually, she would be embarrassed about getting so emotional in front of someone, but everything that had happened was his doing. He’d sprung the biggest news of her life on her and asked her to marry him for a payout. And all in about five minutes.
“I think you should do it,” London said.
“You have to be kidding me.” She stared at her friend.
London didn’t even blink. “It’s a million dollars. You can use that to, oh, I dunno… make a movie!”
Leyla crossed her arms. “I have another plan. Mom’s house is in a good neighborhood. She completely paid the mortgage off. Once I start renting that out, I’ll have extra money to save.”
“Yeah, and how long will that take you? Don’t you need at least a quarter-million? By my calculations, you’ll never make that from renting that place out. Kane is offering more than that to you, and now. You could dream even bigger with that kind of cash. Maybe get a name actor in your movie or something.”
Leyla looked at her lap. The argument was convincing, but there was so much to consider.
“Kane said that we would have to keep up the facade of marriage. I wouldn’t be able to date anyone else. What if I meet someone one day?”
“Hm.” London’s lips twisted. “Okay. There is that to consider. Would you guys have to stay married for the rest of your lives?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t get that far in the conversation.”
“Okay. Why not see?”
Leyla caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “I dunno…”
After the way they’d left things the night before, would Kane’s offer even still be on the table?
“Ask,” London urged. “Don’t you think this whole thing is fortuitous? You’re not only getting a chance to make the money you need, but think about the connections. Maybe Kane could introduce you to King Mabrouk.”
Leyla’s heart jumped at that. It was a possibility she hadn’t even considered. Mabrouk had known Maira their whole lives bef
ore she’d left Sharrain. If anyone could fill in the missing pieces for Leyla, it was him.
“Okay.” Sitting up straighter, she nodded.
“Awesome.” London patted her knee. “Where’s your phone?”
“Now?”
“Yeah. You have his number, right?”
“Y—yes.”
London arched a brow. “No better time like the present.”
Leyla nodded and went to her bedroom to get her phone. Settling back on the couch with her friend, she stared at the phone in her hand. Each second that passed made it harder to make the call.
“I’ll do it for you,” London offered.
“No. It’s okay. Thanks.”
Before she could overthink it, she made the call.
“Leyla.” Kane’s deep baritone made her feel all kinds of things. Giddy. Ashamed. Angry.
Closing her eyes, she pushed every last emotion down. This was about the money.
“Kane.” She cleared her throat. “I, um, I need to apologize for the way I left things last night.”
“There’s no need. It was entirely my fault. There could have been better ways for me to present that information. I definitely dropped a bomb on you. Well, two, actually, it seems. My apologies.”
“Really?” This completely surprised her. His being apologetic wasn’t something she’d expected.
“Yes. There are excuses I could come up with, but the truth is that I made a mistake.”
Leyla put her palm against her forehead, reeling from his admission. “Wow. Um, thank you.”
“I’m surprised to hear from you. I would have thought that after last night you’d want nothing to do with me ever again.”
“About that…”
He was quiet.
“I’ve been thinking about your offer,” she said, “and as long as it’s still on the table, I think I might want to go for it.”
Another long silence. Leyla cringed. On the other side of the couch, London raised her eyebrows, silently asking what was going on.
“It’s very much still on the table,” he said. “Can I ask what caused the change of heart?”
How much did she want to tell him? They barely knew each other, and being completely transparent didn’t seem like a good idea.
