Secret Triplets

by Holly Rayner

  Once she got home, she begrudgingly filled a suitcase with a few pieces of clothing, including summer dresses and business clothes, remembering that Ash-Kahlbi had a desert climate. Before she could think twice about it, she packed a few sultry dresses as well, betting she and the Sheikh would have a few one-on-one, intimate dinners together throughout their journey.

  Juggling her attraction to and annoyance for Jibril was difficult. It was like a tug-of-war match was going on in her heart. But as she collapsed beneath her sheets, conscious that the exhaustion was entirely caused by him, she felt only intense annoyance.

  Especially when her alarm clock went off at three in the morning.

  A black car pulled up to Audrey’s apartment building at exactly 3:55, the sound of the engine the only noise in the quiet early morning hour. Audrey peered out the window, her fingers wrapped tightly around her suitcase handle, her knuckles white. Darting into the rain, she watched as a black-hatted driver bounded from the driver’s seat, grabbed her suitcase, and stored it in the trunk before opening the back door for her.

  Within the safety of the black vehicle, she found herself tucked beside Jibril, who wore an all-black suit and gleaming black shoes. His face showcased a five o’clock shadow that made him surprisingly hunky and gorgeous despite the impossibly early morning. Audrey swallowed sharply, hunting for words that wouldn’t make her sound foolish.

  “Hello,” Jibril said. “Are you ready for your first trip into the air?”

  “Oh,” Audrey said, her face reddening. “You remembered I’ve never flown.”

  “I remember everything,” he said. “I hope this isn’t going to be a problem for you. It’s a long flight.”

  “It won’t be,” Audrey said, sounding doubtful. “I promise.”

  The black car sped them to a private airport, where it had special clearance to take them all the way to the runway. Shocked to see a sleek black plane with the Sheikh’s name on the far back, Audrey sat up pin-straight, her blood pumping.

  “That’s your plane?” she asked.

  “You didn’t think we were going to be riding on a plane with everyone else, did you?” Jibril asked, laughing. “I like to travel in style, darling. I assumed, from our dinner the other night, you had sensed that about me already.”

  “I had. This is just—a lot to take in,” Audrey said, a small smile creeping across her face.

  The sun had begun to glimmer up over the horizon, casting a ghostly sheen over everything. Audrey lifted herself from the backseat and went to the trunk to grab her suitcase, which she wheeled toward the plane. The Sheikh grabbed his suitcase and tipped the driver, then the tires squealed as the driver left them, causing Audrey to shiver. There went her last option back to safety.

  The pilot introduced himself as Samuel, a man Jibril had met when they’d both been younger, fresh faces in San Francisco, when the Sheikh had just been starting Green Pastures, Inc.

  “I’ve flown Jibril here all over the continent, and all over the world,” Samuel said, his voice coming from between two thick lips beneath a thin, dark mustache. “We’ve gotten into the occasional scrape, of course, like those girls in Morocco. You told her about that?” Samuel asked.

  Audrey’s cheeks burned, leaving her to question if she was jealous. She laughed anxiously with the men, buckling her seat belt in the private back room of the plane. After giving a final handshake to Samuel, Jibril joined her, closing the door between the cockpit and the rest of the plane. He flashed a smile and sat in the seat opposite her, giving them both window seats.

  “I couldn’t have imagined this height of luxury,” Audrey said, conscious of how foolish she sounded but too tired to care. “But wow, Jibril, I’m anxious.”

  Jibril reached for her knee as the airplane’s engine revved beneath them. The moment he touched her, electricity shot through her back and legs, bolting out to the end of her fingers. Her breath caught in her throat, and she reached for his hand, clinging to it as it sat on top of her knee as the plane took its first jolt into the sky.

  The moment the wheels lifted from the ground, Audrey felt her stomach lift as well, tying itself into countless knots and causing her head to spin. She closed her eyes as they tilted backward, holding onto Jibril’s hands so tightly, she thought she would surely break his fingers. He made no motion to pull away.

  When the plane leveled out, lifting above the clouds, Audrey heard Jibril whisper her name softly, soothingly. Her eyes opened, and she blinked several times.

  I’m alive, she thought, vaguely shocked by the fact.

  “See, Audrey?” Jibril said, his words still soft. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? We’re in the air, and it will be just like this until we get there.”

  Audrey cleared her throat. Conscious of how hard she still clung to him, she removed her fingers one at a time before joining her hands together on her lap. “Sorry about that,” she murmured.

  Jibril snapped his fingers, unlatching his seat belt. “I think I know what will help you,” he said.

  “Probably staying buckled up will help me the most,” Audrey said, her eyes flickering toward the great, empty blue sky beside her. Was that really where they were? It seemed impossible.

  “No, no,” Jibril said. He disappeared for a few minutes, fiddling with something behind Audrey’s seat. “I know the right medicine,” he said. “It relieves tension, brings happiness, and can even—wait for it—” He handed her a large glass filled with orange juice and champagne. “Make you laugh.”

  Audrey’s mouth broke into a grin. She giggled, accepting the glass and feeling the tension in her shoulders recede. “Wow. You really are one surprise after another, aren’t you?”

  Jibril joined her with his own glass, shifting deeper into his seat. “I like to think that about myself, sure,” he said. “I made them a bit strong if you don’t mind. I figure the work doesn’t have to begin until we arrive in Ash-Kahlbi, and we might as well relax for a bit. I’m guessing you slept no more than a few hours last night at the most.”

  “I was pretty nervous,” Audrey said, already feeling the sweet juice and champagne fizz in her head. “But now I can feel it falling away.”

  After finishing her mimosa, Audrey leaned her chair back, wrapping herself in a thick blanket and falling into a deep slumber, a bit too tipsy to care that the Sheikh was watching her sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Hours later, turbulence woke Audrey, jolting her chin against her chest. She shot up, causing the blanket to fall from her small body. The Sheikh eyed her warmly, bringing his now-familiar hand to her knee, comforting her. She clung to him, making eye contact for a single moment of longing before whispering, “I can’t wait till we’re on the ground.”

  “I know,” he said. “In the meantime—”

  As he spoke, the turbulence lifted, and her heartbeat slowed. “I’ll make us another round of mimosas.” As he rose, he banged on the door of the cockpit, calling out to Samuel. “You really gave the girl a fright!” he said.

  “Sorry about that!” Samuel cried back. “We’ll keep it smooth from here on out.”

  “He can’t plan it, of course,” Jibril said, bringing Audrey her second mimosa. “But he’s never killed me before.”

  Audrey smiled at his half joke and said, teasingly, “Don’t talk like that. You’re just going to make me die of panic.”

  The plane landed a few hours later, after another round of napping and several additional moments of panicked turbulence. In the end, Audrey began to have fun with it—knowing the Sheikh would find that reason enough to place his hand over her thigh and calm her. She enjoyed the fact that he got to admire the firm legs she’d created through hours and hours of hard work at the gym. At least they’re getting some notice, she thought, her stomach simmering with desire for him.

  Once on the ground, the piercing sun dove through the airplane windows, warming Audrey’s forearms and causing the horizon to glow orange. Audrey squinted and reached for her sunglasses, remembe
ring the drizzle they’d left behind in San Francisco.

  “Is this Ash-Kahlbi or hell?” she joked, rising from her chair, her legs shaking beneath her.

  As the door unlatched from the side of the plane, however, she bit her tongue, recognizing the paradise before her. Ash-Kahlbi had a desert climate, yes, but it was also mere miles from a bay, allowing several palm trees to grow. It was akin to an oasis, with sand rising like mini-mountains in the area surrounding the flat airstrips.

  “Wow,” she said, unable to contain her excitement. “I had no idea…”

  “The world’s been waiting for you, Audrey,” the Sheikh said. He took the steep steps down the side of the plane before lifting his hand and assisting her, one heel at a time, to the pavement below. “You’ve finally arrived.”

  “And, as your personal assistant, I don’t have a single piece of information about our schedule for today,” Audrey said, knocking her head back and inhaling the hot, thick air.

  “Ah, yes,” Jibril said, raising a thin notebook from his back pocket. He passed it to her, his face growing more stoic and business-like. “I think you’ll find the complete schedule on page three. You’ll need to be part-time secretary while on this trip as well, writing down the specifics of what is discussed and agreed upon in various meetings. I’ll need you to stay on the ball.”

  “Have I ever let you down before?” Audrey asked, her eyes glittering playfully.

  “Not yet, but this is the ultimate test,” the Sheikh said. He gave a final wave to Samuel, who was refueling the plane, before passing their suitcases to a man in a golf cart who would transport them to the airport.

  Once inside the airport, Audrey stood with her chin high and her pen poised to write as she listened to Jibril flow through foreign conversation with the car rental worker, deciding on a black sports car and accepting the keys with a wink. The man seemed to recognize him, and he shook his hand profusely after the sale was complete, giving them a bottle of wine and thanking them for their service. Audrey peered at Jibril quizzically, conscious that she was with one of the biggest celebrities in all of Ash-Kahlbi.

  “Your PR here doesn’t seem to be a problem,” she said with one eyebrow raised. “That would have never happened to you in San Francisco.”

  “Yeah, well, I was born and raised here,” the Sheikh said. “When they see me, they see my father—who they love. And they don’t pay attention to the Western consciousness. They don’t know about all the models, the parties…”

  “It’s almost a good enough reason to escape here every once in a while,” Audrey said, her voice wistful.

  “That, and the weather,” the Sheikh said, giving her a warm look.

  When they got in the car, Jibril put all the windows down, offering them a gorgeous view of the surrounding oasis, with the cresting sand dunes and the glittering turquoise water in the distance. As they approached the city, the skyscrapers seemed to come organically from the sand, as if it had been built there by nature itself.

  “I can’t believe you were born here,” Audrey said, awe-struck. “It makes my childhood seem so boring.”

  “It was paradise sometimes,” Jibril said. “Although, always being under the watchful eyes of my sheikh grandfather and then my sheikh father grew difficult. Couldn’t get into many scrapes without the news of my trouble getting back to my father, as you can imagine. But beyond the skyscrapers, there’s an old part of town, which is basically ancient, nothing like what you find in America. My friends and I would scramble around in it, exploring and finding little nooks and crannies to play hide-and-seek in. When you step into the old town, you feel like you’re stepping into a storybook.”

  “Can you show me?” Audrey asked, her voice hopeful.

  “I’d love to take you right now,” the Sheikh said, laughing and looking straight ahead, his foot growing more forceful against the gas pedal. “But it seems you haven’t checked our schedule, Miss Personal Assistant.”

  “Shoot,” Audrey muttered, glancing down. Sure enough, his first meeting began in just 45 minutes. She read him the address, hunting through a phone with an international plan he’d let her borrow to find good parking nearby. “Not like parking in San Francisco,” she said, pointing toward a parking garage in the direct vicinity of the office building. “It’s almost like you’re allowed to live here.”

  “Most people don’t drive their own cars,” Jibril said, peeling into the parking garage. “They walk or ride bicycles or else have drivers. They can’t afford vehicles, and also, they don’t want them. It’s very different from the American perspective.”

  “Sounds nice, actually,” Audrey replied.

  They bounded from the car, entering the office building and then diving into several hours of fast-paced business meetings. Audrey kept diligent notes, her ears perked up and her fingers constantly scribbling across the page. She was impressed with the way the Sheikh handled himself in meetings, alternating between English and Arabic and convincing several people to buy stock in his San Francisco-based company and to purchase properties in the Bay Area—a place, he said, that was “oozing with opportunity.”

  When the final client shook the Sheikh’s hand and left the office, Audrey gazed at him, a smile spreading across her lips. Jibril’s dark eyebrows rose high, questioning.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Just impressed, is all. I don’t think I’ve thought much of you beyond your button-down shirts and ex-girlfriend’s dog in days,” she teased.

  “You didn’t think I did much more than boss you around?” he asked, joking.

  “It seemed like the only thing you did for a while,” she said.

  “Well, your time’s not up yet, missy,” he said, rising from his chair. “Grab your notebook. We have an entire afternoon at our disposal, and we’re not going to waste it. It’s against everything I stand for.”

  Curious, Audrey darted after him, standing mere inches from him in the elevator and sensing that their fingers were millimeters from touching. Memory of their time on the plane filled her with another burst of affection and attraction, something she had to constantly try to stamp out.

  Chapter Nine

  Once outside, Jibril told her they’d be leaving the car behind for a while and proceeding on foot. “We’re going to dive into the depths of this city,” he said, rubbing his palms together conspiratorially. “Enough of these skyscrapers. Enough of these business meetings. It’s time for the grittiness of Ash-Kahlbi to be revealed.”

  Audrey followed him down the street, walking in the dramatic shadows of the skyscrapers. Stuffing the notebook into her purse, she felt her heart humming with apprehension and excitement. This was it. She was finally seeing the world.

  Ducking into a dark alleyway, the Sheikh led her down first one passageway and then another, darting left and right. The alleys went behind restaurants, and the air held the aroma of falafel and shawarma and melting cheese. Anxious and suddenly hungry, Audrey reached up and grabbed the Sheikh’s shirt, getting his attention.

  “Mind if we get something to eat before we keep walking?” she asked, her voice soft. “Everything smells absolutely delicious.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, grinning. He bolted left and then knocked his fist against an alleyway door, crying out, “Ammar! Hey, Ammar!”

  A man appeared in the crack of the doorway, looking surprised, his cheeks red from the heat of the kitchen. At the sight of Jibril, he formed an elated smile, wrapping his jiggling, fatty arms around the Sheikh and crying out his name. “JIBRIL!” He spoke quickly in Arabic, his hands gesturing wildly.

  “Calm down, Ammar,” Jibril said, laughing hard, placing his hand on his abdomen. “I’m sorry to scare you like this. I’m here with my—my friend”—he pointed toward Audrey, who grinned sheepishly—“and we were wondering if we could have some of your world-famous falafel sandwiches. To go, please.”

  Ammar’s face was nearly consumed with his massive grin. He clapped a few times
and then bellowed, “Anything for you, old friend!” Then he headed back into the kitchen, keeping the back door ajar.

  “Are you in the habit of knocking on restaurant back doors and demanding meals?” Audrey asked Jibril, giggling.

  “I’ve known him since we were kids,” Jibril said. “We used to wander these streets together, picking up scraps from restaurants, just whatever they had around. They knew my father was important, but they let us have our fun. Now I always like to come and pester him this way. It’s a nice way to keep the memories of our childhood alive.”

  “That’s beautiful,” Audrey said.

  Ammar appeared in the hallway, clinging to two steaming meals: falafel wrapped in pita bread and slathered in white and red sauces. “Here you are, pretty lady,” he said to Audrey, passing her a sandwich. “And for you, old friend.”

  “Let me pay you this time,” Jibril said firmly.

  “You know your money’s no good here. I don’t care if it’s from San Francisco or Los Angeles or New York. It holds no weight,” Ammar said. “We’ve been through too much. And besides, I want to show good hospitality to the lady.”

  “I want to pay you, too,” Audrey said, laughing.

  “Well, too bad. I’m sorry to burst your bubble,” Ammar said. “If you want to pay, you come in through the front, like a normal person. As it is, you’ll now be on your way. Explore, Jibril! Live the life you gave up on!” He gestured forth, toward the winding roads and alleyways. “Are you showing her the—”

  “Of course,” Jibril said, cutting him off. “But I want it to be a surprise.”

  Audrey eyed them both suspiciously before taking a small, tentative bite of the warm falafel. The tender, nutty flavor coated her tongue, warming her grumbling stomach and giving her new energy. Ammar watched the change unfold, his eyes showing his delight.

  “She likes it.”