The Sheikh's Borrowed Baby: The Sheikh's Borrowed Baby, #1

By Holly Rayner

He needed a baby to close a business deal,
But Sheikh Karim is about to get way more than he bargained for…

Karim Al-Ahsan has a problem; he's caught in a lie, having told an old-fashioned business partner that he's a family man, with a wife and baby of his own. Now with little option other than to find and hire a mother and son to portray his family, Karim searches for the perfect candidates to prove that he's a man of integrity…

Hallie Jameson is a single mom, working double-shifts to make ends meet. When a charismatic stranger saunters into her life, offering her an enormous check for just one evening of her and her son's time, she's powerless to resist. Swept away for a weekend of luxury, and a brief taste of how the other half live, this Philadelphia nurse soon realizes that she doesn't want the fantasy to end.

As Karim falls deeper into his lie—and as Hallie falls ever deeper for her fake husband—it soon becomes clear that neither party will walk away unscathed. Can Karim figure out that this little family isn't just a prop in his spun fiction, but a warm and precious treasure, that'll finally make him whole?

This is the first book in The Sheikh's Borrowed Baby series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Holly Rayner Romance
• Release date: Mar 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201464820

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

How could anything possibly go wrong?

It was mid-June, and the Philadelphia weather couldn’t have been more perfect. The summer sun was easing across a peaceful, powder-blue sky, bringing with it the slightest hint of a sea breeze drifting in from the Delaware River. Every tree in the surrounding residential areas had cooperated by blossoming with tender green leaves, which had then invited rock pigeons and turtle doves to coo among them.

Indeed, the day felt so full of vim and vigor, of pep-to-your-step and chin-in-the-air attitude, that surely, nothing could possibly go wrong.

Unless you happened to be Hallie Jameson. Not only had she been born under an evil star (according to her own calculations), but the bad cosmic energy had followed her, directing all the events of her life. This star, Hallie thought, took particular pleasure in those whose fates could be turned for the worse.

Feeling caught between pessimism and optimism that afternoon, as she walked home from the parking lot where she usually left her car after work, Hallie couldn’t help making a mental list of her woes.

Take the tricycle accident that had happened at the very impressionable age of four. Who else could have ridden down a perfectly empty driveway, only to hit a nonexistent boulder and tip completely upside down? Lots of blood and tears later, the toy had mysteriously disappeared.

She had recovered. She had gone on. Her progression to the bicycle, and its aftermath, was a story still told and laughed at in the family. An innocent trial run, a tree that had surely hopped from a side lawn to the center of her sidewalk… She’d been doomed before she’d even clambered onto the wobbly contraption.

From then on, Hallie had decided that nothing fewer than four wheels would do for her.

Hey, Hallie, how’s life?

She raised her attention from the curb at her feet.

Oh, hello, Mrs. Gilmore.

Beautiful day, isn’t it?

Sure, if you like that sort of thing.

The stout, gray-haired neighbor, out sweeping the front step of her apartment, laughed and shook a friendly finger.

Oh, you. Always joking.

That’s me—a laugh a minute.

On your way home from the hospital, eh? Things were busy today?

Hallie paused, lifting one hand to shade her eyes against the dappled sunshine.

Oh, you know, the usual…a couple cases of flu, minor fender-bender, somebody’s complaint of stomach problems after their alien abduction. You doing okay?

Me? Oh, honey, I’m fine as frog’s hair. You take care, now.

I will, thanks. See you later, Mrs. G.

A rogue breeze swirled through, tugging at a lock of Hallie’s shoulder-length chestnut hair as she crossed the street toward home. Her ruminations, still somewhat morose, continued.

The embarrassing (and painful) fall from the top of the cheerleading heap during high school days that had resulted in a broken ankle and several weeks spent wearing a boot. The low mark on a chemistry test that had dropped her grade point average just enough to prevent her from being named salutatorian of the graduating class, which had in turn prevented her from receiving the college scholarship for which she had applied. Quite a disappointing chain of events there, all in one fell swoop, since her future had been so directly affected.

Most recently, the evil star had sent her a gorgeous, charming boyfriend who had swept her off her feet, left her pregnant after just a few weeks of dating, and then conveniently disappeared from her life, just when she’d needed his presence and support the most.

Lost in that thought, Hallie barely noticed she’d arrived at her front door, one in an endless row of apartments in brick buildings in this up-and-coming area of town. Not much in the way of scenery, to be sure. But a nice block-sized square of park right across the street, with plenty of green grass, a well-maintained playground, and mature trees to inform her of the change in seasons.

Watch out!

The warning shout from somewhere above and to the left was followed almost immediately by a crash, only inches away from where Hallie was standing, and a great flurry of dust and debris.

Miss, I’m so sorry! Holy Toledo! Are you okay?

After a hearty coughing fit—and a cautious glance around to ensure she was still standing on the same plane of earth—Hallie managed to squint toward the roof. A middle-aged man, dressed in working clothes and a bright yellow hard hat which sat on top of a worried face, was peering down at her.

What was that? she cried, partly in outrage, and partly in relief that she wasn’t lying flat on the ground, crushed under construction detritus.

Are you trying to kill me?

No, ma’am. Our insurance company frowns on killin’ any passersby. We’re replacing the gutter work up here and some pieces of it got away. Believe me, I’m really sorry.

I should hope so!

Once more, she glanced up, this time more focused on frowning at that devilish star that continued to plague her.

Reason returned as she fitted her key into the lock.

All right, all right. Maybe she had also been blessed with a guardian angel, working the other side of the coin.

Because every untimely event, with all its negatives, certainly came with