ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance (12 page)

BOOK: ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance
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For the first time in his life, he’d never felt so lost and alone.


All Maggie could do was sit as she watched her life fall apart around her, and all without her even having to lift a finger. How could she have ever been so stupid as to get involved with that… person? He wasn’t even a man!

In all her life she’d never been more devastated by someone’s treatment of her, and as a larger woman, she’d had to endure quite a bit in her life. Like an idiot she’d believed him. She let herself get caught up in the promise and the joy of it all, only to have it crash down on her. One day. He couldn’t even have gone a single day with her gone before going right back to it. It was like she hadn’t even existed. Nothing had ever made her feel more useless, stupid, or unwanted in her life. He’d had her, and now he had to have two women just to, what? To get the taste out of his mouth, or something?

He kept calling her, and calling her, like that would fix anything. Women, drugs, drinking, it was clear the life he wanted. She didn’t fit in with that. What was there to say, really? She wasn’t about to be the type of woman to nag her man about his lifestyle. Let him live like that, let him have his parties and late nights. It was best he just did it away from her.

That became doubly true when she found out she was pregnant. There was no question in her mind about if it was his or not. She hadn’t been with anyone in two years before him, and she sure couldn’t bring herself to be with anyone else after that either. She debated telling him, but really, what good would it do? If he wasn’t going to change his life for her, he sure wouldn’t do it for a baby. Besides, even if he did, he’d just grow to resent her or – God forbid – their child for having to slow down his crazy party life. The thought of it all was just too painful.

When she went to her boss to ask that she no longer be asked to work with Bryan, her boss fired her. Right then and there. No questions, no why, no wanting to know more. She just railed at her saying it was unprofessional and that she couldn’t just pick and choose what work she did. She wasn’t even an actual agent, she was an assistant. That meant she had no leverage.

Trying to find a job after that was a ridiculous nightmare since her boss wasted no time at all tarnishing any sort of a reputation Maggie had built up for herself. Branded unprofessional, whiny, and lazy, no one wanted anything to do with her. It had been right at the end of the month, too, and when she couldn’t produce rent, her boss gave her 30 days to pay or get out. No job, no possibilities, she had no choice but to pack up. After their little blowout after Bryan, since apparently she’d had a crush on him for years, she and Stacy made up.

With nowhere to go, Stacy let her stay with her until she got things figured out. The idea of figuring things out, though, seemed by far the most impossible thing she could’ve tried to do.

It’d been a month when Bryan received a call from Stacy. Her number was still in his phone, which surprised him as much as seeing it pop up on his phone. He honestly couldn’t remember why he’d saved it. Had he anticipated needing to talk to her frequently?

When he answered it, the tone in Stacy’s voice when she said, “Can you talk?” let him know this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

He’d been worried that she was going to go on and confess her love for him now that Maggie was out of the way, but it was so much worse. Stacy told him everything, about Maggie losing her job, the baby, and that she was staying with her now.

Bryan nearly lost his mind. So much so that he got her address from her, and got on the next plane out, abandoning the game that night. It was technically a breach of contract or something, he was pretty sure, but he couldn’t have cared less.

When he knocked on Stacy’s door, the look on Maggie’s face when she opened it was worth everything. She was quick to hide it, though. “What are you doing here?”

“Stacy told me. Everything.”

Maggie closed her eyes and took a breath. “Which must be why she left the house suddenly. Because she knew I’d kill her.”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Look, if that’s the only reason you’re here, you wasted your time.”

Bryan stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s not. I came back for you. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

She looked up at him, and he could see the hurt in her eyes. Still, she didn’t try to remove his hands from her shoulders. “It seemed like you were real comfortable without me when I found you.”

“Okay, look, if you’re going to come live with me and be mine, you have to learn to talk to me when you have a problem, instead of disappearing on me. That wasn’t my party. My team brought it to my room. Yes, I was partying with them. I was happy because I’d found you, and we’d just won a game. No, I was not with those women. That was a matter of insanely bad timing.”

“How can I believe you’re not lying to me right now?”

“Because I’m not.”

Her eyes softened as she recognized those words and the tone in his voice, and he knew she did believe him. Then, suddenly her entire expression shifted, and her head snapped back for a moment. “Wait, did you say come and live with you?”

“What?” he asked. “Did you think I’d let the unemployed mother of my child live in squalor like this?”

That was when a very familiar tone of voice said from behind him, “Squalor?”

He and Maggie laughed, but Stacy stood there holding two cartons of ice-cream.

“Oh no, we’re talking about this,” she said.

“I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night,” Bryan said.

Maggie rested her head against his chest and sighed. All at once, that feeling returned of everything being right.

He’d never let her go again.

THE END

Billionaire Biker

Aimee walked down the line of tables in the diner she worked, a half-filled pot of coffee in either hand. One handle was black, the other orange. She smiled to each group of people at the tables, offering to refill any coffee cups she found.

She was well known in this place, and people were always happy when she came around. Big smiles, big hellos. It didn’t surprise her. She’d gotten used to such welcomes after having worked in this place for so long.

She grew up in this small town. Hah! Town. If one could call it that. It was a pit-stop on this particular stretch of highway. They had a grocery store, and a mechanic, and a bank, in addition to a few other things, but that was about it. There were RV hookups and mobile home parks around the area off a few side streets, but that was about it. Everyone in this place knew one another. It was like a shared nightmare, and one that Aimee knew from very early on that she’d never escape from it.

The smile on her face was plastic, the grit from the desert outside stuck to her teeth. Every time she closed her mouth, she crunched on small flecks of dirt from the air. After helping all of those that she could, she replaced the coffee pots back on their burners and picked up her water that she kept under the counter. A quick sip washed the grit from her mouth. The cool water quenched her throat, the cold washing down and splashing into her stomach, spreading out for a moment. It was so hot that the sensation was fleeting at best.

A car pulled in. It was nice, black, a sedan. The rims damn near sparkled. It was a city car if she ever saw one. The city wasn’t more than fifty miles away, but for Aimee, it may as well have been five-thousand. She’d never been in her life, and didn’t suspect she’d ever get the chance to. She’d been born in this armpit of a town, and as far as she was concerned, she was going to die here. She put on that plastic smile again and grabbed up a few menus.

“Two of you?” she asked the couple.

The man and woman smiled at her, the man holding up two fingers to confirm her guess. She held the smile as she guided them to a table.

Going through the specials were rote. They never changed. There was nothing special about the specials. The roar of a motorcycle pulled her eyes up almost against her will. The beast of a machine billowed black smoke like something out of a hellish novel. Riding atop was the very picture of manly beauty. She’d never had the reaction physically that he gave her. Just looking at him made her heart beat, her head swim, her stomach tighten up.

She verbally stumbled over the specials as her mind struggled to stay on topic. On a though — any thought! Aimee closed her eyes and shook her head for a second to try and get a clear hold on her thoughts.

The woman at the table made a disgusted rasping noise in the back of her throat. “I hate those things. Nothing but noise pollution.”

“And actual pollution, look at that thing. That can’t be legal.”

Aimee swallowed, trying to regain some semblance of conscious thought, and she pointed across the street with the tip of her pencil. “He’s pulling into the mechanic’s place. Must be something wrong with it.”

“Well what’s wrong with it is that it’s a motorcycle.”

The man laughed. “No fixing that.”

“No there is not.”

Aimee blew right by the conversation altogether, knowing that she couldn’t believably agree, and disagreeing with them would mess with her tip. “So can I start you off with something to drink?”

About twenty to thirty minutes went by. The snobby couple had eaten and left. Aimee was back to her water, now a fresh cup, and sipping it gratefully. The leather clad Greek god left the mechanic’s and stopped on the sidewalk. He looked up the street one way, then back down the other.

“No, don’t come in here,” she said to him, knowing full well no one could hear her. The diner was empty, and she was the only waitress working. If she had to talk to him…

He smacked his thigh with his skullcap then looked forward at the diner.

“No,” she breathed. Then, as he crossed the street toward her, she just kept repeating, “No, no, no, no, no, hi there! One today?”

He wrinkled his nose and looked around, taking in his surroundings before answering her. It was clear from the look on his face that he was less than pleased.

“Yeah, one,” he said absently.

When his eyes finally landed on her he stopped and smiled. “Just me,” he added, as though that were necessary.

Was he looking at her? Like, was he really looking at her? Even just the threat of the possibility made her giggle and she had to hide it by picking up a menu and walking ahead of him.

Aimee was a larger girl, always had been. It wasn’t something that bothered her. It’s how she was made. Besides, in this middle of this desert there really weren’t many options for jazzercising. To have someone as gorgeous as Mr. Motorcycle even look twice at her was the highlight of her day. Hell, her week.

After giving him the rundown on the specials, he ordered pie and a coffee. Even though she should’ve left him to eat after dropping off the pie, she couldn’t just let him go that easily. She was never going to see him again, that much was obvious. She’d be damned if she’d just let him walk out of there.

“Saw you pull up,” she said. “Your bike was spewing quite the cloud there.”

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “Blew something a few miles back. Just riding along, then
bang
! I think the mechanic is trying to weasel a bunch of money out of me, but I don’t care. As long as he gets it fixed.”

“Jimmy? Oh, no, he’s no weasel. We don’t get a lot of repeat business around here, as you might imagine, which makes his reputation even more important.” She laughed. “He’s probably the most honest person in town.”

Mr. Motorcycle smiled up at her as he sipped his coffee. “That right?” “Well,” she said bashfully, but couldn’t think of anything to say as a follow-up. Suddenly she realized she had no idea what to say next, and the embarrassment was mounting by the half-second.

“Enjoy your pie,” she said in an attempt to escape the horror of what she’d just done to herself, but he reached out and stopped her.

All he did was place his index and middle fingers on her wrist, but just his touch was enough to stop her dead in her tracks.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She smiled at him, and there wasn’t an ounce of plastic in it. “Aimee,” she said. “It’s on the nametag.”

“I know,” he said, “I saw. I just wanted to hear you say it. I’m Xavier.”

“Wow,” she whispered, then laughed and shook her head. “I mean, that’s cool.”

“It was nice meeting you, Aimee. Fate, maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said, bashfully tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.

Turning, she walked back to the kitchens to hide her face. She touched her fingers to her cheeks and felt the heat despite the ovens and stoves going off back there.

What just happened?

Xavier shuffled papers around on his desk. It was an idle motion and one he had no thought or emotion in. These papers could all just go up in flames for all he cared. He had a business to run, but all he could think about was the adorable waitress from that café.

Everything about her made him feel alive. He was no stranger to women and the effects they have on a man. Hell, he’d been in plenty of relationships before. Some long, some short. Some really short. Never, though, had a woman made him feel quite like this. It had been such a short conversation with her, but talking to her, hearing her voice, it had made everything settle inside of him.

BOOK: ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance
11.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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