Page 2 of Sheikh’s New Year's Baby Surprise

Kasim waited less than a minute before he was on his feet following his sister. He needed to prove to his sister that this woman, her so called friend, was another viper out to get her hands on his wealth.

* * *

Ow! My head hurts worse than a skinned possum.That thought brought Charla Montgomery wide awake, yet her green eyes remained closed as she tried to work out where in the hell she was and how she got there. She knew it wasn’t her bed because it was too damn small and the sheets were scratchier than a pissed off alley cat. She stilled, using all of her senses but sight to figure it out. “What is that blasted beepin’?”

Of course no one answered. Because I’m obviously somewhere I shouldn’t be. Charla groaned. Those days were behind her. Now she was a successful businesswoman who drank just enough to unwind after a long day of work. Not a hick from Alabama who got sloppy drunk and hooked up with inappropriate men. Yep, that’s me. The perfect picture of suitability.

Charla smiled, sucking in a disinfectant infused breath and blowing it out as she slowly peeled her eyes open. To her left was the source of the beeping, some machine to monitor her heart or her pulse. Half opened blinds revealed it to be late afternoon and two empty chairs revealed she was alone. No surprise there. She’d been alone for years and it was no surprise. But she had made a few friends she thought might care if she was hospitalized. She groaned as she tried to sit up, feeling around for that little remote patients always had on TV. “Oh yeah,” she said as the bed lifted her to a sitting position, much better to scan the empty room for clues.

She thought maybe she should call up a nurse or someone else to let them know she was awake, but the sound of harsh but hushed whispers stopped her.

“What do you know about this woman anyway? She probably wants you to give her some money for some fake operation or mystery illness.”

“You are being a dick Kasim! She is my friend and I’m her emergency contact, not that you deserve an answer.” She recognized the almost British but more cultured accent and the outrage as belonging to her good friend Rabiya. And she knew Kasim was her brother, but only because her friend had rambled on and on about the man for weeks now. An attempt at matchmaking Charla assumed.

“What kind of woman puts a twenty one year old as her emergency contact? Give me her full name so I can have Cristo run a check on her.”

“I’ll do no such thing, and if you can’t be nice then go the hell away!”

Charla smiled, happy Rabi was finally standing up to her bossy, overprotective brother. She closed her eyes, trying hard not to listen to the argument as it continued. On and on and on. “For the love of all that’s holy, shut up! Ya’ll are the worst whisperers the good Lord ever created, no one in the whole hall is sleeping with all that yammerin’!”

Both voices stopped and Rabiya’s head appeared between the doors. “Sorry.” Her cheeks flushed adorably but concern was etched into her beautiful face. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got cracked over the head with something big and hard.” She glared at her friend’s snicker. “You know what I mean.”

She pushed the door open and stepped in, scowling over her shoulder. “What happened?”

A groan escaped and she sat back feeling her belly roil with nausea. “Hell if I know, I just woke up when you two yahoos started bickering.” At Rabiya’s blushing cheeks she rolled her eyes. “Bring the beast in and assure him I don’t want your fortune.”

“I don’t have to do that—” But it was too late because the door pushed open like he was hovering nearby, waiting for his opportunity.

“Gorgeous,” she said and frowned. “Why did I say that?”

He smiled and Charla could admit he was a gorgeous creature. “That’s what you said to me right before you passed out.”

“Wait,” Rabiya smacked him in the gut, “you were there when she was attacked?”

“I was.” The anger in his voice faded, replaced with a blank emotionless tone. “I was on my way to meet you and I heard some arguing. Some kid with green hair was trying to take your purse,” he gave her a look that could only be described as disdainful. “And you refused to give up the hideous thing for some reason.”

“Yeah how about the fact that it was my purse.”

Crossing muscular arms over his wide chest, Kasim glared at her. “Right, and how did that brick wall feel against your head?”

She gasped, hand trembling as quick flashes of the mugging slid into place. The green hair and the angry scowl. “He had a knife.” And he’d slashed it through the air to threaten her. Why didn’t I give up the damn purse? But Charla knew why. She’d been born with nothing and had nothing nearly all of her life. Raised by an alcoholic mother who fell in and out of love as frequently as she’d changed hairstyles, Charla never had much. At least until six years ago when her mama died and her absent all her life father, sent her a long letter and a big fat check. From the grave, of course, because anything else would have been just too kind. And if she’d learned anything in her twenty five years, it was that life was never kind. “Thanks for calling the paramedics,” she told him sincerely.

“No problem.”

With a small nod she turned away from him, realizing her initial assessment of him was more than accurate. He was gorgeous with a capital ‘G’. Tall, lean and muscular with thick black hair he wore in a short, professional style that was long enough on top to give him a rakish air. And those eyes—good Lord!—they were liquid gold and so damn mystifying. Good thing he’s not my type. “Well I’m gonna rest so you two can go about your day without worrying about me,” she looked at Rabiya and smiled. “Or about me comin’ after your money,” she said to Kasim.

“Charla he didn’t mean it. Kasim really is a nice guy but sometimes he forgets that he’s a snob.”

She took in her friend’s worried face. “I don’t care about your brother, Rabi. We’re good, you and me. He can think what he wants but you know the truth.”

She smiled and ran to the bed, flinging her arms around Charla’s neck. “I’m so glad you’re alright, Charla. I’ll go home and take care of your credit cards and I.D. cards.”

“Can you call the police first? He might just dump the cards and take the cash. There was quite a bit of cash and I figure that will appease him.”

Kasim barked out a laugh and she glared at him. “What makes you so sure of that?”

---