The Sheikh's Contract Bride
Holly Rayner
The Sheikh’s Contract Bride
Holly Rayner
Contents
Holly Rayner
The Sheikh’s Contract Bride
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Holly Rayner
The Sheikh’s Baby Bet
Introduction
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Also by Holly Rayner
The Sheikh’s Contract Bride
Holly Rayner
Copyright 2017 by Holly Rayner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
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Chapter One
“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!”
A man with grizzled hair and tattered clothing dashed down the dark streets of L.A., a recent rain casting a shining glow on the pavement beneath his feet as he sprinted toward a chain-link fence.
“I said I’ll shoot!” Kaye shouted, her voice breaking. She took a breath, prepared to do what she had to.
“Cut!”
Breathing hard, Kaye turned to look behind her, where a series of cameras and a whole crew of people stood watching the scene. The man who had shouted cut was the director, Barry, and Kaye looked at him expectantly as the extra who had been running jogged back to his starting position.
“What’s going on, Barry?”
The director held a cellphone in his hand, his eyes dark even in the obscurity of predawn. It was the only time they could reserve the street for shooting without having to pay to clear or close it.
“We’re through,” he announced, his eyes darting around to the shocked stares of his cast and crew. “The network just called; they’re pulling the show.”
“What?” Kaye asked, stunned. “Barry, this was supposed to be my big break. You can’t do this to me.”
“I’m not doing anything,” he reminded her, his tone defeated. “They said our pilot didn’t test well. Apparently it’s not original enough for a cop show. We’re finished.”
He turned and looked back at the crew.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Pack up. Find another gig. It’s time to move on.”
After a heavy pause, people began to move, folding up camera gear, chairs, and breaking everything down while Kaye continued to stare at Barry, as though waiting for him to look up and grin at how he had managed to fool everyone so effectively. When he didn’t, she approached him.
“I need this paycheck, Barry. I need to pay my rent.”
Barry shrugged her off, a far cry from his usual genial attitude.
“Sorry, kid. We all needed it; believe me. You’ve got a pretty face. You’ll find another gig.”
“Are you serious? In this town?”
“You landed the lead role in your own show. You have the talent. Others will see that.”
“My own show that got canceled before even airing!”
When she realized that she would get no satisfaction from Barry, she stormed off the set, packing the small bag she’d left in a trailer. For a few minutes, she sat in her ancient yellow Beetle, her gaze drifting toward the sun rising over the city.
What was she going to do now?
Her car stalled several times before the engine finally choked to life, sputtering as she drove off the set of the perfect, life-changing job that never was.
Kaye frowned.
She was exhausted. Fortunately, makeup had a way of making one look less haggard, but she felt about a hundred years older than her twenty-five years. In Hollywood, she might as well have been a hundred. She’d moved there years ago with stars in her eyes and hope in her heart, only to be judged and cast aside for any number of vague reasons. Her hair wasn’t the right color (couldn’t that be easily changed?), her nose was a little crooked (couldn’t that also be easily changed?), her voice was too deep or too high pitched…
The list went on and on. If Kaye hadn’t been raised with a strong sense of pride and stubbornness, she would have given up ages ago, but she knew in her heart that she was meant to be an actress. She just needed someone to give her a chance!
Now, that chance had passed, and she was back to being unemployed in Tinseltown. Kaye sighed heavily as she pulled into her small apartment complex just as the sun crested the city skyline. It was clearly going to be another beautiful day. What a shame that she would be spending it inside looking for work.
Kaye shuffled into her cramped one-bedroom apartment, looking around dejectedly. She had enough rent money for one more month, thanks to her initial paycheck for the cop show, but it wouldn’t last long. She had to think of something, fast.
Flipping the switch on her coffee maker, she stared out the window at the building next door. It wasn’t exactly a Hollywood kind of view, but it was a tiny little space in the one place in the world she wanted to be. To Kaye, that was worth more than any number of sprawling mansions back in Indiana.
The coffee slurped and gurgled as it poured into her stained old pot, and she rinsed out a mug before pouring herself a cup, deciding on having it black and bitter to match her current mood. As she stared at her sink full of dirty dishes, a new wave of resentment filled her chest.
Kaye had spent so much of her time on that project. For a month, she had followed around female members of the force, researching their mannerisms, how they handled themselves under pressure. It had been an amazing experience, and she could feel it coming through as she’d ran through her lines, her scenes impeccable.
And it had all been for nothing.
Taking a sip of coffee, Kaye sat at her desk and turned on her computer—a graduation gift from her parents when she finished her degree in theater only three years before. She had run straight to L.A. afterwards, knowing that it would be hard, but hopeful that she would be the exception to the rule.
Boy, had she been wrong.
She opened the job ad pages for local actors, skimming through. She was a natural brunette, but based on what she was seeing, the trend was now heading back in the direction of blondes. She was in the middle of a thought about whether or not she should dye her hair again when her phone rang.
Curious, she took a peek at the caller ID before answering.
“You’re up early,” she said.
“I know. I have a friend on the crew of your show and he texted me and woke me up. I’m so sorry, Kaye.”
K
aye repressed another sigh—something she had been doing far too much of over the past three years. Then again, years of soul-crushing disappointment had a way of making the struggling actress sigh more often than not—at least, when it didn’t bring her to tears. Her friend Jessa had always found a way to cheer her up. It was the only reason to answer the call.
“Thanks,” Kaye said. “I really thought we had a good thing going there.”
“Everyone did,” Jessa replied. “Whoever tested that audience was clearly an idiot. That show would have been the highest rated on television, because you are a star Kaye. Never forget that.”
Kaye laughed, and the bitterness leaked through.
“You might be the only person in the world that knows it. Haven’t you heard? There’s enough brunettes with brown eyes in the industry. I’m not bringing anything new.”
“Don’t get defeatist, Kaye. There are plenty of jobs in this town, and someday, you and I are going to be on the red carpet, telling our sad origin story about all the struggles we went through to get there. You’ll see.”
Kaye stared out at her miniscule, dirty apartment, and she doubted her friend’s words for the first time.
“I don’t know, Jessa. Maybe it’s time to call a spade a spade.”
“Don’t you talk like that! You are going to make it, Kaye! You are an amazing actress! You’re just exhausted and disappointed. I get that. It’s been a long night of shooting and you need some rest. You’ll feel better about your prospects in the morning.”
“I can’t even afford to pay my rent, Jessa! It’s not a matter of whether or not I’m good enough; if I don’t land a job, I have no choice but to pack my bags and go home a failure,” she said, choking on the last word.
The tears came then, and Kaye wiped them away, her stage makeup staying perfectly in place. They used some pretty amazing magic in the film industry; she had to admit that.
“Kaye, after we’re done talking, I want you to shut your computer off, because I’m sure the first thing you did was start looking for another job, and I want you to get some sleep. You’ll be able to face the world again once you’re well rested.”
“I’m pretty sure I haven’t been facing the world very well with or without sleep.”
Jessa hesitated, as if she didn’t know what to say. Kaye would have felt bad about it if she wasn’t so caught up in her own misery.
“Look, I wasn’t going to bring this up, but there’s an audition happening tomorrow.”
Kaye’s head lifted and she held the phone a little closer to her ear.
“What audition?” she asked, trying not to sound too desperate.
“It’s nothing big…I don’t think. The truth is, I haven’t been getting many bites either, so the other day, I took a risk…and I went on Craigslist to see if they might have something there.”
“Seriously, Jessa?” Kaye asked.
“We all have to pay our rent, Kaye. Anyway, the ad seemed a little sketchy. They didn’t say what the position is for, only that they’re looking for actresses in our age range… I don’t know, I thought it might be worth checking out. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“We could be murdered?” Kaye offered.
“Or we could be discovered! Worth the risk? Will you come with me? You don’t have to audition, but even just having you there as support would mean the world.”
Kaye thought about going to a dead-end audition instead of spending more time looking for lucrative work. Then, she glanced at her computer screen and the pages and pages of ads looking for blondes, and she reconsidered.
“I suppose there is strength in numbers. I’ll meet you there. Can you send me the post so I know where to go?”
“Of course! You’re the best, Kaye. Even in the face of adversity, you’re still willing to be there for a friend.”
Her voice was elated, and it was almost enough to draw Kaye out of her funk.
Almost.
“I’m glad I can help. And hey, maybe we’ll get discovered there and then this nightmare life in the doldrums can finally come to an end.”
“You always did have a way with words,” Jessa chuckled. “Maybe you should look into screenwriting instead.”
“No, this is what I’m meant to do. It has to be.”
“Of course it is. I’ll text you that link now and meet you there tomorrow. Let’s make this happen, Kaye!”
“Okay. And Jessa?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for giving me hope when I’m down. Your timing is perfect as ever.”
Jessa laughed.
“We may not get to see one another all that often anymore, but I’m still looking out for my number one L.A. girl! Until tomorrow, hon.”
“Until then,” Kaye said, ending the call.
A moment later, Jessa sent the link over, and Kaye read it through. She wasn’t wrong. The ad was terribly vague, with the address listed at the bottom.
Was Kaye really so desperate? Just hours before, she had been prepped to headline her own cop show, and now she was following sketchy leads from internet ads?
Setting her phone down, Kaye resolved to follow Jessa’s advice, and plopped face-down on her twin bed before going blissfully unconscious.
Perhaps the next day would bring better news.
Chapter Two
Kaye applied her makeup, taking care to select the eyeliner that brought out the golden flecks in her eyes. It was the one claim to fame she might have, being a pretty but unremarkable-looking brunette in Los Angeles. She had to find a way to stand out, to be unique. Clearly, what she was doing wasn’t enough.
When she finished her morning regime, she grabbed her car keys and headed out the door, typing the address into her phone. As usual, her car took a little coaxing to get started.
“Come on, girl,” Kaye coached, rubbing her hands along the steering wheel as though that would help. “Today is not the day to crap out on me.”
After a few more tries, the car spluttered to life, and Kaye cheered.
“We got this, girl! Today could be our day.”
She blasted one of her favorite songs on a homemade CD, rolling down her windows and singing at the top of her lungs as she drove. While the air quality didn’t exactly match that of the Indiana countryside where she’d grown up, L.A. smog was one of Kaye’s favorite scents. It was the smell of hope, of success, of dreams being fulfilled. She knew that when she breathed it in, she was taking a chance on living her best life, rather than letting life just happen to her.
Turning off the freeway, she headed down a road that led far outside of town. Warehouses dotted the thinning landscape as buildings became fewer and farther between. Finally, her phone told her that she had reached her destination, and she pulled into a nearly vacant parking lot, in front of a dilapidated gray building.
“Okay, so this one probably does end in murder,” Kaye mused as she rolled up her windows and locked her doors.
She stared around, looking for signs of other people—for Jessa, at the very least. Not seeing her friend’s car, she pulled out her phone and typed out a text.
I’m here. Where are you? Hoping not dead.
She sent the message and waited, staring out the windshield just in case anyone felt like jumping out and carjacking her while she sat in the eerily quiet parking lot. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Jessa texted back.
OMG so sorry! Another audition came up just now and I have to jump on it. You get it, girl. Let’s touch base later—would love to hear how that one goes! Good luck!
A wave of pure annoyance swept over Kaye as she read the text, her thumb hovering over her keypad as she tried to think of a response that wasn’t as catty as she felt like being in that moment. She took a few deep breaths, opting for simple and classy.
Okay. Good luck.
Setting her phone down, Kaye stared once more at the warehouse. There were other cars in the lot, so there had to be people inside. Were they all killers and victims, or was thi
s actually worth a shot? Thinking about her empty bank account and the fact that she had eaten saltine crackers for breakfast, she realized she wasn’t exactly in a position to pass anything up. She had already driven there. If it seemed like something was off inside, she would bail, and that was that.
Unlocking her car, Kaye stepped out, raising a hand to block out the Californian sun as she walked briskly to a propped-open door. When she stepped inside, it took her eyes a moment to adjust, and when they did, she felt a small sense of relief.
There was a small group of other disconcerted-looking women standing in a circle toward the center of the warehouse. Kaye made her way over, and a red-headed woman scooted a little to make room for her in the circle. Glancing around, Kaye could see in an instant that they were all stunning— though everyone that showed up to a casting call in L.A. was. The competition had been fierce from the start; Kaye just had to hope she had the acting chops to set herself apart.
One could always hope.
“Do you know what this is for?” one of the girls asked Kaye.
She shrugged.
“Not really. My friend was supposed to do the audition and I agreed to show moral support, but then she bailed and told me to go for it instead.”
“I’m not sure I blame her,” another woman said. She had a perfectly angular face, large blue eyes, and hair the color of corn silk. Kaye found herself wondering what that girl was doing among them, when the casting calls she had seen earlier would have been a perfect fit for her.
The group mumbled uneasily as a loud screeching sound rang out across the room. Everyone turned toward the back of the warehouse, where a separate chamber had been opened by a man that looked far too much like a weasel. His eyes were beady and black, his hair greasy.
As the man stepped forward, another man walked up from behind him, falling in step at his side as they approached the small circle of women. This man was a different package altogether. He was tall and muscular, with his deep olive skin, dark hair and eyes suggesting he was Middle Eastern. As he came closer, the women began to whisper.
