The Sheikh's Triplet Baby Surprise (The Sheikh's Baby Surprise Book 3) Read Free Page A

the bottom floor.
     
    Outside, she stood in the Santa Monica sunlight, facing the water. This was the moment in her career that everyone spoke about—the moment when everything was going to change. Every step and decision, every sacrifice she’d made had been leading up to now.
     
    But now—before she could travel halfway across the world—she had some work to do. She ruffled her fingers through her hair and rushed upstairs to nab her purse and grab a few essential work supplies from her desk. God, all the years she’d spent there, hoping beyond anything else that she could escape.
     
    As she passed Flora’s desk, she saw tears gleaming down the intern’s cheeks. Flora wouldn’t look at her.
     
    Amity paused, bobbing her weight from left to right. Should she say something?
     
    “Um. Flora?” Amity began, her voice hesitant. “Did you get the news?”
     
    Flora blinked up at her, whipping her blond hair behind her shoulders. “I knew you hated me, Amity, but why are you making me go?” Her eyes swept toward Mark, whose back was toward them. She quivered.
     
    Amity kept her eye roll to herself. She leaned toward the girl, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-one, and pressed her palms flat on the wooden desk. “Flora,” she began. “I know it seems dark right now. Especially given whatever’s going on with Mark—”
     
    Flora frowned, her eyebrows joining in the center of her face. “What are you trying to say?”
     
    “I’m sorry,” Amity said, sighing. “Listen. We won’t be gone long, I promise. This sheikh—he won’t know what hit him. We’ll be in and out of the country in a jiffy. And maybe you’ll learn something while we’re there. Who knows?” She gave the girl a subtle grin.
     
    Flora struggled as she inhaled, exhaled. She nodded. “I’m sorry. It was just sudden.” She cleared her throat, taking on that faux professionalism once more. “I’ll clear your schedule. You go on home and pack. I’ll do the same when I’m done here.”
     
    Amity gave Flora a genuine smile, warmth flooding through her. “Thank you,” she breathed, before standing and exiting the office, not stopping to wish anyone else goodbye. She had a long journey in front of her. She didn’t have time to dwell.
     
    And this was very much her way. She didn’t dwell on the past, on any regrets she had about her life. She was centered on the here and now—and how this here and now could advance her future. First this gig, then New York.
     
    In the back of her mind, she questioned when she’d have time to meet “the one” in all of that; when she’d have time to go on a single date, even. But she brushed her wavy brown hair to the side and charged toward her little red car. She’d always done better on her own.
     
    She stretched her manicured fingers over the steering wheel, listening to the engine purr, and reminded herself that a life fulfilled with a career, with the possibility of travel, was much better and stronger than any life of love. Love was volatile; love could ruin you. And, as a PR agent, she knew better than to put herself in danger.

 
    THREE

Amity lined up her suitcases outside of her apartment door and checked her purse for her passport, which she thumbed through lightly. She had only one stamp—London, from that time, nearly nine years ago, when she’d journeyed with her mother. That felt like a lifetime ago: standing on the banks of the Thames, wondering at the life she would create for herself. Her mother, a child of divorce, and herself divorced from Amity’s father, had explained to her then that she must pursue her own destiny, without mixing it with the destiny of others.
     
    “No wonder I’m so cynical,” Amity breathed, grabbing her suitcase and ensuring the door was locked once more. She had a taxi waiting for her to head to the airport, and she was already mentally saying goodbye to L.A.
     
    She’d called her friends the evening before, explaining in