The Sheikh's Borrowed Baby (More Than He Bargained For Book 7) by Holly Rayner

Author:Holly Rayner [Rayner, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

“Oh, Mom, I’m such an idiot.”

Hallie hadn’t been able to wait until that promised dinner at her parents’ home in order to unburden herself. Exhausted, with her shift and the extra hours finally over, she had collected her things from the break room locker, stumbled to where her trusty car waited in the hospital lot’s outer limits, and managed to find her way home.

But it wasn’t until she had kicked off her clogs and stripped out of her scrubs for a long, cool shower that her clenched muscles could finally begin to relax. Even then, it took a change into lightweight cotton pajamas and a plop down upon her sagging couch, staring at the rough walls surrounding, before she realized that it was time to talk.

She needed her mother’s sympathetic ear; she needed her mother’s perspective on what had happened, before she could make sense of things.

She needed…well, not closure, really, since, thanks to her accidental bumbling, the connection binding Hallie Jameson to Sheikh Karim Al Ahsan remained in place. But something. She needed something. Absolution, perhaps.

The hour was late. Normally, she wouldn’t try calling, when it was so close to midnight. But Joanne never slept soundly when her little grandson slumbered in his bedroom in her home. The slightest little creak, and she was up to check on him. So, Hallie had felt little hesitation in dialing the number.

“What do you mean, honey?” came the quiet question.

She sighed, took a sip of her decaf iced tea, and twirled a loosened strand of hair around one finger.

“Got a few minutes to listen to my whining?”

“Always, dear. Just let me get to the living room, so I don’t disturb your father.”

For the next half hour, Hallie related the story of everything that had taken place during the last few days, beginning with the fateful chance meeting at the coffeehouse. Haltingly. Reluctantly. Even with a few tears. (For who wants to admit to her own mother, supportive though she might be, that she, a mature adult woman could still fall for the twists and turns of a fairy-tale romance?)

Joanne listened, without comment or question, till the end, when the confessional was at last finished, and Hallie could sag back against the enfolding couch. Until she felt the almost palpable relief of collapsing, she hadn’t even realized that tension had held her so upright and uptight.

“And now it’s all fallen apart, around us,” she concluded, with a heavy sigh.

“Any story built on a lie often does,” her mother said. There was neither judgment nor censure in her tone; it was simply a statement of fact. “Somehow, the truth always comes out.”

“The worst of it is, poor Karim doesn’t even know what happened. He’s not aware that the whole deal has completely blown up, thanks to me.”

“Oh, you take too much credit for yourself, Hallie. It’s hardly your fault that this man—Chip?—came into your ER looking for help, and you were there working at the time. It’s just one of those terrible coincidences. But, sweetheart, it is your fault for saying yes to begin with, and getting involved.

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