Sheikh's Fake Fiancee by Jessica Brooke, Ella Brooke Page B

flown back from Paris on her own. After their fight, Bahan said he didn’t want to upset her anymore or be a “distraction” for her family. He’d also mentioned that he might as well fly back to Yemen for a bit, coordinate some contracts that his family’s construction and shopping emporium business was trying to solidify with their nearby neighbor Dubai. Oddly, he hadn’t mentioned those contracts before, but what did she expect? After she’d broken away with him, set their marriage up as a complete and utter marriage of convenience and for show, Jennifer couldn’t honestly expect him to stay.
    Everything felt so hollow, like someone had scooped her insides out like a pumpkin at Halloween, and the tears on her flight hadn’t helped with the exhaustion or depression either. But that wasn’t her choice anymore.
    All she could do was be there for Syd. To help support her sister as best as she could.
    “She’s in a coma,” her mother said, before breaking down in tears again.
    Jennifer shot an apologetic look at her secretary and best friend. “Rose, you’ve been amazing. If you give me a couple of hours to figure it all out, I’ll take a shift off and take you out for a huge thank-you dinner.”
    “You don’t owe me anything, honey,” the brunette said, leaning over and kissing her cheek. “Just take care of her, and make sure that the doctors do everything they can.”
    “You know I will,” Jennifer said, forcing her voice not to waiver. Her mother needed her to be strong, like always.
    After Rose had disappeared behind the shutting elevator doors, she turned to her mother and led her to a plastic chair. It amazed her that even in the best hospitals, the waiting room chairs could also double for diabolical torture devices. Or bright orange parking cones.
    “Mom, do you need to go home and get a change of clothes or a shower?”
    Her mother shook her head, the graying strands of blond hair tangling over her face as she did so. “I couldn’t leave here if I wanted to. I have a bag with spare stuff and I can always shower in Syd’s room. She’s not going to be able to object…I…what if she can’t ever do anything again?”
    Her mother started sobbing and that scared Jennifer more than anything else had, even Rose’s voice mail. She’d never seen her mother completely lose it before—not the day her father left, not with Syd’s other stays in the hospital, and not even when Jennifer told her about her sister’s need for a transplant. If even Carole Wilde thought that hope might be gone, then the situation was dire. Usually, her mother was the toughest damn woman she knew, as well as the biggest optimist. After all, where else would Sydney get her bubbly kindness from?
    “She will,” Jennifer said, shushing her mother and rocking back and forth with her. “I’ll sit right by Sydney, hold her hand long enough for you to shower in the room. You’ll feel better when you’re clean.”
    “What about you?”
    She blushed, trying to think about how she’d explain her bath from last night. God, had it only been twelve hours since Bahan had made her scream in pleasure?
    “I’m clean. Bahan’s jet had a shower facility on it.”
    That much was true. She’d showered again over the Atlantic, not wanting her hair to be tangled or to smell like sex when she got to the hospital. It made her feel marginally more human, to accept the reality of the situation spinning out around her.
    Her mother frowned, finally noticing that her husband wasn’t with her. “And where is Bahan?”
    “He’s…we had a fight.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    She sighed and hugged her mother tightly one more time. “I don’t know if I do either.”
    “Is he still in Paris?”
    “He had sudden business come up in Yemen.”
    Her mother pulled away and narrowed her sharp blue eyes at Jennifer. “Really?”
    “Don’t you want that bath now, Mom?”
    “Yes, but don’t think we won’t be talking about your missing