Free The Sheikh's Triplet Baby Surprise (The Sheikh's Baby Surprise Book 3) by Holly Rayner Page B

and confusion. Why was the Sheikh making it so difficult for her to do her job? This should have been a major step in the right direction. And instead, it seemed as if he were working against her. She felt as if she were walking backwards.
     
    After calling nearly twenty different charities, each time encountering the same problem, a flustered Amity thrust herself into the sunshine of the gardens, scratching her head. Her brain was humming. So often, her clients had been far too consumed with which party they would be attending next, which girl they would date, which event they would ruin. Generally, they didn’t even know which charities were present in their city—let alone donate to them.
     
    Amity paused next to the animal enclosure, where the lions and tigers were sleeping like house cats, their paws twitching. She strung her fingers through the fence, somehow unafraid of these massive creatures, and inhaled, exhaled, trying to think. How was she growing so used to this world, in such a brief amount of time? Her hair fell in muddled strings around her face, and she decided to shower and change before the Sheikh returned from his afternoon meetings.
     
    A few hours before dinner, the same maid from that morning arrived at Amity’s office and knocked at her door, informing her that Aziz was out in the garden, and wanted to speak with her. Amity thanked her and scurried to her feet, whizzing out into the garden and into the sunshine. There, she found Aziz—grinning at her with those dark, penetrating eyes. He wore another tailored suit and stood with his fingers dipped into his pockets, waiting.
     
    “Good evening, Amity. How are you? I’m sorry I missed you this morning. I know you were struggling with jetlag.”
     
    “It’s no trouble,” Amity said brightly. She took his offered arm and walked beside him, through the gardens. “In fact, I began work on a new strategy for your image today. But it seems that you foiled it already.” She was trying to tease him, but she could tell that her words cut into him, gave him pause.
     
    “I’m sorry?” he asked. He cleared his throat, halting their walk. “What do you mean?”
     
    “Well,” Amity said, suddenly anxious. She bit her lip. “I thought about what you said about your father being so involved with charity. What a wonderful thing. And so I figured it would be appropriate for you to do something similar—to make donations—in your name—to various charities around the city. But it seems that you’ve already beaten me to it.”
     
    “And chosen to do it anonymously,” Aziz said sternly. He swiped his hand through his dark hair, shaking his head.
     
    “Why is that?” Amity continued, feeling like a child. “Why would you do this anonymously, when it seems that it would bolster your image so much? I hate to pry. It’s just making our mission that much more difficult.”
     
    “Amity, I feel very strongly about the concept of charity,” Aziz began. His sigh was heavy. “I believe that too many people contribute to charity for that exact reason—to show other people they care, when they really don’t. I don’t want to exploit charities, orphanages or food drives to improve my personal reputation. That’s what my father did. Everyone knew how much he donated, and when. And they clapped him on the back for it. I don’t want to do it that way.”
     
    Amity took a step back, allowing the air to cool between them. She opened her mouth, searching for something to say, but all of a sudden, Aziz’s phone began to buzz in his pocket. He lifted his finger, asking for a moment. And she nodded, watching him march back into the house with a firm, “Hello, this is Aziz.”
     
    She shifted her weight from foot to foot, assessing their conversation. So often, she’d used the tactic of charity donation to improve someone’s image in the public eye. But what had she actually been doing? She’d been taking advantage of orphanages. She’d been