Claimed For The Sheikh's Shock Son (Secret Heirs 0f Billionaires)

by Carol Marinelli

  The room was in darkness and when he stepped in there was the soft presence of another person.

  She was deeply asleep.

  Khalid knew that for she did not stir and her breathing was gentle and even. His first thought was that he did not want to startle her so he turned on a side light.

  Aubrey was curled up on his bed, rather than in it, and wearing a robe.

  She looked incredibly peaceful and he wished that he felt the same. Today had been harder, far harder than he had either anticipated or allowed to show.

  ‘Aubrey,’ he said gently, and got no response. ‘Aubrey,’ he said again, and she opened her eyes. ‘I thought your flight was at nine.’

  Aubrey didn’t startle.

  It was almost a relief to hear him call her name, for it was as if she’d been chasing him in her dream, but when she opened her eyes it took a second to orientate to her surroundings. The bed felt like a cloud beneath her and there was Khalid, his torso naked, standing above her.

  She knew straight away she wasn’t dreaming and she also knew nothing untoward had taken place. In fact, bizarrely, for an odd second, Aubrey wished she were waking up having been made love to by him, but then she hauled herself from that thought. ‘I must have slept through my alarm.’

  ‘Have you missed your flight?’ Khalid asked.

  ‘No.’ She shook her head and sat up as he turned on another side light. ‘I had a bath. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course not. Did you have something to eat?’

  ‘Some fruit. Thank you. How was it back at the house?’

  Khalid went to answer, to tell her how fraught it had been. How Chantelle had seemed determined not to leave. Yet he did not discuss his own private life, let alone the lives of others.

  He wanted to though.

  Khalid wanted to sit and talk with her, to tell her how his day had really been, but instead he offered a more generic response. ‘I think the day went as well as could be expected.’

  His words were delivered in a rich accent and his English was excellent, yet she felt as if there was something a little lost in translation, or rather withheld.

  There was that word again... Withheld.

  Possibly, she decided, if they were speaking in his native tongue there would be more elaboration.

  What she could not know was that this was more open than Khalid usually was.

  ‘He left me this.’ Khalid handed her the paperweight that Ethan had given him tonight.

  ‘It’s gorgeous,’ Aubrey said. ‘What is it?’

  ‘A paperweight,’ Khalid said as he handed her the stone.

  ‘I meant, what is it made of?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Khalid said, then asked her a question. ‘Aubrey, why didn’t you get into bed?’

  ‘Because I didn’t want to mess it up for you tonight.’

  ‘Oh.’ Khalid nodded. ‘That makes sense, except there is a guest room. You could have had covers in there.’

  ‘There’s a guest room!’ She was mortified and sat bolt upright. ‘I had no idea. I’ve never been somewhere like this before. I did everything to try and leave it as I found it...’

  ‘It’s fine.’ Khalid smiled.

  He smiled. It was the first time she had seen him do that and it was just so unexpected, and so nice, but Aubrey had to look away.

  He was naked from the waist up and he was completely divine. The light did not allow colour but she could see the flat lines of his stomach and that his long arms were muscular. She lay back on the pillows, holding the paperweight up so that it caught the glow from the side light and Khalid explained why he had it.

  ‘He was going to give it to me as a wedding present, but then, in Jobe’s words, damn time ran out.’

  ‘Are you getting married?’ Aubrey asked, trying to fight a curious disappointment, for it was surely irrelevant to her.

  He nodded. ‘Though my bride has not been chosen yet.’

  ‘Well, that’s good.’

  ‘Good?’

  ‘You don’t have to explain me if she calls.’

  He didn’t smile at her little joke.

  Khalid didn’t even know that it was one. He would never be asked to explain. ‘When is your flight?’

  ‘At nine in the morning.’

  ‘And where are you staying?’

  ‘I’m not. I’ll just hang out at the airport,’ Aubrey admitted.

  He looked at her for a moment. Khalid did not take in strays and would not be offering her use of the guest room tonight. Yet he found out that where Aubrey was concerned it was easy to be kind. ‘Do you want to go for dinner before you head off?’

  ‘Dinner?’

  ‘Well, I need to eat, and I guess so do you. It would seem that you have a few hours to kill.’

  ‘Oh.’ Aubrey didn’t know what to say to his offer, but he amended it before she had a chance to reply.

  ‘I apologise,’ Khalid said. ‘It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner, Aubrey.’

  She had been about to decline, but this uptight man had her smiling instead.

  ‘I’d love to,’ Aubrey said as her heart skipped off to pick roses, but she hauled it back to the confines of her chest. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t a date, she told it.

  It was Khalid being incredibly nice.

  ‘My driver will take you to the airport afterwards so bring your things. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to make a phone call before we head off.’

  She put down the paperweight, climbed off the bed and set about retrieving her shoes, dress and things and then thanked him again for letting her rest here. ‘It really was nice of you. I felt utterly drained.’

  ‘Funerals tend to do that to you.’

  ‘Really? I’ve never been to one until today.’

  ‘Then you are...’ He’d been about to say she was lucky never to have lost someone close to her till now, but then he looked at her scrabbling to find her things, and something halted him, for lucky did not seem the right word for the situation. ‘You did well,’ he said instead.

  ‘Did I?’ she checked as she bent to retrieve her shoes. ‘I’m worried I made a bit of a fool of myself when I cried.’

  ‘No.’

  It sounded as if he had thought about it, as if his answer came with thought. So few people could reassure with just one word, yet he did.

  ‘Get ready,’ he told her, and when the door closed on her he dragged a breath in.

  She was the enemy.

  Not his enemy, of course, but she was capable of causing trouble for the Devereuxes, yet he was taking her to dinner? Khalid had promised to keep an eye on her, but even he knew that it shouldn’t extend to this.

  And he was not thinking now about dinner.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AUBREY STILL HAD no clue where the guest room was and so she took her clothes and things into the powder room to change for her first ever date, which wasn’t a date.

  She had to keep reminding herself of that as she got ready to be wined and dined!

  The dress looked a smidge better without the black shawl and stockings, then she ran a comb through her hair. Aubrey really didn’t have much to work with but then she found the lipstick sample that Vanda had given her, as well as some mascara. She darkened her lashes and pinked her lips and decided it wasn’t a problem that she didn’t have any perfume—after all, scent-wise she could never compete with Khalid.

  As Aubrey stepped into the lounge, she could hear Khalid’s voice coming from the bedroom as he made his phone call. He spoke in Arabic so she didn’t have a clue what was being said, she just liked the deep of his voice.

  Her bag was over her shoulder and, deciding she might look a bit eager, she placed it by an occasional chair but did not sit down; instead she stood by a window, watching the New Yo
rk world go by. Khalid came out and retrieved his discarded clothes and started to dress, still talking on his phone.

  He poured her a drink, and she smiled and took it. Then he sat on the chair, his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he put on his socks and shoes.

  Aubrey got back to looking out of the window, trying to be polite and give him space for his call.

  But Khalid did not need space.

  It was impossible to put on cufflinks with one hand, and, keen to get to dinner and more than used to being assisted, he went over to Aubrey and when she turned, he held out his upturned arm.

  Aubrey had no idea what he meant, until she looked at his outstretched hand and saw the cufflinks.

  Still he spoke in Arabic and she looked up with confused eyes.

  ‘Could you?’ Khalid broke his conversation and spoke briefly in English.

  ‘Sure.’

  Aubrey took a heavy cufflink from his palm and what neither was quite ready for was their first contact.

  Her fingers in his palm were so light that it felt as if a bird had briefly landed there and Khalid found that he was not listening to his assistant, Laisha, give her long summary of all that had taken place while he’d been away.

  Instead he was looking at Aubrey.

  Her hair fell in a pale curtain as she fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt. Her hands were cool and her touch light. She was perfection to him right now. But, no, she was a chameleon, Khalid reminded himself.

  Yet she entranced him.

  Aubrey had no idea what she was doing with his cufflinks and it was very hard to concentrate when he was so close, but finally she got one of them in.

  ‘The other way,’ he said, and she stilled at the depth of his voice when it switched to English.

  ‘Oh.’ She removed the cufflink and the cuff of his shirt fell apart again and so too did her nerves. His hands were long-fingered and the fine, dark hairs of his arms made Aubrey’s insides shiver. She tried to tell herself it was just a hand, just a wrist as she slid in the gold cufflink the other way, yet he affected her so much. And still she did not know what to do.

  Khalid watched her.

  Laisha was asking for his response to a statement, but he could not answer, for he was captivated by Aubrey.

  He wanted her to rest that mouth in his palm, he wanted the softness of her kiss and not to mind that she had been with Jobe. He wanted her touch and to indulge himself in her skin, yet he stood silent and watched her small smile of triumph when the cufflink was in.

  Now the other.

  He was about to switch hands with his phone so that she could tend to the other, but he changed his mind and concluded the call with Laisha and inserted the second cufflink himself.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, deciding that dinner and his driver taking her to the airport was the far more sensible option. His duty today was to the Devereuxes and the murky complications he did not need. And so, when he opened the door to the penthouse suite and Aubrey headed out, Khalid gave her no excuse to return. ‘Aubrey,’ he said, assuming it was one of her many tricks. ‘Don’t forget your bag.’

  They took the elevator down and she could smell his incredible cologne and the soapiness of him and she felt self-conscious by his side, but nicely so.

  ‘Okay?’ he checked, just before the elevator hit the ground floor.

  She nodded, and gave a smile, a slightly uncertain one.

  ‘Good,’ he said, ‘let’s eat.’

  It was a beautiful restaurant with a pianist playing. There were a lot of patrons, some still in funeral attire, and that flutter of nerves turned into a surge as they entered, but Khalid ensured that things went smoothly.

  He dealt with the greeter and then walked ahead to their table, heads turning as they passed, but really she only had eyes for Khalid’s broad shoulders as they were guided to a candlelit corner table that was beautifully dressed with gleaming silverware and a small vase spilling over with ivory peonies. The window looked out to a night-time view of Central Park that, had she not been sitting opposite Khalid, would have been to die for.

  Yet she sat opposite Khalid. So elegant, so poised that Aubrey felt like a lady for the first time in her life.

  Well, not quite. She was so hungry that she wanted to fall on the bread roll like a savage and tear it apart with her teeth, but she resisted and instead she sat there as the waiter went through the menu and Khalid ordered drinks.

  ‘Champagne?’ he enquired, but Aubrey shook her head.

  ‘What was the drink upstairs?’ she asked, for though she’d had only had the tiniest sip she could still taste it on her lips.

  ‘Cognac.’

  ‘I’d like that, please.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Khalid said, not caring if it was more an end-of-dinner drink. He turned to waiter. ‘I’ll have the same. And could we have more bread?’

  That he was starving too made her smile and he noticed. ‘Why are you smiling?’ Khalid asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  He took his roll and sliced it open and then smeared half with golden butter as Aubrey did the same.

  ‘I haven’t eaten all day,’ Khalid said.

  ‘At all?’

  ‘No, and neither did Ethan or Abe. I said to them before I left that those who organise the feast never get a chance to indulge.’

  ‘Is that an Arabic saying?’

  ‘No.’ Khalid smiled. His second for her. ‘It’s a fact.’

  Now she buttered the second half of her roll and he watched her lovely pale hands tremble as they held the silver knife, just as they had with the silver pen.

  The strappy dress revealed slender arms and clavicles and even her sternal notch, yet despite her delicacy there was nothing feeble about her.

  Aubrey was strong.

  And Khalid admired strength.

  Yet there was an air of vulnerability too and it saddened Khalid that she might have been taken advantage of by Jobe.

  When Aubrey looked up he was no longer smiling and there was a pensive look on his face.

  ‘Did you have breakfast?’ she asked, carrying on the conversation, just so intrigued by him she wanted to glean what she could. Whatever she could. Did he eat down here in the morning? Was he served breakfast in bed, or at the gleaming table in his suite? He fascinated her so much.

  ‘No,’ Khalid said. ‘Well, breakfast was served but I was...’ He shook his head for he had not examined his thoughts this morning.

  ‘Too sad?’

  Khalid never admitted weakness, not even to himself, but she assumed so rightly that it gave him pause.

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted.

  ‘And me,’ Aubrey said, then looked down at the menu, trying to work out what to have, except there were no prices.

  The pasta, she knew, would be the cheapest, or perhaps she could have a risotto. There was no hope of splitting the bill and she did not want to take advantage. And as Aubrey tried to work out what might be cheapest, Khalid spoke.

  ‘So, how did you...?’ He hesitated, not really wanting the answer, but the natural question was about Jobe. ‘How long were you and Jobe...?’ Khalid could not finish, his skin crawling at the very thought.

  Hearing this confident man waver, confused Aubrey for a second.

  And the next second, as realisation hit, his slight discomfort both shamed and devastated her.

  Very deliberately she didn’t look up from the menu. She just bit down on her bottom lip as she realised Khalid assumed that she and Jobe had been an item.

  She recalled again the word he had used when speaking about her and Jobe. Not relationship, but dealings.

  Khalid, Aubrey now realised, thought that she was a prostitute.

  He wasn’t the first to think so and no doubt he wouldn’t be the last. Hell, even her own mother assumed that she was
one. But that he did hurt her.

  All that had been good about tonight felt as if it had been rearranged into a more sordid interpretation. She looked up, though not at Khalid; instead, her eyes swept the restaurant. She could see the glances in their direction and the attentive waiters, and wondered if everyone assumed the same.

  Khalid changed the subject then, not that Aubrey even heard what he said, such was the roaring in her ears. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I said that the music was pleasant.’

  ‘Y-yes,’ Aubrey stammered, but conversation was impossible now. ‘I might just use the restroom,’ Aubrey said, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice then standing and retrieving her purse.

  ‘Of course. Have you chosen what you want to eat?’

  ‘Er...’ While desperate to retreat, to get out on the street and first breathe and then run, instead she picked up the menu and experienced a curl of anger entwined with her shame as she scanned it. She had no intention of coming back, and hopefully by the time her meal arrived he would have more than worked that out, but first she would choose something. ‘Lobster Thermidor,’ Aubrey said, hoping that was as expensive as it sounded and that it might in some way pay for her hurt.

  But Khalid didn’t even blink at her choice.

  It felt as if all eyes were on her as she left the restaurant. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she was perilously close to breaking down but as she stepped out of the restaurant and into the foyer there was Brandy and the other women heading towards the bar. Aubrey didn’t want to be seen by anyone right now so, instead of walking out of the hotel, she fled to the restroom instead.

  It was gorgeous, of course. More like a luxurious dressing room with huge mirrors and deep crimson vanity chairs, and Audrey slumped into one and buried her burning face in her hands, going over and over the day.

  It was not an oversight or accident that she had been let into the funeral. The Devereuxes must have known about the monthly payments into her accounts and had assumed the worst.

  And Khalid did too.