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

by Carol Marinelli

  For an hour, one precious hour a week, she had a violin lesson.

  Aubrey used one of David’s practice violins, as she didn’t want to arouse the suspicion of her mom, but she used the violin Jobe had given her, and a silencer, to practise at home.

  She looked within and dug deep, and while there were times she felt guilty about the money she was investing in hopes and dreams of a better future, Aubrey justified it.

  For just as she paid for her mom’s scripts to be filled, music was her medicine.

  And she did all this while missing Khalid so much.

  Soon she would get over him, Aubrey told her aching heart. If she threw herself into work, into her music, the craving would surely fade.

  It didn’t.

  Oh, the girls were nice and the music so loud and the crowds so big that she wasn’t much able to think.

  That came later, generally around three in the morning when the street started to empty out and Aubrey changed into leggings and a thin oversized jumper to take the BHX bus home and it was then the ache of missing Khalid took its grim hold.

  On this night, though, before she took the BHX, she stopped at the drug store to pick up her mom’s meds. One of the scars on her mom’s neck had become inflamed and was causing her a lot of pain, and yesterday Aubrey had taken her to a clinic. Never fun, as her mom loathed going out, or being seen, but she had covered herself with scarves and a hat and glasses and had finally got the wound looked at.

  ‘You’ve taken these before?’ the pharmacist checked as he dispensed the meds.

  And Aubrey nodded, too weary this morning to explain they were for her mom. She just wanted to pay and get home to bed.

  ‘You know not to drive or drink alcohol with them?’ the very thorough pharmacist checked, holding up the pain pills.

  ‘Sure.’ Aubrey nodded. She just wanted to get away.

  ‘And that contraception might not be effective with these?’ He held up the antibiotics.

  Aubrey swallowed.

  No, she had not known that. Usually she just zoned out at the pharmacy’s spiel, or said that her mom had taken them many, many times before. But these were the tablets she had taken for her ear infection. Aubrey hadn’t gone to the clinic to get it checked, she had just taken some of her mom’s bountiful supply. ‘What do you mean, not effective?’ she asked, trying to keep the urgency from her voice.

  ‘Don’t rely on the Pill when you’re taking these,’ the pharmacist said, and then smiled. ‘Wrap it up.’

  Only they hadn’t.

  As she lined up to pay, Aubrey tried hard to ignore the pharmacist’s words, but she felt as if a hand was choking her throat.

  She’d know if she was pregnant, surely?

  Yes, she’d been sick a few times, but an internet search had told her she could blame that on her ear infection.

  Aubrey was brilliant at avoiding paying for a doctor’s consult for herself!

  Yet she could not avoid this.

  It had been six weeks since she had slept with Khalid and, no, she hadn’t had a period, but that was because she’d been continually taking her Pill.

  Aubrey threw in a home pregnancy test to be sure, or rather to reassure herself.

  Only it didn’t.

  Aubrey sat on the edge of her bed and idly plucked the strings of her gorgeous violin. It was something that she did when restless or nervous and this morning Aubrey was the latter. The soft notes that she played stopped as she watched the indicator change, and every hope she’d ever had about getting out of here, every dream she’d had about her music, her life, blew away.

  And she heard again the warning in Khalid’s voice as he’d said, ’Aubrey, you do not want to be pregnant by me.’

  What had he meant?

  Khalid was a royal prince, and a future king.

  She lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what on earth to do. Did she tell him? And if she did, then what? Her mind was swirling, turning, torn and confused.

  Khalid had said that for her to be pregnant would be unprecedented, but surely there were strategies for dealing with all eventualities.

  She could hear her mom was up and Aubrey hid the pregnancy test—just in time because her mom came in. ‘Did you get my pills? Stella asked, by way of good morning.

  ‘You’re supposed to knock,’ Aubrey reminded her.

  ‘I did knock, you just mustn’t have heard me.’ Stella said, and came and sat on the bed. ‘You’ve been crying.’

  Had she?

  ‘I’m just tired.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s just that?’

  Aubrey nodded.

  She wasn’t so much scared of telling her mom she was pregnant, more she rather knew what her response would be.

  She did not know what to do, and so for the next few weeks Aubrey held it all in, tucking herself into her tight costumes, day after day, and night after night, but her nerve had left her, and she was, for the first time, hesitant on the trapeze.

  It did not go unnoticed.

  ‘A five-year-old could have done that routine,’ she was told by Vince when she stepped down.

  ‘I’m just a bit off tonight.’

  ‘Then lift your game or go home.’

  Aubrey couldn’t lift her game. She was suddenly scared she might fall, so she went home.

  Her mom and Aunt Carmel were sitting on the porch by the time she got back. Aunt Carmel had red hair dye on and a towel around her shoulders and gave Aubrey a surprised smile. ‘You’re early.’

  ‘Yep.’ She did not want to explain in front of her aunt why she was home.

  ‘There’s some dinner,’ her mom said. ‘Have something to eat before you head out.’

  ‘I’m not working any more tonight,’ Aubrey said. ‘I’m going to bed.’

  She simply could not face it tonight so she lay on her bed and listened as Aunt Carmel and her mom chatted outside about the good old days, as they always did, but they didn’t speak for so long tonight.

  Soon they said goodnight and her mom came inside and then opened Aubrey’s bedroom door.

  ‘Can’t you knock?’ Aubrey snapped.

  ‘Sorry,’ she conceded. ‘Aubrey, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Vince sent me home. He said a five-year-old could do my routine.’

  ‘Then get back there and show him what you’re made of!’

  ‘I can’t,’ Aubrey said, ‘because I’m scared of falling.’

  ‘But you’ve never been scared before.’

  Aubrey took a deep breath. ‘I’ve never been pregnant before!’

  ‘Oh, Aubrey...’ her mom said in a sad, resigned voice. ‘You could have told me.’

  ‘I’m telling you now.’

  ‘How far along are you?’

  ‘Three months.’ Aubrey lay with her eyes closed, knowing what was to come.

  ‘You need to get onto it,’ Stella said. ‘You’re getting to the stage where no doctor will want to touch you...’

  Her eyes snapped open. ‘Is that all you have to say?’

  ‘Come off it, Aubrey.’ Stella wasn’t cross. ‘What else is there to say?’ Then she thought of something. ‘Do you know who the father is?’

  Aubrey said nothing and it broke her heart that her mom took her silence to mean no.

  She lay with arms folded as her mother spelled out their rather precarious situation. ‘You’re not going to be able to work for much longer and we’re barely getting by as it is...’

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ Aubrey said. ‘You haven’t worked in four years.’

  ‘No one’s going to employ me looking like this. If it hadn’t been for the fire Jobe would have...’

  But she didn’t want to hear her mom’s fantasy about Jobe rescuing them played over and over so she interrupted the stream of might-have
-beens with more practical solutions. ‘You could work phones. Aunt Carmel told you she might be able to arrange that. You could get a housekeeping job at one of the hotels but, no, you sit in here taking your meds and moaning about money and do absolutely nothing to help yourself.’ Aubrey could see her mother’s aghast face as she jumped out of bed.

  ‘Aubrey, I can’t go out looking like this.’

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’ Aubrey shouted.

  It was a row that had been coming for a long time. One that Aubrey had held back from having, as she didn’t want to hurt her mom, but, hell, she was not giving up her baby. ‘I’ll be back working tomorrow night. I’ll support myself, and my baby. And when I start to show I’ll work the phones and I’ll do housekeeping, but I am not killing my baby because you choose to sit here and let life pass you by.’

  Aubrey pulled on some clothes and picked up her purse and walked out into the night. She walked and she sobbed and she wanted Khalid, but was terrified of what the consequences might be if he found out.

  If anyone found out.

  Would he insist that she get rid of it?

  Or would he have some claim on her baby? Would it be taken away?

  Aubrey wouldn’t risk finding out.

  If there was one good thing about this day and the terrible row with her mom, it had taught her one thing. She wanted her baby. Desperately.

  And she would survive.

  Hell, she wasn’t the first single mom around here.

  Though the first who’d borne the child of a prince, she was sure.

  No one must know, Aubrey vowed. No one must ever know.

  * * *

  It was very late when she returned home, and Aunt Carmel was there with her mom.

  ‘Here she is.’ Aunt Carmel smiled.

  ‘I’ve kept your dinner warm, go and sit down,’ her mom said as Aubrey took a seat, and she was brought her dinner on a tray and made a fuss of. ‘I’m sorry, Aubrey.’

  ‘I know,’ Aubrey said, she could see that her mom had been crying and knew this was hard on her. Not just the news of the baby but the harsh words that had been said too.

  ‘It was just a bit of a shock. You know I hate how things have turned out. If there hadn’t been that damn fire, well, Jobe and I...’

  Aubrey closed her eyes.

  She knew now that it wasn’t the fire that had kept them apart.

  And it wasn’t even Chantelle.

  Jobe had adored her mom, but it had been nothing more than an escape for him. Jobe had never been going to propose or marry her, or all the things her mom had dreamed, but Aubrey didn’t crush her with that, for finally Stella Johnson was trying. ‘I’m going to make some phone calls tomorrow, and see about getting some work. We’ll be okay, you know that, Aubrey. We always have been.’

  Yes, they had always been okay.

  Sort of.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AAYIZ HARIS JOHNSON.

  It was by his middle name, Haris, that he became known to her mother and amongst their friends.

  But Aayiz was the name in Aubrey’s heart and the one she whispered when she cradled him close.

  It meant replacement.

  A gift.

  In return for something lost.

  Aubrey had felt as if she had lost her heart, and then her son had been born and she had found a piece of it again.

  He was so beautiful.

  So beautiful that when Aubrey first held him, in her slight haze, Aubrey panicked that surely they could tell just by looking who his father was, though her mom and aunt just readily accepted that Aubrey had no idea.

  Aayiz, or Haris as they called him, was simply one of their own.

  He had almond-shaped eyes that looked straight to your soul and caramel skin like his father’s. He was a serious baby, but at four months old the smile that lit up his face when he saw Aubrey melted her.

  The birth had been hard. Not so much physically—her training and stamina had meant Aubrey had coped well—but he had been born ten weeks early and that had been frightening.

  It had been deeply painful too, though mainly on an emotional level.

  She had wanted Khalid beside her and to know again the safe way he had made her feel when he was by her side, the way she had felt so looked after when he had given her a place to rest.

  Aubrey had been grateful for the physical pain for it had given her a chance to cry out. She hadn’t since the day she had rowed with her mom.

  Things were better there now.

  The Johnsons were survivors, even if her mom had gone under for a while. After their row, her mom had quickly accepted that there was a grandchild on the way and that had motivated her to find work. At first, Stella had done some housekeeping at one of the very expensive hotels on the Strip and it had twisted Aubrey’s heart to see her mom trying to be brave while terrified. Aunt Carmel had gone on the bus with her sister for the first few shifts, but soon she’d taken the BHX herself.

  Now her mom was one of the supervisors there.

  Money was still a huge issue. Almost as soon as Stella had found work, Aubrey had had to quit dance and trapeze. She’d found some reception work for a couple of months, but the pay had been irregular.

  Still, she had exercised daily and had been determined that as soon as she was able she’d be back on the trapeze and kicking her legs in Fremont Street.

  Yet for all the struggle, Aayiz was worth it.

  ‘You’re as handsome as your daddy,’ Aubrey told him as she cuddled him on her bed, stroking his silky black hair. She had waited for his eyes to turn the same burnt copper as Khalid’s, yet they remained resolutely china blue. Still, they had the same way of looking directly into your soul, Aubrey thought as she ran a finger over and over his beautifully arched eyebrow, lulling him to sleep.

  Aubrey missed Khalid every minute of every single day, and every minute of every single night. So badly she wanted to tell him about their son, but she just did not know how he’d react. And she could not get away from thinking of him for, like Khalid’s pasta primavera, suddenly Al-Zahan seemed to be being mentioned everywhere.

  A few nights ago, she had sat watching television and there had been a mention of the memorial being held for the anniversary of Jobe’s death. Aubrey had tried to go but had been unable to afford it. She was still taking violin lessons but to get a discount had had to pay for ten weeks up front. Then breastfeeding hadn’t worked, which had been another expense she hadn’t been counting on.

  At the mention of Jobe, she’d looked over at her mom and seen the wistful look on her tired, scarred face, and had been so glad she hadn’t been cruel on that difficult night when they’d rowed. Perhaps her mom had deep down known that she and Jobe would never be, but at least the dream of them had given her mom an escape.

  Then the newsreader had spoken of the Devereux brothers’ new venture, a grand hotel that was opening soon in Al-Zahan, and Aubrey had flushed as Khalid’s face had appeared on the screen.

  He wore a white robe and checked kafeyah, and that brief glimpse of Khalid had her heart leaping into her throat. He had a dark beard and looked so imposing, and so far from the man who had walked and held hands with her in Central Park. Aubrey’s throat had closed tight as she’d waited for her mom to recognise him. To see that the son Aubrey held in her arms was the tiny image of him.

  Yes, there were reminders of Khalid and his country everywhere.

  Some of her friends were heading to Al-Zahan to earn tax-free dollars for the grand opening taking place in a couple of weeks. And just yesterday, when she’d flicked on the television, she’d landed on some Middle Eastern news channel and the image of a huge rose-gold palace, the cameras zooming in on the shimmering dome. She’d read the captions and seen that it was the palace in Al-Zahan.

  She looked down at a now sleeping Aayiz and simply did not kno
w what to do. Aubrey had never known who her own father was and she didn’t want the same for her son.

  A soft knock at the bedroom door told Aubrey that it wasn’t her mom. She put a finger to her lips as Aunt Carmel came in. ‘He’s asleep,’ Aubrey said.

  ‘Can I hold him?’ her aunt asked, and held out her arms. Her family and friends all doted on Aayiz, and soon Aunt Carmel was sitting on the bed, cradling her great-nephew. ‘How are you doing?’ she asked.

  ‘Good,’ Aubrey said.

  ‘You’re back on the trapeze.’

  Aubrey nodded. ‘Only in practice, and I’ve been doing some lyra routines.’

  She had been waiting tables for a couple of months while training to get back to her regular work. Now she was in the air again and her body was finally starting to obey instructions, though she was taking it gently and wasn’t quite ready to perform. ‘I think I’m nearly ready to go back,’ Aubrey explained, ‘but I want to be sure. I’ve still got a couple of pounds to lose and I don’t want to give Vince a reason to send me home again.’

  ‘I’m asking because I ran into Brandy the other day. You know her, she was at Jobe’s funeral. She was married to him, you know...’

  ‘I know.’ Aubrey smiled. Her mom and Carmel had told her that a thousand times since she’d returned with all the funeral details.

  Well, not quite all the details!

  ‘We used to call her Randy Brandy,’ Carmel mused. ‘She runs a dance school now.’

  Aubrey nodded. She knew that too.

  ‘Brandy needs to find some performing artists to send to Al-Zahan for the grand opening. They’re flying a representative in for the auditions but all her girls that are good enough have already signed up. They need a few more and Brandy wants the commission. She asked about you.’

  Aubrey stopped nodding.

  ‘It’s really good money,’ Carmel added.

  ‘I’m not ready to perform.’

  ‘You just said you almost were, anyway. It’s only background stuff, nothing you can’t handle. You should at least have a word with Brandy, she gave me her card,’ Carmel said, and placed it by the bed.

  ‘I’m not leaving my baby, he’s only four months old.’