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

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘Does it abhor you to take money from me?’

  ‘Yes.’ Aubrey nodded. ‘I won’t be like my mother, Khalid. History won’t repeat itself. I will not sit in some home, kept by you, waiting for the master to arrive.’

  ‘You cannot see anyone else.’

  ‘Oh, but I shall,’ Aubrey said. They were laying down the rules and their love lived or died this night, so she told him how it would be. ‘I want love in my life, Khalid, and I’m sure I’ll find it. Someone nice, who loves my son as if he were his own.’ Tears were streaming down her face now yet she was strong against this immutable man.

  ‘And when Aayiz asks about his real daddy, I’ll say he didn’t want to know you. He sent us money, and I saved it for you for when you’re older, Aayiz, but I raised you myself. And I’ll make love to my husband and thank God for a man who loves me and my son...’ She gave Khalid pain, for she saw it flicker across his face, before he composed himself and then refuted her bold, provocative words.

  ‘You could never want another man as you want me.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ she both sneered and lied. She knew a few tricks, even if she’d never used them till now, but she had been taught how to make a man burn. ‘I might touch myself to the memory of you every now and then...’ she watched the tightening of his lips ‘...but it will be my husband who satisfies me.’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘For ever,’ Aubrey clarified. ‘You don’t get it, do you? I want you. All of you. I want you as his full-time father, and I want your bed at night. And if I can’t have that, then I sure as hell won’t sit in the desert, waiting for my turn with the master.’

  ‘Aubrey, I would marry you tomorrow if I could but I cannot move mountains until I am King.’

  ‘Then call for the helicopter,’ Aubrey said. ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘We cannot leave now—here is the only place we can speak freely. Why do you think I went to such lengths to bring you to the desert?’

  ‘I want to go home,’ Aubrey insisted.

  ‘You cannot leave with nothing resolved.’

  ‘Nothing can be resolved, Khalid,’ Aubrey responded, ‘until you’re King. I won’t be your mistress in the meantime. Now, please, I want to go home to my son.’

  * * *

  ‘Your Highness.’ Laisha, who stood with an aide, was smiling as she met them in the VIP lounge. The helicopter ride had been a turbulent hell and now, as they came in from the rooftop, Aubrey stood in a hijab as his assistant approached with an aide, and she realised Khalid had been right to ask her to stay longer in the desert.

  Yet she had insisted she wanted to go home.

  Now!

  There was no chance of them speaking, there would be no final words. Their goodbyes, Aubrey now realised, should have been said in the desert.

  The Prince had been gone for twelve full hours and there was plenty Laisha had to brief him on. ‘The opening went so well, the feedback has been amazing.’

  Khalid wanted privacy. He wanted his royal suite and to convince Aubrey to stay, for it could not end like this.

  Except there were demands on his time.

  Always.

  ‘Exciting news.’ Laisha beamed. ‘The first baby has been born on the hundredth floor.’

  ‘Very good,’ Khalid said, although her words were all white noise to him.

  ‘Naomi Devereux had a little girl in the early hours. Abe has asked if you would call in.’

  ‘I don’t have time.’

  ‘But, Your Highness, I rescheduled for you.’

  ‘Very well,’ Khalid snapped. ‘Laisha, please give us a moment...’

  Laisha and the aide reluctantly stepped aside, but it was hardly private, and Aubrey very deliberately did not look up at him.

  They stood almost alone but it wasn’t enough, and Khalid looked at her huge blue eyes and he could not bear to let her go. Had she demanded his money, his time, his passion, he could have dealt with them all.

  But Aubrey insisted on his heart.

  Each corner of it.

  ‘Stay for a few days...’

  ‘No.’ She ached for Khalid, yet she ached for her baby, and her body was tired from last night, but most of all she was scared she would relent.

  She wanted his desert bed.

  And the balm of his kiss and to be made love to each night, and more of the beautiful dark babies they made.

  And she wanted his strength and to be cared for.

  No, it would be so dangerous to stay.

  ‘Aubrey?’

  ‘I can’t, Khalid. I’ve already been away long enough.’

  ‘Then at least think about what I have offered.’

  ‘I’ve told you the answer’s no,’ Aubrey said, and now she looked at him. And of all the difficult things about this strange and beautiful land, the hardest was that she could not touch him now, or lean on him, or kiss him goodbye. She heard the cough of the aide, hurrying them along, and she could feel Laisha’s nervousness, for they really should not be speaking alone.

  They could not touch.

  And yet he did.

  She closed her eyes at his soft, forbidden kiss. She tried to pull away, yet her body refused to deny her this last moment of bliss.

  He held her face as his mouth caressed hers and she was crying and shaking as his hand slid beneath the silk scarf and she felt his fingers soft on her neck.

  And not by a flicker did she flinch as the silver chain around her neck broke.

  ‘Trust me,’ Khalid said.

  ‘I want to.’ Oh, so badly she wanted to trust a man.

  This man.

  ‘Trust me,’ he said again. ‘I shall never stop striving to better us.’

  And then, because he had to, he let her go.

  Khalid watched as Aubrey left the sumptuous VIP room. He willed her to look back, to run back, but she did not.

  A purple-faced Laisha forced a smile. ‘Your Highness. Shall we make our way to the hundredth floor?’

  The aide was grim and no doubt itching to get back and tell the King, but Khalid didn’t care, for there was far more on his mind.

  Of course he must visit Naomi and Abe and do the right thing, but worlds were colliding as he took the elevator to the hundredth floor.

  ‘I can take it from here, thanks,’ Khalid said, and he shot the aide a withering look as the man took a seat with Laisha in one of the waiting rooms and Khalid made his way to the luxurious suite.

  A nurse was just leaving and Khalid realised he did not know how to smile as he walked in.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Khalid said, and shook hands with Abe.

  ‘Thanks,’ Abe said. ‘I have to admit I was nervous when Naomi went into labour, but she couldn’t have had better care. The facilities are amazing.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Khalid gave a tight smile.

  But then he looked at Naomi who sat up in bed, and he smiled naturally, for how could he not? She was cradling her tiny baby, wrapped in the softest pink blanket and just adoring her newborn infant.

  But then Khalid’s smile wavered and he felt closer to tears than he had in fourteen years and the one time he had cried. He had never been jealous in his life before, and certainly not of the Devereuxes. They were friends, more like family. But seeing Abe take the infant from Naomi, seeing the mother elated, tired and yet cared for, gnawed at his gut, for who had been there for Aubrey?

  Not him.

  ‘Here,’ Abe said, and deposited six tiny pounds of infant into his arms, and it was the heaviest load Khalid had ever held.

  She was so little and light and smelled as Hussain had that long-ago day when his mother had introduced his new brother to him.

  Khalid had seen Hussain even before the King had, and he’d looked at his baby brother and had vowed to protect him and keep him safe.


  And he remembered holding the tiny, motherless twins, two days after they had arrived.

  He had vowed the same to them.

  Now Khalid’s strong arms ached for Aayiz.

  ‘What is her name?’ Khalid asked, yet his voice came out all wrong, for it sounded as if he needed to clear his throat.

  Which he did.

  ‘Hannah,’ Naomi said. ‘It means favour or grace...’

  I have a son, Khalid wanted to say.

  But he did not.

  Instead he said and did the right things, but all he could think of was Aubrey, and that she had been through all this alone. And those thoughts led to little Aayiz, who surely he should vow to protect and keep safe too.

  Yet to do that required not just a mountain to be moved but the ravines and the sky too.

  Out in the corridor he took out the locket he had taken from Aubrey and his heart seemed to rise to his throat while his breath hitched as he stared at his son.

  His beautiful son, with black hair and caramel skin.

  And not just his son, but hers too.

  Aayiz had Aubrey’s eyes.

  And he wanted them here by his side.

  ‘Khalid?’ He was torn from his thoughts by a female voice, and for a second Khalid braced himself, expecting Laisha with more urgent appointments for him.

  But it was the mainland Queen.

  Alone.

  She wore black linen pants and a loose white shirt, and looked relaxed and happy.

  ‘Your Highness.’ Khalid was confused but supremely polite. ‘I trust all is well?’

  ‘Of course, Khalid. I asked for a private tour and I have been shown around. The nurse said to have a wander.’ She smiled. ‘It is gorgeous, I wish we had such a facility. I just said to my husband I would love to have the baby here.’

  ‘We would be proud if you chose to.’

  ‘And what about the King?’ the Queen said. ‘I am speaking of your father’s reaction if we had our child here, Khalid, not you.’

  ‘Well, you would be made most welcome.’ Though his heart was heavy he was actually glad of the chance to speak with the Queen. ‘I would like to apologise if I seemed rude last night.’

  ‘Of course not.’ She smiled. ‘It was a splendid night. I was too forward, enquiring about your future wife, when nothing has been announced.’

  Always Khalid faced her at long tables, or with aides present, but despite the constraints and the feuds in their countries’ histories, he had always found her quite charming.

  Progressive.

  When she had been crowned he had been pleased, and had always looked forward to the day they might work together for their respective people.

  While the cat’s away... He understood now what Aubrey had meant. In fact, it was as if she now stood next to him.

  He looked towards the vast floor-to-ceiling windows and the glittering view of the Arabian Sea, and he took...not really a gamble, rather he pressed fast forward on a dream.

  ‘You asked last night what my ideas for Al-Zahan were.’

  ‘Indeed I did.’ The Queen smiled. ‘But please, Khalid, don’t bore me with talk of hotels.’

  ‘I shan’t bore you.’

  He held up his hand, entwined within it a silver chain, and he pointed to the horizon beyond.

  And he told her what he saw in the future.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE KING LAUGHED.

  And Khalid had never once seen him do so.

  He laughed and he laughed and then he stopped laughing and glared at his son who dared defy him and insisted on choosing his own bride.

  ‘You are telling me that you want to marry a Vegas stripper and make her our Queen and that I am to approve it?’

  ‘Aubrey is a dancer.’

  ‘She is a stripper with a bastard child.’

  ‘Her name is Aubrey,’ Khalid said. ‘And my son’s name is Aayiz and they have my heart.’

  ‘Well, we don’t deal in hearts here,’ the King said coldly. ‘You have lost your mind, Khalid. What could this woman bring to Al-Zahan?’

  ‘So much,’ Khalid said. ‘She is fierce and she is forgiving, and understands people’s foibles yet does not judge, and she works harder than anyone I know.’

  ‘Khalid, I am weary of your constant delay to your duties. I am summoning the mystic and goldsmith and your bride shall be chosen by me.’

  ‘I have already chosen my bride,’ Khalid said.

  ‘Then you relinquish your right to the throne and it shall fall to Hussain.’

  Khalid stared at his father, saw his devious smile and loathed the man who would make Hussain’s nightmare come true. It was no idle threat, for the King called for his vizier. ‘In two sunsets there shall be a royal wedding. Bring me Sheikh Prince Hussain—’

  ‘I shall marry,’ Khalid said. ‘Send the goldsmith and the mystic to the dome, and tell them a bride is being chosen for Crown Prince Khalid.’

  He watched as the orders were given and as the door to the palace dome opened, cheers were let out across Al-Zahan, and it was announced that Crown Prince Khalid’s bride would soon be chosen and a wedding would be taking place.

  It was done.

  But not quite, for again he looked at his father, who thought he had got his way, and Khalid addressed him in a deep and even tone. ‘The saddest day of my mother’s life was when she was chosen by you...’

  ‘I made her Queen.’

  ‘You never made her feel like one, though.’

  He was calm and he was steady as at length he addressed the King. Only he did not pour oil on troubled waters.

  Instead, Khalid lit the fuse.

  * * *

  Aunt Carmel and her mom were sitting on the porch when Aubrey returned from Al-Zahan. She managed a wide smile and they kindly did not mention her red swollen eyes.

  ‘Haris might be awake,’ her mom said, but before she dashed inside, Aubrey corrected her.

  ‘Aayiz,’ Aubrey said. ‘He’s to be called Aayiz from now on. Haris is his middle name.’

  He wasn’t awake, but still Aubrey scooped him up and his face lit up with a smile when he saw that his mommy was here.

  ‘I love you, Aayiz,’ she told him, and she cried hot, angry tears on him, and then they changed to sad ones too for she knew a truth, even if Khalid did not. ‘Daddy loves you too. So, so much, but there are things that cannot be changed. One day, I’ll tell you how hard it must have been for him, how much he surely misses you...’

  Cradling her baby, she stepped into the living area and there was the pink domed palace on the news, and the inevitable view of the goldsmith and mystic stepping out.

  She felt sick, watching the ancient ritual, and listened as the excited journalist relayed that gold had successfully been removed from the dome last night, and that before the sun set a second time, a wedding must take place, or Al-Zahan would be no more.

  There was even a little countdown clock with twenty hours to go.

  And there was not a thing Aubrey could do, other than get on with living and providing for their beautiful son.

  And so that night, instead of lying on the bed and crying, as she wanted to, she dressed in a silver sequined leotard, put on her make-up and then kissed Aayiz goodbye, but her baby was fretful.

  ‘He’s teething,’ Mom said. ‘See how he’s chewing on his fingers.’

  ‘Should I get him something on the way home?’ Aubrey asked.

  ‘I’ll go now,’ Aunt Carmel said.

  Aubrey’s baby was looked after by so many, for his great-aunt would take a bus and go to the drug store, rather than have him cry in pain.

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ Stella reassured her daughter when Aubrey had to head off. ‘Don’t fret.’

  Yet Aayiz was not fine.

  He cried and he
fretted and his little cheeks turned red as he gnawed on his fingers and he cried into the night. When there was a knock on the door, Stella groaned in relief. ‘That will be Aunt Carmel,’ she crooned.

  Only it wasn’t.

  It was a man, dark and unshaven and in robes of silver, and Stella knew exactly who this was, for with one look she knew he could only be the father of the baby she held in her arms.

  ‘Get away!’ Stella shouted. ‘Get back...’

  ‘Ms Johnson,’ Khalid implored. ‘I am not here to take him, I am here to see Aubrey.’ But first he saw his son.

  His little Prince and the rightful heir. His heart cleaved at the sight of him. Stella saw the love in his eyes and after a moment’s stand-off invited him in.

  Khalid looked at the neat home, with pictures of Aubrey lining the walls, and a couple of Jobe too, and there were some of Aayiz and plenty of Stella before the fire had ravaged her face.

  ‘I came to ask your permission to ask Aubrey to be my wife.’

  ‘Your wife?’ Stella checked, and then she swallowed, for she knew now not just that this was her grandson’s father but she had worked out just who he was. After all, she had closely watched Jobe’s funeral on the news.

  ‘Yes, but first, before you answer me, may I hold my son?’

  Aayiz needed his father, for he instantly soothed to his strong embrace, and he looked up with recognition and already adored the man who held him.

  His crying hushed and he simply gazed, and Khalid would never again deny him, whatever the cost.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘HOW’S HARIS?’ ASKED her friends on her return to work.

  And Aubrey told them he would now be called Aayiz.

  ‘Are you okay?’ they checked.

  ‘Just tired.’

  Of course she was tired.

  They knew why Aayiz’s mother was working deep into the night—after all, many of them were doing the same.