Wed for His Secret Heir

by Chantelle Shaw

  Ava listened to the torrent of emotion that spilled from Giannis. It was as if a dam had burst and his feelings—his love for her—poured out, healing her hurt and filling her with joy.

  ‘Oh, Giannis. Darling Giannis.’ She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. ‘The only way you could ever hurt me is if you stop loving me. The only place I want to be is with you, because I love you so much.’

  ‘Really?’ The uncertainty in his voice tore Ava’s heart. She put her hands on either side of his face. ‘You have to learn to forgive yourself and believe me when I say that you deserve to be happy and loved by me and your son and the family that we will create together.’

  ‘Ava,’ he groaned as he pulled her into his heat and fire and held her so close that she felt the thunderous beat of his heart. ‘S’agapó, kardiá mou. I love you, my heart. My sweet love.’

  He kissed her then—wondrously, as if she was everything he had ever wanted or would ever need. And she kissed him with all the love in her heart and her tears of happiness mingled with his as he threaded his fingers through her hair and gently eased her back against the pillows.

  ‘We will never have secrets,’ Giannis murmured between kisses.

  Ava smiled. ‘Did I hear you say in the ambulance that you would tell me every day how much you love me, or did I dream it?’

  ‘It was no dream, kardiá mou. It was a promise that I intend to keep for ever.’

  EPILOGUE

  THEY TOOK ANDREAS to Spetses when he was four weeks old. Despite his traumatic birth he was a strong and healthy baby with a good set of lungs, his father noted ruefully at two o’clock one morning. Ava recovered remarkably quickly and was delighted to be able to fit into her jeans two months after her son’s birth. Her confidence in Giannis’s love grew stronger with every day, and the first time they made love again was deeply emotional as they showed with their bodies their adoration for each other.

  Life could not be better, Ava thought one afternoon as she pushed Andreas in his pram around the garden of Villa Delphine. Giannis had reluctantly gone to his office in Athens, but he’d called her a while ago to say that he was on his way home. ‘Your patera will be here soon,’ she said to Andreas and when he gave her a gummy smile she told him that both the Gekas males in her life had stolen her heart.

  Her spirits dipped when she saw Giannis’s mother walking across the lawn. Filia’s waspish expression softened as she looked in the pram. ‘My grandson grows bigger every time I see him,’ she commented, and Ava felt guilty that she did not invite her mother-in-law to Villa Delphine as often as she should. The visits were always strained and she knew that Giannis found his mother difficult.

  ‘Where is my son?’ Filia demanded. ‘Giannis promised weeks ago that he would arrange for his private jet to fly me to Italy so I can visit my daughter, but I still have not heard when the trip will be. I suppose he has forgotten about me.’

  ‘Giannis has been busy at work lately, and he spends as much time as he can with Andreas, but I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten about your trip,’ Ava explained.

  ‘No doubt he expects me to take a commercial flight. He is so wealthy, but he gives me nothing.’

  Ava nearly choked. She knew that Giannis had bought his mother the beautiful house she lived in on Spetses, and he paid for her living expenses and her numerous holidays. ‘I don’t think you are being fair to him,’ she murmured.

  Filia snorted. ‘It isn’t fair that I have spent the last fifteen years a widow, thanks to Giannis.’ She gave Ava a sharp look. ‘I suppose he has told you that he was responsible for his father’s death?’

  * * *

  Giannis froze with his hand on the gate which led into the garden. He knew that the tall hedge screened him from Ava and his mother, who were standing some way across the lawn. But he could see them and he could hear their voices.

  ‘Giannis told me what happened sixteen years ago.’ Ava’s voice was as cool and clear as a mountain stream. ‘I know that he loved his father very much, and his grief has been made worse by his feelings of guilt. It breaks my heart to know that he can’t forgive himself,’ she said softly.

  Hidden behind the hedge, Giannis brushed a hand over his wet eyes.

  ‘Why do you defend him?’ he heard his mother ask.

  ‘Because he made a terrible mistake that I know he has regretted every day since the accident. It was an accident with devastating consequences, but it was an accident. I know that the man I love is a good and honourable man.’

  ‘So you do love him?’ Filia said with a snort. ‘You did not marry him because he is rich?’

  ‘I married Giannis because I love him with all my heart, and I’d love him if he didn’t have a penny to his name.’ Ava’s fierce voice carried across the garden. ‘What happened in the past was tragic, but it is also a tragedy that you have not forgiven your own son.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Your constant criticism of Giannis has to stop, or I am afraid that you will no longer be welcome at Villa Delphine to visit Andreas.’

  His wife was a warrior, Giannis thought, shaken to his core by Ava’s defence of him. She was amazing. He opened the gate and strode across the garden. His footsteps were noiseless on the soft grass, but his mother was facing him and she immediately appealed to him.

  ‘I hope you will not allow your wife to threaten to withhold my grandson from me? Say something to her, Giannis.’

  ‘There are many things I want to say to Ava. But I will speak to her alone. Leave us, please,’ he told his mother curtly. She opened her mouth to argue but, after looking at his expression, she clearly thought better of it and without another word she turned and walked out of the garden.

  ‘I’m sorry if I upset your mother,’ Ava said ruefully. ‘But I meant what I said. I won’t let her upset you. What are you doing?’ she asked as Giannis pushed the pram across the garden and into the summer house.

  ‘The bedroom is too far away for what I have in mind,’ he murmured as he pulled her into his arms.

  Her eyes widened when he pressed his aching arousal against her pelvis. ‘Mmm—what exactly do you have in mind?’

  ‘I want to make love to you, darling heart,’ Giannis said thickly. ‘But first I need to tell you how much I love you, and thank you for loving me and for giving me our gorgeous son.’ He tugged the straps of her sundress down and roamed his hands over her body.

  ‘You are so beautiful, so perfect. Mine, for eternity.’ He threw the cushions from the garden furniture onto the floor and laid her down before covering her body with his. And there he made love to her with fierce passion and a tenderness that made Ava realise that dreams could come true.

  ‘Eternity sounds perfect,’ she agreed.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed WED FOR HIS SECRET HEIR by Chantelle Shaw, you’re sure to enjoy these other SECRET HEIRS OF BILLIONAIRES stories!

  THE SECRET THE ITALIAN CLAIMS

  by Jennie Lucas

  CLAIMING HIS HIDDEN HEIR

  by Carol Marinelli

  THE GREEK’S SECRET SON

  by Julia James

  KIDNAPPED FOR THE TYCOON’S BABY

  by Louise Fuller

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  Sheikh’s Baby of Revenge

  by Tara Pammi

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’M ADIR AL-ZABAH, Your Highness, Sheikh of the Dawab and Peshani tribes.”

  He had no respect for the old king, for a man who subjugated and forced a woman—a weaker being—to bend to his will.

  But Adir added a half bow to his greeting. Savage though he might be in comparison to the royal siblings Princes Zufar and Malak and Princess Galila, he knew customs and traditions.

  Adir Al-Zabah stared at King Tariq of Khalia, watching like a hawk that soared the vast expanse of his desert abode, waiting for a flicker of recognition in the sorrow-filled eyes.

  It was sorrow he recognized, wretched and absolute—something he had spied in his own reflection since he had heard the news of Queen Namani’s death.

  The genuine quality of it shocked him—one glimpse into King Tariq’s eyes was enough to understand that he had loved his wife.

  Any sympathy Adir might have felt died under the resentment festering in his veins. He himself had not even been granted the right to mourn her publicly, the opportunity to honor her with the last rites.

  He’d been denied the chance to set eyes on her even once in his life.

  His last blood connection, gone in the flicker of a sunset. There would be no more letters telling him he was cherished, reminding him of the place he had left unclaimed for so long.

  He was finally, completely alone in the world.

  And all because of this king.

  While King Tariq stared back at him with confusion clouding his eyes, one of the princes moved forward, blocking the sight of the old king’s bowed form, as if to shield the pitiful sight of his father from Adir’s eyes.

  “I’m Crown Prince Zufar. If you have come to pay your final respects to Queen Namani, to pledge your allegiance to King Tariq—” Zufar’s words were filled with a resentment that mirrored Adir’s own, making Adir frown “—then consider it acknowledged.”

  Adir gritted his teeth. “I am the ruling Sheikh of the Dawab and Peshani tribes. We’re independent tribes, Your Highness.” He injected every ounce of mockery he felt into that address. “I do not acknowledge your or your king’s authority over our tribes. Our way of living knows no liege.”

  Something almost like admiration glinted in Prince Zufar’s eyes. Gone in the blink of an eye, it left Adir to wonder if he had only imagined it. Was he that desperate for a familial connection?

  “This is a private time of mourning for the royal family. If you’re not here to pay your respects, why did you request an audience with my father?”

  Having to go through this man who had everything Adir had been denied grated like the rub of sand on an open wound. “It is the king’s company I requested. Not yours.”

  Satisfaction glinted in Zufar’s eyes, satisfaction that he had the right to deny Adir this. Or anything he could ask for. “My father is...swimming in his grief over his queen’s death.”

  His queen’s death, not my mother’s death, thought Adir. The crown prince’s words were revealing.

  There was no...grief in the prince’s eyes for his mother’s death, unlike in his father’s. No tenderness when he spoke of her. “He has not been in his right mind for several...months now.”

  Adir tilted his head in the direction of Prince Malak and Princess Galila. He didn’t want to feel pity, he didn’t want to consider the fragility of their feelings so soon after their mother’s death. And yet he found himself doing just that. “You would have me open a cupboard full of skeletons in front of your younger siblings?” he added silkily.

  Zufar paled under his dark, olive skin. Not that his arrogance dimmed even a bit. “Threats will get you nowhere, Sheikh Adir.”

  “So be it. I’m your... I’m Queen Namani’s son.”

  The statement he had repeated so many times to himself, in his own head, now reverberated in the chilling silence that ensued. A soft gasp emerged from the princess’s mouth while Prince Malak scowled.

  The antagonism in Zufar’s eyes multiplied a thousand fold, roped with disbelief and a flash of fleeting pain.

  Adir shifted his feet to gain a glimpse of King Tariq. His shoulders bowed, the old man stared at Adir searchingly. As if he could find a glimpse of his beloved wife, Adir realized with a frown. “Namani’s son? But—”

  “Do not deny it, Your Highness. The truth shines in your eyes.”

  Accusation painted every tense line of Zufar’s body. “Father?”

  But King Tariq couldn’t shift his gaze from Adir. “You’re Namani’s son? The child she—”

  “The newborn you banished to the vagaries of the desert, yes. The child you separated from its mother.”

  “You’re our brother?” Princess Galila interjected. “But why—”

  “Namani...she had an affair...” King Tariq stuttered.

  “She fell in love with another man and was punished for it.” Adir didn’t pull his punches.

  The king’s face crumpled.

  “And what is it that you want, on the eve of her death, Sheikh Adir?” Prince Zufar said coldly.

  “I want what my mother wanted for me.”

  “How would you know what Queen Namani...what she wanted for you if you’ve never met her?” Princess Galila asked, her tone feather-soft.

  “She was forced to give me up but she did not abandon me.”

  Prince Malak who had been calmly watching the proceedings until now moved to stand beside his father. “What do you mean, she did not abandon you?” A caustic laugh fell from his mouth. “What is it that the queen gave you that makes you talk of her as if you knew her?”

  His gaze swept over the royal siblings and Adir frowned. He was missing something. They did not pounce to defend their mother’s memory. No other interest showed on their faces except the shadow of fear about what he would ask.

  “I did know her. Somehow, she found a way to keep in touch with me. She wrote me over the years, encouraged me to rise in the world. Told me how much she...cared for me. Told me what my place is in this world. It is proof enough,” Adir replied, choosing his words with cutting precision. “Every year on my birthday, she wrote letters and made sure they reached me. Letters telling me who I was.”

  “She wrote to you? The queen?”

  “By her own hand.”

  “What do you want, Sheikh Adir? Why are you here?”

  Adir faced Prince Zufar, determination running in his veins. “I want the king’s acknowledgment that I’m Queen Namani’s son. I want the world to know that I’m royal-born. I want my rightful place in Khalia’s lineage.”

  “No.” Zufar’s tone rang out before Adir had barely finished. “All it will cause is a scandal.”

  He glanced at his father’s form, his faraway gaze. Despite himself, Adir felt a stirring of pity for the old king. It was clear that he mourned his queen with all his heart.

  “My father will become a laughingstock of the entire country if your origins com
e out. She—” He broke off. “I will not let her selfish actions scandalize our family now, even after she’s gone. As if she hasn’t caused us enough harm. If you’re the great sheikh your tribes claim you to be, you’ll understand that I have to put Khalia first. There is no place for you here, Sheikh Adir.”

  “I would like to hear it from the king.”

  “My decision is the king’s decision. I will not bring scandal to our house by declaring to the world what my mother has done.”

  “And if I refuse to follow your dictates?”

  “Be careful, Sheikh Adir. You’re threatening the crown prince.”

  “Are you worried that I will want to rule Khalia, Prince Zufar? That I will ask for a slice of your immense fortune? Because if so, then let me tell you, I have no intention of taking anything from you. I have no use for your wealth. All I want is recognition.”

  “And you will not have it, not as long as I’m alive. You are nothing but my mother’s dirty secret, a stain on our family.”

  The words came at Adir like invisible punches, all the more lethal for the truth in them that he had always tried to fight.

  He was her dirty secret, banished to the desert without a second thought. “Watch your words, Prince Zufar. They carry heavy consequences.”

  “Have you not wondered why she asked you to claim your right only after she was gone? Why she wrote to you but never confided in us that we have a brother?”

  “She was protecting you and the reputation of the royal family. She was—”

  “Queen Namani—” Prince Zufar’s words came through gritted teeth “—was a selfish woman who thought of nothing and no one but herself. Writing to you, I am sure, was nothing more than indulging in childish sulking. Behaving without considering the consequences...to you, to her or to any of us. It was cruel to lure you here when she knew nothing could come of it.”

  “And if I spill the truth anyway?” Adir hated the bitterness in his tone, cringed inwardly at the fear in the king’s eyes. For years, he had watched his mother’s family from afar. His mother’s words about how spoiled they were, how undeserving of all the respect and privilege that were their due, had festered in his blood. “If I tell the world anyway?”