Heir to a Dark Inheritance

by Maisey Yates

  He felt as if something was going to burst inside him. As if he was suddenly aware that there was a dam inside him—a great stone wall holding back the potential for torrential destruction.

  And he had to stop it. Had to shore it up with something. Something simple. Something he understood. He stood, his hand shaking, his heart thundering.

  Jada looked at Alik and froze. She realized in that moment what it was like to be a gazelle, stalked by a predator. Except she wasn’t going to run. She didn’t know why, only that she wouldn’t.

  Alik was looking at her as if he wanted her. More than wanted. As if he needed her. There was something dark and deadly in his eyes now. Something desperate. And she liked it, responded to it. It was different than the flat nothingness she usually saw there, different than that blasted false, shallow front he usually put on.

  In that moment, as his eyes met hers, everything fell away. Her present, her past. There was nothing but Alik, nothing but the intense, terrible ache he made her feel.

  This was frightening. This was real. And it was enticing. A black flame dancing in front of her. So beautiful she couldn’t look away, so dangerous she knew she had to. But she wouldn’t.

  Instead she reached out her hand and prepared to touch the fire.

  SECRET HEIRS

  OF POWERFUL MEN

  Their command is about to be challenged!

  Sheikh Sayid al Kadar and Alik Vasin

  might not be related by blood, but these

  brothers-in-arms forged an unbreakable bond

  in the line of duty.

  They’ve fought for their countries,

  for their lives, but has that readied their hearts

  for what could be the biggest battle of them all…?

  HEIR TO A DESERT LEGACY

  April 2013

  Sheikh Sayid discovers that his brother

  is survived by a son, and he’ll do anything to

  recover the true heir to the throne. Even if it means

  taking on the child’s aunt; she’s like a lioness

  who insists on fighting him every step of the way!

  HEIR TO A DARK INHERITANCE

  May 2013

  When Alik’s wayward past comes back to haunt him,

  he’ll ensure that his young daughter will grow up

  with a childhood nothing like his own.

  But one woman is standing in his way,

  and there may be only one solution…to marry her!

  About the Author

  MAISEY YATES was an avid Mills & Boon® Modern™ Romance reader before she began to write them. She still can’t quite believe she’s lucky enough to get to create her very own sexy alpha heroes and feisty heroines. Seeing her name on one of those lovely covers is a dream come true.

  Maisey lives with her handsome, wonderful, diaper-changing husband and three small children across the street from her extremely supportive parents and the home she grew up in, in the wilds of Southern Oregon, USA. She enjoys the contrast of living in a place where you might wake up to find a bear on your back porch and then heading into the home office to write stories that take place in exotic urban locales.

  Recent titles by the same author:

  HEIR TO A DESERT LEGACY

  (Secret Heirs of Powerful Men)

  HER LITTLE WHITE LIE

  AT HIS MAJESTY’S COMMAND

  (The Call of Duty)

  A GAME OF VOWS

  Did you know these are also available as eBooks?

  Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Heir to a

  Dark Inheritance

  Maisey Yates

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  To Jackie Ashenden,

  my writing lifeline and lover of my dark heroes.

  Thank you for always encouraging me.

  PROLOGUE

  ALIK VASIN DOWNED the last of the vodka in his glass and waited for the buzz to make it to his brain. Nothing. It was going to take a lot more alcohol tonight. To have some fun. To feel something.

  Either that, or it was going to take a woman. And since that was next on his agenda, he figured he might as well skip the alcohol.

  Alik pushed away from the bar and wove through the crush of bodies on the dance floor. The music was so loud there, the bass so heavy he could feel it in his blood. There would be no way to have a conversation with anyone in here. Which was fine by him. He wasn’t looking for a talk.

  It didn’t take long for him to spot a woman who wasn’t looking to talk, either.

  He approached the blonde skirting the edges of the dance floor. She smiled. Ah yes, he’d found the evening’s entertainment. No doubt about it.

  He moved closer and she extended her hand, her fingers brushing his chest. Forward. He liked that. She might even be the kind who wouldn’t want to wait to get to the hotel room.

  His pocket buzzed and he reached inside and wrapped his hand around his phone. In his experience, women didn’t like being thrown over for a phone call, but if his checking it chased her off, another one would come along in just a few moments. If he didn’t want to go to bed alone tonight, he wouldn’t.

  He took the phone from his pocket and saw a number he didn’t recognize. Anyone who managed to contact him from a number he didn’t know was important.

  He held his finger up, an indicator he wanted the woman to wait. She might. She might not. He didn’t really care.

  He answered the call just before pushing the door open and put the phone up to his ear as he stepped out onto a crowded street in downtown Brussels. A group of women walked by and offered him inviting looks. He might keep an eye out for which club they went to, rather than going back to the blonde waiting for him inside.

  He put the phone up to his ear. “Vasin.”

  And suddenly the cobblestones didn’t feel so steady under his feet. He had to wonder if the vodka had finally started working. If it was the cause of the buildings appearing to close in around him. Of the tightness in his chest. If it was making him hear things. If he was imagining what the woman on the other end of the line was saying.

  But no. He wasn’t. Yes, he was Alik Vasin. Yes, he had been in that region of the United States more than a year earlier.

  He stood still for a moment, waited for the earth to right itself beneath his feet. Everything fell away in pieces. The clubs. The women. And he could no longer remember why he was there, on a dark street in Brussels.

  There was only the phone call.

  Adrenaline shot through his veins. The jolt he’d been missing all night. He would not freeze up. He was not that kind of man. He acted.

  Alik hung up and stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking quickly away from the club, his steps heavy and loud on the cobblestone. He had to get to the airport. Had to get to a lab so he could get confirmation.

  He took his phone out of his pocket, searching for Sayid’s number. His friend would know what to say. Would know what to tell him.

  Because it wasn’t the vodka. It was just the truth. He knew it, deep in his bones.

  He was a father.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “DID YOU REALLY THINK you could keep my child from me?”

  Jada stopped on the courthouse steps, the hair on her arms standing on end, the back of her neck prickling with cold sweat. It was the voice of her most dreaded nightmare. A voice she’d never heard before outside of her dreams, and yet she knew that it was him.

  Alik Vasin.

  A stranger. The man with the power to come in and rip the beating heart from her chest if he chose to do so. The man with the power to devastate her life.

  The father of her daughter.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jada said, inching
up the stairs that led to the courthouse. But she knew. She absolutely knew, and apparently he did, too.

  “You had the court date changed.”

  “I had to change it,” she said, defiant, confident in her lie. It didn’t feel wrong, or even like a lie, not when she’d told it to protect her child. Jada had spent her life behaving, following the rules, but there were no rules for this situation. There was no right, no wrong. There was only need. The need to keep Leena with her.

  “And you thought that since I had to travel halfway around the world on short notice, I would be forced to miss it. Too bad for you I have a private jet.”

  He didn’t look like the kind of man who owned a private jet. He didn’t look like a man ready for a court hearing. He was wearing low-slung jeans, held onto his lean hips with a thick belt. He had a rumpled button-up shirt on that somehow looked all the better for being wrinkled, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows, revealing muscular forearms. And aviator sunglasses. Like he was some sort of rock star or something.

  He turned his hand and adjusted the buckle on his watch, revealing a dark tattoo, an anchor, on the underside of his wrist. She wondered, briefly, how much something like that had hurt. She wondered what it said about him. He was danger personified, and just looking at him made a shiver course through her body.

  On the plus side, his blatant lack of regard for convention made her feel more and more confident about her chances. She’d had Leena in her custody for a year, after all. And this man, her father, had no claim on her beyond the genetic.

  Blood was certainly thicker than water, but dirty diapers trumped blood. And she had changed more than her share of those over the past year.

  He looked at his watch. “Looks like I’ve made it with time to spare. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  “Don’t rush,” Jada said. She took a seat in one of the chairs that lined the door outside of the family courtroom. She wished she could hold Leena right now, but Leena was with the social worker. Jada’s arms felt empty. She picked her purse up from the floor, her phone out of one of the pockets, opened an app and played it mindlessly. She just needed to keep her hands busy. And her mind vacant.

  “Good. I didn’t miss anything.”

  She looked up and a swear word rushed out of her mouth. He looked…it wasn’t fair how he looked. He was in a black suit, open at the collar, everything fitted perfectly to his well-muscled physique. The dark fabric poured over him like liquid, flowing with his movements, revealing strength, power. He looked like the sort of man who got what he wanted with the snap of a finger. The kind of man who had women falling at his feet with a glance.

  He’d gone from rumpled traveler to James Flipping Bond in ten seconds flat.

  Although, Bond was always fighting the Russians, so maybe he was more of a Bond villain.

  “I see you decided to dress for the occasion,” she said.

  He’d removed the sunglasses, and for the first time she could see his eyes. They were somewhere between blue and gray, like the sea during a storm.

  “It seemed the thing to do,” he said, his lips quirking up into a smile. He seemed entirely unruffled, as if the outcome of this didn’t matter to him at all. It meant everything to her. This, Leena, was her entire life. All she had left.

  “It seemed the thing to do? Well, I suppose it’s good that going out for Chinese food didn’t seem the thing to do at the moment instead. Is that all she is to you? Just…is this just an experiment for you? Why did you even bother to show up?”

  “She’s my daughter,” he said, his tone betraying no emotion, no concern. Just stating a fact. “That means I must claim responsibility for her.”

  “Responsibility? Is that what she is to you?”

  She caught a hint of steel in his eyes. “She’s my blood. Not yours.”

  Jada snorted and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I’ve only raised her from the time she was born. What do I matter?” She didn’t know where this strength was coming from. She only knew she had it, and she had to use it. There was no one standing behind her. No one on her side. No one but herself.

  “I didn’t know about her,” he said.

  “Because her mother thought you were dead. And why did she think that? Did you tell her you were going off on some secret mission? That’s the sort of thing a man like you might say to get a woman into bed.”

  “If I told her that, it was true,” he said.

  She blinked. “If? You don’t remember?”

  He shrugged. “Not specifically.”

  And then her brain caught up with the rest of his claim. “And you were on a mission of some kind?”

  “How old is the child?”

  Jada blinked. “You don’t know?”

  “I know nothing about this,” he said. “I got a phone call while I was in Brussels, telling me that if I didn’t come and claim a child I didn’t know I had by a certain date, I would lose my rights to her forever. Then I went and got testing done to confirm that I am in fact the father, and I am, just so you know. Then yesterday I got a letter saying my parental rights would be terminated and she would be adopted to someone else if I failed to come to a hearing that had been moved to today.”

  “She’s one. She just had her birthday.” Just the two of them in Jada’s little house, on the same street where she’d lived for eight years. “Where were you a little over a year and a half ago?”

  His mouth twitched. “Near here. I was in Portland seeing to some business.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Ah. Business.”

  “I can’t talk about the exact nature of it.”

  Disgust filled her. He was the sort of man she’d been blessed never to have had any interaction with. She’d married too young and her husband had been completely decent. She didn’t think men like this, men who bed-hopped with zero discrimination, were real outside of terrible movies. “I can guess. I’ve been caring for the results of that business.”

  One brow shot upward. “Just an added bonus to my trip. I’m not a sex tourist.”

  Jada blinked, heat rushing into her cheeks. “You are direct, aren’t you?”

  “And you are prickly. And extremely judgmental.”

  And not accustomed to people who were so comfortable talking about their bad behavior. He seemed to wear it like a badge of honor. “You’re here to take my child from me—what reaction did you want me to have to you?”

  He looked at their surroundings. They were the only two people in the antechamber. “I didn’t anticipate being stuck in the lobby with you, I have to say.”

  “And yet you are. Answer me this…what does a man who travels the world, doing Lord knows what, want with a baby? Do you have a wife?” She hoped not, all things considered.

  “No.”

  “Other children?”

  “Not as far as I know,” he said, a smile that could only be described as naughty curving his lips. “Clearly these things can surprise you.”

  “Not most people, Mr. Vasin,” she bit out. “So, why do you want her?”

  It was a good question. One Alik didn’t know the answer to. All he knew was that if he turned and walked away, if he never met her, never made sure she was cared for, if he left her to fight her way through life as he’d had to do, then there would officially be no hell hot enough for him.

  Forgetting about the phone call had crossed his mind. Not making it to the hearing had crossed his mind. But with each thought had come a twinge in his chest, a brand on a conscience he hadn’t known he’d possessed.

  He didn’t particularly want her. But no matter what, he found he couldn’t leave, either.

  He gave the only answer he had. “Because she is mine.”

  “Hardly a good reason.”

  “Why do you want her so badly, Ms. Patel?” he asked, returning her formality. “She is not your child, no matter how you feel.”

  “Is that so? Blood relation, even to a stranger, is more important than the care that’s been given? Is th
at how you see it?”

  Alik looked down at the woman in front of him, all fire and passion. Beautiful, and if it was any other situation, his thoughts might have turned to seduction. Black, glossy hair, golden skin and honey-colored eyes, combined with a petite and perfect figure, made her a very tempting package.

  Though, at the moment she was also a dangerous one. She was tiny, barely reaching the middle of his chest and yet she did not fear him. She seemed ready to physically attack him if need be.

  Not in the way he would like, he imagined.

  “It is not an emotional matter,” he said. “It is black-and-white in my eyes. I am her father. You are not her mother.”

  She drew back, a cobra preparing to strike. “How dare you?”

  “Mr. Vasin? Ms. Patel?” A small woman in a black jacket and slacks opened the door and poked her head out. “We’re ready for you both.”

  As Mr. Vasin is here and clearly of sound mind, and, having submitted to a paternity test, has proven to be the father, we have no reason not to release his child into his custody.

  Jada replayed the last ten minutes of the hearing in her mind, over and over again. The judge was sorry, the caseworkers regretful. But there was simply no reason why Leena shouldn’t be with her father. Her billionaire father, as it turned out, which she knew had bearing on the ruling regardless of what anyone said.

  How could it not? Jada was a housewife with no spouse to support her. Her only source of income came from her late husband’s life insurance settlement and as generous as it was, it wasn’t a billion dollars.

  That, combined with the irrefutable proof of his paternity, when it was made clear that he had been wronged, the victim of a misunderstanding, had meant Jada hadn’t had a case. Not in anyone else’s mind. In hers, she had the only case that mattered. But no one else cared.

  And now, Leena was with this Alik Vasin, in a private room so the two of them could get to know each other. Have an introduction. They couldn’t let Jada take Leena with her. She was a flight risk. Another thing everyone was very regretful about.