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

by Carol Marinelli

  But, of course, Aubrey didn’t say any of that.

  She had nothing left in the tank. Fuelled on no sleep and a single granola bar, suddenly she felt a little sick and also terribly close to tears when Chantelle, her eyes bulging, finally snapped. ‘Who exactly are you?’

  Aubrey could feel all the eyes on her. She had no idea what to say and was ruing her decision to come. Her heart felt as if it had moved up to her throat and she wanted to turn and run.

  Khalid could feel her silent agony as she stood before the inquisition.

  While his brief was to protect the Devereux family from Aubrey, his instinct was suddenly to protect her from them. As much as he loved them, Khalid knew their might and, aware of their ruthlessness with outsiders, he stepped in. ‘Aubrey is here with me.’

  Aubrey blinked as he spoke and dared not turn to him; instead she watched as Chantelle turned from angry, to confused, to mollified, right before her eyes.

  ‘Oh...’ Chantelle’s pursed lips parted in surprise. ‘I must apologise. I didn’t realise.’

  ‘Why would you, Chantelle?’ Khalid responded. ‘I never discuss my private life.’

  ‘So, how long have you two been—?’ Chantelle persisted, but Khalid would not be interrogated by anyone and interrupting the question he turned to Aubrey. ‘Come on.’

  Oh, the blessed relief of walking out of the wake with Khalid by her side where it felt no harm could come to her. She liked it that he did not take her hand or snake an arm around her waist, just because the scenario he’d created possibly meant he could, and in the foyer Aubrey turned and faced him, and was suddenly shy. ‘Thank you for that.’

  ‘It’s no problem.’

  ‘I just didn’t know what to say...’

  ‘You don’t have to explain your dealings with Jobe to me.’

  Dealings? Aubrey frowned at his choice of word, unsure quite what he meant. ‘Well, thanks again.’ She offered her hand and perhaps that was the wrong thing to do, for he did not accept it, though for a reason Aubrey hadn’t thought of—‘Isn’t that a little formal when we’re supposed to be a couple? Chantelle is just over there.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ She nodded and pulled her hand back, and then nerves caught up and generated the most stupid thing Aubrey could possibly say. ‘Perhaps I should have kissed you instead?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Khalid responded.

  She flushed in embarrassment at her stupid words but then he stepped in and saved her there to. ‘Aubrey, even were you my date there would be no affection between us and Chantelle would know that.’

  ‘Oh.’ She smiled in relief and even made a little joke. ‘So, no public displays of affection. Noted.’

  Khalid was about to correct her—no, no affection. Period.

  But that would have led them into dangerous waters indeed, for she might ask him to clarify just what he’d meant by that.

  And Khalid would love to clarify.

  They stood in a busy foyer, yet it felt as if only they two were there. There was warmth in the air between them and there was an awareness too great to share with a stranger on a funeral type of afternoon.

  Khalid realised then that he had been wrong earlier about her wearing too much blusher, for colour now spread on her pale cheeks. He understood the effect was because of him. Or, rather, them. For though Khalid did not blush, of course, there was heat elsewhere. The effect of Aubrey on him had been unexpected, for she was not to his usual, sophisticated, taste.

  And, as they stood there, Aubrey found that she wanted to know the name of his scent, and to know how the silk of his suit felt to touch. And she wished now that he had snaked a hand around her waist, just to know brief physical contact with this imposing man. And for Aubrey, those feelings were so unfamiliar that suddenly she had to get away.

  He was simply too much.

  The whole day had been too much and the antibiotics had made her feel sick. She felt overwhelmed and, not so much dizzy, more that she just had to sit down, so she flicked her eyes from his gaze and thanked him again.

  ‘My pleasure.’

  Such a rare pleasure, Aubrey thought as she went and sat on one of the plush lobby chairs and tried to summon the energy for the journey home.

  Well, not home—her night would be spent at the airport. Aubrey was just wondering how long she could stretch out sitting here before being moved on when she saw his dark suited legs and even without looking up she just knew it was him.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

  ‘I will be.’ She nodded. ‘I just needed to sit down.’

  ‘Are you staying locally?’

  ‘No, I’m headed for the airport,’ Aubrey said, a little taken aback when he sat down on one of the plump seats beside her.

  ‘What time is your flight?’

  ‘Nine.’ She didn’t add that it was at nine a.m. tomorrow but she could see concern in his eyes. ‘I’m just a bit wiped.’

  ‘Perhaps because you haven’t eaten?’

  ‘I have, there was loads of food...’

  ‘No,’ Khalid said, surprising himself that he had noticed, but he had seen her decline the hors d’oeuvres each time the waiters had come around. ‘You didn’t eat anything.’

  ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘My stomach was in knots.’

  ‘Would you like me to have something brought to you...?’ He was about to raise his hand and summon someone, but she halted him.

  ‘Really, I’m fine, just a little tired—I’m getting over an ear infection and I flew through the night to get here.’

  Khalid lived a luxurious life, but did understand that not everyone travelled in the style that he did. She was, he guessed, more than a little tired. He watched as she managed to stand and he glanced at her shoes, which were slightly too large, and then up to her face, which was suddenly slightly too pale.

  ‘Well, it was nice meeting you,’ Aubrey said, and all Khalid knew was that he did not want her walking off, weary, hungry and sad.

  ‘Wait,’ Khalid said, and of course she swung around. And now he had to think of a reason for calling her back. ‘Aubrey, do you want to go for a lie down?’ He saw the flare in her clear blue eyes and immediately realised she had misinterpreted his words. He didn’t blame her, for even Khalid was having difficulty qualifying what he had just said.

  ‘Excuse me. What I meant was that my suite will be vacant for a couple of hours.’ She gave an owl-like blink of her huge blue eyes that forced Khalid to explain better. ‘I have to see the family back to the house, then stay for drinks and, no doubt, dissect who was who at the funeral...’

  ‘Such as me,’ Aubrey said, and for a second she thought she saw a flicker of a smile grace his lips, but then decided that she must have imagined it for that glimmer had gone.

  ‘I have already explained to them that you are with me.’ Khalid could not quite believe he had offered her the use of his suite. Even his lovers did not get freedom to roam like that. Yet she moved him in unexpected ways. ‘You are more than welcome to use my suite for a couple of hours before you go to the airport.’

  God, but a lie down sounded nice, Aubrey thought, and then remembered she hadn’t been born yesterday. ‘I don’t think—’

  But he interrupted her. ‘The choice is yours. I doubt I shall be back till late this evening, so there would be plenty of time for a sleep before you head off.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘My role today is to take care of Jobe’s friends and I believe you are one of them.’

  ‘But why would you trust me?’

  ‘Trust you?’ he checked.

  Aubrey saw his frown and wondered if she had used a word he did not comprehend. ‘I might trash the room, take off with your things,’ she explained further.

  But, no, Khalid knew very well what she’d meant. ‘Why would you do that, Aubr
ey?’

  He was so measured.

  And so very withheld.

  Aubrey didn’t even know what she meant by withheld, except that was the word that sprang to her mind.

  He did not jump to provocation.

  It was as if nothing could possibly faze him but, most importantly, he did not faze her. Oh, Khalid was overwhelming to her senses, and more male than any man she had ever met, but there was not so much as a flicker of fear making itself known. And while heading up to a stranger’s bed might seem less than wise, it certainly beat lying on the airport floor. As well as that, Aubrey had been born with a radar attached.

  It was how she survived.

  With Khalid there were no red flags waving and Jobe had clearly thought the world of him.

  There was something else, though—this man intrigued her. From the way he had stepped in and saved her from Chantelle’s inquisition. The way he had offered her food.

  And now rest.

  Aubrey didn’t trust men.

  As a little girl her mom had told her to put a chair against her bedroom door at night and as a not much older girl she had stood on a stool to get ice for her mom’s bruises from the freezer.

  Khalid, she was aware, brought down her defences, for she wanted to trust this man.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, and her voice was a little croaky and the flush was back to her cheeks as she graciously accepted his kind offer. ‘But only if you’re sure?’

  ‘Of course.’ He handed her a card for the suite and told her the floor. ‘If you’re gone when I get back—’ He was interrupted by the shrill call of his name.

  ‘Khalid!’

  ‘Yes, Chantelle.’

  And he gave Aubrey the tiniest eye-roll before he turned to the approaching woman; he shared with her his irritation.

  It was like being handed the sun.

  ‘We’re heading back to the house,’ Chantelle said. ‘Aubrey, I do hope you’ll come...’

  Best friends now, Aubrey thought, but Khalid swiftly dealt with the invitation.

  ‘Aubrey shall not be joining us. She has a headache.’ He met her eyes and instead of the sun offered her gold. ‘Rest now.’

  As simply as that, Aubrey escaped.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SHE TOOK THE elevator to the designated floor and then found the necessary door, and stepped into heaven.

  Through arch windows Central Park beckoned lush and green against a stunning blue sky, but it would have to wait for her inspection as she took in her surroundings.

  There were powder-blue velvet sofas arranged around a huge, ornate fireplace, and the ceilings were so high that, not for the first time in this city, Aubrey chose to look up and gaze at the chandelier that caught the late afternoon light. There were ornaments and a decanter filled with liquor as if someone lived here, rather than stayed for a night or two.

  Oh, she had heard of suites like this. Aunt Carmel had visited a penthouse suite once and still spoke about it as if it were yesterday. Yet she wasn’t here for the same reasons as Aunt Carmel had been, Aubrey thought as she looked around.

  Even the powder room was incredible, with gold-plated faucets, which Aubrey turned on for no reason other than the pleasure of washing her hands, then drying them on fluffy white towels.

  And Khalid had let her up here?

  Things like that just didn’t happen in her world.

  Aubrey wandered around, peering into his bedroom and seeing the huge king-size bed where Khalid had invited her to rest.

  It never dawned on her that there might be a guest room behind one of the many doors.

  Aubrey wandered in; yet more luxurious than her surroundings was a hit of the heady scent of him. The suite even had its own private terrace and Aubrey stepped out from the cool silence to the bustle and noise and wanted to wave to the traffic and people below.

  She stared right down Fifth Avenue and she knew, from her mom, that Jobe lived on this very street.

  Had lived.

  Aubrey knew now she’d been right to come today to say goodbye to him properly.

  Jobe wasn’t the father she’d had never had, but he had been the closest thing to a father she’d known. And when he’d broken things off with her mom, he hadn’t simply walked away from her daughter.

  ‘Take this chance,’ he had said to Aubrey. ‘You’ve got talent, Aubrey. Don’t let history repeat itself...’

  It soon would.

  The bills were piling up, and Aubrey could only make so much from the trapeze. She was good but not brilliant like some of the girls, and she wasn’t skilled at anything else. Had she gone to music college, she might now be carving out a career, but even that felt like an impossible dream, because how could she ever leave her mom?

  Aubrey came in from the terrace, closing the French door and breathing in the relative silence as she slipped off her heels. There was a gold watch by the bed and she picked it up and felt its weight. It was a couple of years of wages and tips that she held in her hand, Aubrey guessed.

  Probably a whole lot more.

  She felt guilty for touching his things and put it down.

  Next to where she placed it was a thick wad of cash that caused her throat to tighten. Not just the cash but the diamond money clip that held it.

  Aubrey stood in his affluent world, in borrowed clothes, and wished she’d had the nerve to eat the plentiful food at the wake. She could ring for room service, Aubrey guessed, doubting he would even notice or care.

  Yet she cared.

  Aubrey didn’t want to abuse his hospitality. And so she took a piece of fruit from a lavish bowl and ate it instead, wondering if he’d mind if she took a shower.

  Stepping inside the stunning bathroom, Aubrey’s jaw dropped. It was incredible, with gorgeous mosaic floors and walls, a huge double shower and also a bath.

  There was a little card beside it, reminding the guest to ring #71 and their bath would be drawn.

  That made Aubrey smile. She did not call #71, but instead filled the bath herself, adding scented, fragrant oils to the water. It took ages to fill, but Aubrey had another apple and then, when it still wasn’t deep enough, she removed her make-up with the lovely cotton pads and make-up remover all provided by the hotel.

  She tried not to touch his things, except...

  There was a small silver bottle with Arabic engravings and, curious, Aubrey removed the silver lid and saw beneath that there was a glass stopper. There was a heady waft of his delectable scent, and though she longed to remove the stopper and deeply inhale, she replaced the lid.

  Aubrey had her first bath.

  Bubbles, oils she just could not resist.

  She thought she might never get out, and she was all pink and warm when finally she did and wrapped herself in a thick white robe.

  And so tired.

  If she could squeeze in a couple of hours’ sleep now, it would make a very long night at the airport far more bearable.

  Aubrey set her phone and then took time to close the drapes on the stunning view so that not a chink of light came in. The room was in such complete darkness that she had to put out her hands to feel the bed. Not wanting to mess it up for Khalid, she lay atop the coverlet and on her side, but no matter how tired she was it had been too eventful a day to switch off.

  She had never expected to get into the service, let alone that they’d know her name. Aubrey’s eyes were open as she lay there recalling the animosity from the Devereuxes. Did they know about Jobe and her mom? They couldn’t. Surely? Jobe had been adamant that the affair had never got out. It had been what had broken them in the end—Jobe himself had been ashamed of the relationship and had preferred to be seen with the coiffed Chantelle on his arm.

  No, Jobe had been utterly determined that that secret must never get out.

  They could not know about Jo
be and her mom.

  But they might know about the money. The knot of anxiety that seemed to live in her chest these days tightened. What if they wanted to know how it had been spent and came after her? Had she duped Jobe? Deep down Aubrey knew the answer was yes, and that knowledge ate at her soul.

  Might she be in serious trouble?

  It was to that uncomfortable thought that Aubrey fell asleep.

  * * *

  And that was what Khalid walked into.

  When he’d returned, Khalid had assumed that she had gone, though he’d knocked on the guest bedroom door and when there was no answer had popped his head in and checked.

  Yes, Aubrey Jameson had left and perhaps that was just as well. He could well see how Jobe might have fallen under her spell, for even a few hours after their meeting she still closed around his mind. Tonight, back at the house, when Ethan had thanked him for stepping in and saving an awkward situation, Khalid had had to bite his tongue on a tart response—he had been saving Aubrey from them.

  She brought out something that he did not recognise—for he usually saved his protective side for his people.

  He tossed his jacket over a chair and kicked off his shoes and discarded the black socks, then did the same with his tie.

  Khalid rarely drank, but on days like today he chose to and poured himself a generous measure. He took off his belt, then removed the cufflinks and undid the buttons on his shirt then yanked it off.

  That felt better.

  He glanced at his phone and of course word was out he was here, which meant offers of company aplenty.

  It was perhaps his last night in New York as a single man, yet he had no desire tonight.

  Neither had he last night.

  Or rather he had a rarer desire. He thought of the blush spreading across Aubrey’s cheeks and how, when he had not so much as touched her, it felt as if he had, and he wished he knew her kiss and the sound she made when she came.

  Khalid usually cared little for details like that.

  He would hit the shower, and then his phone; he would push all thoughts of tenderness aside. Except the second he pushed on the door to his bedroom suite, before it had swung even halfway open he realised that she was still here.