Now he did it because...
He cared.
Khalid even smiled when Stella came in without knocking. She had been here for two weeks, awaiting the birth of her second grandchild.
Two weeks, three days, and fifteen hours. God help Khalid.
‘I thought I might take Haris to look at the boats,’ she said.
It was so much more than his father would have done.
‘Aayiz,’ Aubrey corrected, for what felt like the millionth time.
‘He would love that, Stella,’ Khalid said, and handed his son to her. He watched as Stella pulled a funny face and made a serious Aayiz laugh, and then she peered at the new, very tiny baby.
‘She looks just like Aubrey when she was first born,’ Stella said. ‘Well, a bit darker, but she had that nose for a few days.’
Khalid smiled.
His first real one for Stella.
The saying fake it till you make it came to mind.
It had worked, for he was starting to like her.
In truth, he admired Stella, for Khalid admired strength and the Johnsons had it in spades.
‘Stella,’ Khalid said, ‘have you spoken to Carmel about coming over now the baby is here?’
‘Didn’t I tell you?’ Stella beamed. ‘She’s on her way.’
Aubrey would never know why her serious husband suddenly laughed.
She kissed Aayiz, and then Aayiz kissed his new sister.
And Khalid watched as the pantomime of love continued and Stella kissed her daughter then left.
‘No,’ he said as the door closed.
Aubrey frowned and then pulled her mind back to the conversation they’d been having.
‘I don’t miss him.’
He came and sat on the bed. She moved her legs to make room and looked at her mysterious man who sometimes didn’t give the answer she was looking for.
But then neither did she.
They challenged each other, while adoring each other, and then there were times like these.
Where they both smiled in awe at the life they had made and she wanted to thump his strong arm at how clever they were. ‘She’s so beautiful. When Aayiz was born...’ She stopped.
‘Tell me.’
‘They whisked him away,’ Aubrey said. ‘I thought I might never see him again.’
‘Look at him now,’ Khalid said, and he kissed her tired face. ‘Look at the beautiful boy you grew.’
He knew her.
She was a little scared to love and so he handed her their little girl whom he had held for more than four hours now.
‘She’s not going to disappear.’
Aubrey held her baby properly.
Her tiny girl.
‘We have to think of a name,’ Khalid prompted.
‘She already has one,’ Aubrey said. ‘Dalila.’
Khalid stilled for a moment, but then he spoke, and when he did Aubrey rested back on her pillows and smiled.
‘Abnataya alhabiba,’ he whispered to his sleeping baby. ‘Beloved daughter, I pray that you will walk in the sun and laugh as I did...’
She would.
* * *
If you enjoyed Claimed for the Sheikh’s Shock Son by Carol Marinelli you’re sure to enjoy these other Secret Heirs of Billionaires stories!
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by Louise Fuller
The Sheikh’s Secret Baby
by Sharon Kendrick
The Sicilian’s Secret Son
by Angela Bissell
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A Cinderella to Secure His Heir
by Michelle Smart
CHAPTER ONE
BETH HARDINGSTONE ENTERED the arrivals department of Vienna International Airport, pushing Dom’s pram with one hand and dragging her suitcase full of baby paraphernalia with the other. She looked around for the driver she’d been promised would meet her and hoped it wouldn’t be too long before she could throw a mug of super-strong coffee down her throat. She needed caffeine, badly.
Dom was suffering with teething pains and had kept her up all night with his crying. She’d finally fallen asleep at silly o’clock, less than an hour before she’d had to get up and get ready for their early-morning flight to Vienna. There had been no chance of sleep on the plane. Dom had not enjoyed his first flight and had made sure every passenger knew it.
He was fast asleep now, though, flat on his back in his pram, thumb in mouth, as cherubic as it was possible to be.
People always said how hard the first year of babyhood was but until you’d lived it for yourself there was no way to appreciate the sheer hard work and exhaustion that went with it. There was also no way to appreciate the unremitting joy that went with it either: the gummy smiles, the gurgling laughs, the explosions of love that came from picking up a screaming child and having him immediately quieten from being held in your arms.
A tall figure leant against a wall caught her eye.
He looked up from the phone in his hand. As his eyes met hers, her heart made a sudden leap.
Six weeks ago, Beth had been offered the event manager’s job of a lifetime—organising a Viennese masquerade ball. The Greek billionaire who’d bought a palace in Vienna and spent millions renovating it into an exclusive hotel for the filthy rich had sent his representative to deal with Beth’s company on his behalf. That representative had been this man, Valente Cortada.
In her six years working at White’s Events, where models of both sexes were regularly used as hosts and hostesses, where clients were rich and powerful, where guests were the staple of gossip columns, Beth had never met anyone who’d made her suck in a breath with one look as Valente had.
His instructions had been to secure Beth’s agreement to run the masquerade ball. That she’d been at the time nine months into a year’s unpaid leave and had no childcare arrangements in place had been overcome by Valente and her boss Lucinda setting her up with all the technology needed to organise things remotely from the comfort of Beth’s flat, and providing her with all the staff needed to assist her. As the sleeping baby was the reason for her year’s leave, and as she refused to travel without him, provisions had also been made for her to bring Dom with her to the ball.
When the offer had been made, Beth had almost wept with relief to accept. The nest-egg she’d thought would get her through the first year of Dom’s life had been depleted far more quickly than she’d anticipated. She’d been at a real crossroads. She wasn’t emotionally ready to put Dom in childcare and return to work but the bills were piling up and her rent, like everything else, had increased. She’d never been so skint in her life.
It was hard to believe that a little over a year ago the future had been so rosy. Beth had earned enough to rent a small flat but that had been all she’d needed. She’d been a single woman enjoying the London life with enough disposable income to eat out regularly, watch a live show or see a band whenever the mood struck. Her career had been going from strength to strength too but then tragedy had struck in a full-pronged attack and now she was in serious danger of losing the flat she loved so much and having to be put into social housing.
If it came to it, then she would cope. Dom’s emotional welfare and wellbeing meant more than anything. The poor mite, orphaned by the time he’d turned three months, needed all the love and security she could give. Beth could never replace his mother but she hoped that, as he grew up, he would take her love and support for granted just as he would have taken Caroline’s.
As an orphan herself, Beth knew how important and necessary this was.
She did not begrudge what she was doing for Dom and refused to call it a sacrifice. What Caroline had done had been a sacrifice. She’d given her life so her child could live.
But, if her perilous finances weren’t enough to contend with, there was also was the spectre of Alessio Palvetti hanging over her head.
Dom’s powerful biological uncle had discovered Dom’s existence and immediately thrown his weight about, emailing Beth from his ivory tower in Milan to demand access. Remembering the solemn promise she’d made to his parents to keep Dom far from Alessio and the other Palvettis for ever, she’d refused. Alessio had been undaunted and had got his expensive lawyers on the case, going as far as to offer her a million pounds in exchange for him taking custody of Dom. She had dismissed the offer out of hand and made it clear she would consider any further contact harassment and take appropriate action to protect Dom and herself against it.
She hadn’t heard from him since but didn’t believe his silence would last. He was too rich and too powerful to be held off for ever.
Beth loved Dom fiercely. She’d been present at his birth and there at his mother’s death. She would do anything to protect him, and if that meant fighting one of Europe’s richest and most secretive families then so be it.
The money being offered to organise the masquerade ball was the life-saver she needed.
She hadn’t seen Valente in the flesh since their initial meeting but as he was the liaison between Giannis and her they’d communicated daily with emails and video calls. What had started as purely professional communication had slowly transformed into something friendlier. Not only was he the sexiest man she’d ever met but he was easy to work with. He rarely questioned her judgement and, when he did, his points were valid and never cutting.
She’d found herself thinking about him a lot in the evenings when rocking Dom to sleep. And in the days when she was working on her laptop, co-ordinating things whilst simultaneously trying to keep Dom entertained. And at night...
Her skin suddenly heated to remember the dream she’d had of him. It had been a couple of weeks ago, long enough for the details to fade, but the hot, sticky feeling she’d woken with that night had stayed with her for a long time. For a few days after, she’d found it hard to meet his eye even though they’d been speaking via laptops.
He strode over to them, a head taller than everyone else in the vicinity, his lean body wrapped in dark trousers and an open-necked navy shirt that hugged his muscular chest, oblivious to the stares he received, a lazy smile playing on his lips.
When he reached them and extended a hand to her, the cuff of his sleeve pulled back with the motion to reveal a glimpse of fine, dark hair.
‘Beth, it’s good to see you again.’ His thick Italian accent had a richness to it that made her think of strong coffee liqueur.
Her stomach tightened under the spotlight of his green eyes.
She’d forgotten how vivid they were in the flesh, the colour of emerald, contrasting sharply with the deep olive hue of his skin and the thick, black curls of his hair and dark, stubbled jaw. She knew women who would kill to have sweeping lashes as long and thick as his. Set in a chiselled face with a strong nose and firm mouth, he truly was heartbreakingly gorgeous.
Over the beats of a heart that had suddenly started a strangely rapid and erratic tempo, she reached out her hand and found her fingers enveloped in a firm shake that sent heat trickling through her.
She felt strangely breathless. ‘You didn’t say you would be meeting us.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘My task this weekend is to assist you.’
Was she imagining the flirtatious tone and intensity of his stare...?
‘Have the caterers arrived at the palace yet?’ she asked as she removed her hand from his hold.
For all the friendliness that had developed between them through their communications, theirs was a professional relationship. Her dream had been exactly that. A dream. It didn’t mean anything.
‘They arrived as I was leaving. Everything is exactly as it should be. Your organisational skills are exceptional.’
Warmed by the compliment, she demurred. ‘As you know very well, it was a team effort, and besides a six-week deadline to organise the masquerade ball of the century forces the mind to focus.’
Another gleam flashed before he peered down into the pram. He stared at Dom for what felt like an age before raising his gaze back to her. ‘This is your son?’
The flirtatious sparkle that had been in his eyes had vanished. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why—Valente had just remembered Beth was a mother...
Either that or she’d imagined the interest she’d seen in his eyes. The latter was most likely. Beth was seriously out of practice with the big, wide world and the flirtatious practices that went on in it. She’d never been party to the flirtatious practices when she’d been a full-time part of it.
‘This is Dom,’ she confirmed. Telling Valente she was Dom’s legal guardian and not his biological mother would only lead to the inevitability of further questions. Caroline’s death was still too raw for her to talk about it without turning into an emotional mess. The next twenty-four hours were going to be manically busy. She needed to focus on the job she was being paid to do. ‘I would introduce you but he’s only just gone off to sleep.’
He cast one more look at the sleeping baby. ‘Let’s get you to the palace and introduce you to the nanny who will look after him while you work.’
So saying, he picked up her suitcase as easily as if it were filled with nothing but air and carried it to the exit.
Keeping step with him, Beth found herself wondering, not for the first time, how a man who exuded such raw power as Valente could be comfortable working for anyone but himself. Even the way he composed his emails suggested a man who should be ordering minions around, not a man earning a living doing another’s bidding.
When Alessio stepped out of the airport, he found the sun had risen in the Viennese morning sky. Its hazy beauty passed him by.
That was his orphaned nephew sleeping in the pram.
‘Have you been to Vienna before?’ he asked Beth. He needed to keep conversation flowing.
Until a few minutes ago, the closest he’d come to Domenico, the child Beth called Dom, was through photographs.
His plan had worked seamlessly. Beth was here and she’d brought his nephew with her.
And she still had no idea who he really was.
There had been only a small chance Beth would recognise him. A
lessio, like the rest of the Palvettis, guarded his privacy zealously and the few pictures of him in the public domain were obscured. There was nothing in the way of similarity between him and his deceased brother either, in personality or looks.
It had been tough, learning his brother had died in a drunken accident without a family reconciliation, tough to learn he’d secretly married and tough to learn how long he’d been dead. His brother’s remains had been interred in a small cemetery in London rather than in his rightful place in the family plot in Milan. But to learn Domenico and his wife had given guardianship of their son to a stranger, a woman who was not even a blood relative on his mother’s side...?
That had been the hardest blow.
Domenico’s estrangement from and loathing of his family had gone beyond the grave. It had been the ultimate act of defiance against a family who had pandered to all his selfish needs and fanciful dreams.
Alessio had pushed his grief and fury towards his dead brother aside and set about bringing his nephew home. He would not allow the son to suffer for his father’s petulance. Domenico’s son was a Palvetti and deserved to be raised as such, not be left in the care of a stranger who didn’t even share his blood.
Employing a private investigative team to dig into the guardian’s life, he’d discovered she was a single twenty-four-year-old woman. Doubtless, she would be pleased to be rid of the burden of an orphaned child. Or so he’d thought.
He’d sent her a polite email requesting that they meet. She had replied with a curt ‘No.’ He’d got his lawyers involved but she’d remained unmoved. Assuming she was holding out for a financial offer from him—he’d learned the unpaid leave she’d taken from her workplace, presumably to care for his nephew, had left her dirt-poor—he’d offered her a million pounds for custody of his nephew.
Her instant dismissal of this offer and her threats to take legal action if he continued his ‘harassment’ had intrigued rather than angered him. By this point his investigators had compiled their final reports on her and what he’d learned had made interesting reading. Before going on leave, Beth had been a successful events manager.
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