Claimed For The Sheikh's Shock Son. Carol Marinelli
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that reached her first.
Khalid always smelled divine—al-lubān, or frankincense as it was known here, had been subtly blended with oil of guaiac wood from a palo santo tree that had been gifted to the palace. To that there was added a note of bergamot, cardamom and saffron, all blended in the Al-Zahan desert by a mystic, exclusively for Khalid.
It was subtle yet captivating.
So much so that when it reached Aubrey her head rose like a meerkat’s and she turned to its source. A man towered over her, so she had to look up from the black tie she first glimpsed. Up to the thick white collar of his shirt and to his throat and strong jaw.
And when Aubrey first met his burning gaze, everything she knew she forgot.
She forgot not to make eye contact.
And she forgot that she generally did not trust men.
In the moment that their eyes met, she simply forgot.
Khalid’s features remained impassive, yet despite his calm demeanour he instantly felt her allure. From the china blue of her unblinking eyes to lush, full lips, she was captivating. She wore far less make-up than she had in the tasteless photos. Well, a touch too much blusher perhaps, but Aubrey really was exceptionally beautiful; there was no doubting that. Khalid could see how a man could be beguiled.
He refused to be.
‘I believe,’ Khalid said, ‘that it is your turn to sign.’
His voice was rich, deep and accented, and to Aubrey, for a second, his words made no sense, but then she remembered. Oh, yes, the condolence book. She turned from the assault to her senses and picked up a heavy silver pen. Her hand was shaking as she wrote her name.
Aubrey Johnson.
For her address... Well, she left out the trailer park and just put Las Vegas, then she forgot the beautiful stranger behind her and pondered over her message.
What could she say?
Thank you for making Mom feel like a queen and for the trips and the fun times...
Of course she could not put that; his long affair with her mom had been a faithfully kept secret.
Thank you for believing in me...
Aubrey would have liked to write that, but knew she could not. Or...?
Sorry I lied.
Jobe had insisted that she take this chance, and not follow a more familiar, familial career path, for her mother and Aunt Carmel had both made their living on the game. Would Jobe have forgiven her if he’d found out that she’d used her scholarship money for her mom’s medical care?
Aubrey would never know now.
And so she wrote a short line and then put down the pen, and Khalid watched as she moved on before reading her words.
Dearest Jobe, thank you for everything. You were wonderful. Xxx
The thought of her with Jobe revolted him.
Khalid picked up the pen she had just held and wrote exactly what he would have before his eyes had held Aubrey’s.
Allah yerhamo.
May God have mercy on him.
Those words felt more pertinent now.
‘Your Highness.’ One of Khalid’s security detail was at his side and discreetly told him that another guest on the watch-list had arrived. And then more news must have come into his earpiece, for he added, ‘And another.’
AUBREY WAS GUIDED to a pew and she smiled at a rather overly made-up woman and took a seat beside her, then sat silently looking at the dark oak coffin covered in a huge spray of deep red roses.
Tears sparkled in Aubrey’s eyes as she thought of a man who really had been one of a kind and very loved. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who thought so. Aubrey had never seen anything like the turnout for Jobe’s funeral. She looked around at the congregation gathered to say farewell to him. They were an eclectic bunch. From kippahs to hijabs. From military uniforms to medical staff, and alongside New York City’s elite were cops and, she was sure, a few mobsters too.
And then her eyes were drawn to the latest arrival. Well, how could they not be? All eyes were drawn to the woman walking in.
She had legs right up to her neck and wore black, although not an awful lot of it, and there was rather a lot of crêpe décolletage on display. Her bottle-blonde hair was backcombed, and around her shoulders she wore a rather tired feather boa that, like its owner, looked as if it might have seen better days.
Aubrey was rather certain she knew her and tried to place her name. Brandy. That was it. Aubrey couldn’t think of the rest of her name, but knew that she was a bit of a Vegas legend. She didn’t know her directly—Brandy was from before her mom’s time and had been a true ex-Vegas showgirl and ran a dance school now.
The congregation seemed to suck in its collective breath, but it didn’t seem to bother Brandy. She just swanked her way in on those endless legs as she was directed to the pew behind Aubrey, not remotely concerned by the air of disapproval.
As Aubrey glanced behind she blinked, as she recognised another of the women, and then she looked again at the made-up woman next to her.
Was she perhaps another of Jobe’s exes? It dawned on Aubrey that she had been guided to this pew for a reason.
Oh, my, what happened in Vegas wasn’t staying there today!
Aubrey actually had to smother a burst of laughter, but as she put her hand up to cover her mouth, she realised she was being watched, and found herself looking into the narrowed eyes of that stunning stranger.
He really was terribly beautiful.
More beautiful than anyone she had ever seen.
He stood in the pews reserved for family. Exquisitely suited, his glossy dark hair was brushed back from his forehead and Aubrey’s eyes roamed his face, taking in the details.
Just this morning, when Vanda had complimented her on her bone structure, Aubrey had immediately referenced her mother. For the rest of her life, Aubrey knew, she would now reference him, for the blend of his features was unsurpassed. Caramel-skinned with an aquiline nose, his prominent cheekbones were somehow countered by sensual full lips that were not smiling. If anything, the look he gave her was less than friendly, yet Aubrey found that she could not tear her gaze away.
He did.
As someone spoke to him, he looked abruptly away, yet Aubrey remained entranced and could not stop watching him as the family arrived.
Ethan and Abe were accompanied by their gorgeous wives. Aubrey had kept up to date, via the tabloids, on Jobe’s sons.
Aubrey could not though work out the family’s relationship with the handsome stranger. And it wasn’t to do with his dark skin, more that he did not shake hands with the brothers or kiss their wives, he did not greet them warmly and yet they all seemed relieved to see him.
Jobe’s partner, Chantelle, seemed to follow his guidance and slipped into the seat he gestured to and then gave him a nod of thanks. She gleamed with diamonds. Her neat black coat was the perfect canvas for the most amazing golden blonde hair that was so completely perfect that, to Aubrey’s trained eye, it just had to be a wig.
Yes, Aubrey knew rather more about Chantelle than the rest of the Devereux clan.
She had been the reason Jobe had ended things with her mother.
The service soon started and it really was incredibly moving. The readings