The Sheikh's Secret Heir

She knew Elena’s word was good as gold, but she wondered what other secrets the woman might be privy to. “Do you know anything about my birth parents other than they were very young? Mother and Father would never talk about them when I asked, and when I tried to contact my biological mother, she wasn’t willing to speak with me.”

Elena shook her head. “I am sorry I do not. I am also sorry they have not been forthcoming with that information, though I do understand their reasoning on some level. My son can attest to that. Adan spent his life believing another woman to be his mother.”

Kira wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. “You had no choice in the matter, Elena. From what you’ve said, you were following King Aadil’s orders to keep Adan’s true parentage concealed. At least the two of you now have the opportunity to know each other as mother and son.”

“Yet we cannot live openly that way,” Elena said. “Very few people know the truth, as it should be. Rafiq cannot afford another scandal after barely surviving his marriage to a divorcée with his authority intact.”

And she could very well hand them another huge scandal if anyone learned that Tarek had fathered her child. Perhaps she should resign and move to Canada. No. She could not live off her parents’ good graces, especially when her papa would be so disapproving of her unwed-mother status. But what other options did she have?

She was simply too tired to plan so far ahead. That fatigue filtered out as she hid a yawn behind her hand.

Elena got to her feet and patted Kira’s cheek. “You need to sleep, caramia. When I was expecting Adan, I remember nodding off in midsentence.”

Kira rose and drew her into a quick embrace. “Thank you for listening to me. I’m honestly relieved that I have someone I can trust to talk to about this.”

“You can always trust me, dear one. And should you need my counsel following your journey, I will be here.”

“Thank you.”

Elena then started toward the door, only to face Kira once more. “Since you obviously have decided to raise your child, I truly hope you find Tarek Azzmar to be an honorable man and a worthy father. As you have learned, every child deserves to know their legacy if at all possible.”

With that, she walked out of the bedroom, leaving Kira to ponder her words as she readied for bed. Her instincts told her to trust in Tarek. Her past dictated she be overly cautious. Falling victim to a man with dishonorable intentions had taught her that hard lesson eight years ago. She sincerely hoped that the father of her baby proved to be the man she had at first believed him to be, and not someone who judged a woman for her lack of good breeding, led her on, then left her heart in tatters.

Only time would tell if the real Tarek Azzmar turned out to be a huge disappointment, or a pleasant surprise.

Three (#ulink_02b0a681-f353-5396-ba5e-dfbd39f460c0)

He was pleasantly surprised when she entered the plane, yet disappointed at her obvious aloofness when she muttered a greeting. She wore a somewhat sheer blue blouse and fitted white skirt rising a few inches above her knee, and that alone had him battling the urge to invite her into the onboard sleeping quarters, a request she would no doubt reject. He had to respect her friendship request for the time being, yet he could not be certain how long that would last.

Despite that, Tarek sent Kira a guarded smile as he showed her to the black leather seat and claimed the one set against the bulkhead opposite hers. They remained silent during takeoff, the lack of communication continuing as the pilot permitted them to move about the cabin.

As Tarek unbuckled his seat belt, Kira removed a magazine from the bag resting at her feet. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked as he stood.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she said as she surveyed the area. “This is a very nice plane, maybe even a bit nicer than the Mehdis’, although smaller. With all this black and white, it reminds me of a four-star boutique with wings. I’m surprised you don’t have an onboard bartender.”

“Due to the short duration of the flight, no attendants are necessary.”

“Three hours isn’t exactly short.”

“It is not long enough to justify bringing along a full staff.” In truth, he wanted privacy more than he had wanted someone waiting on him. “Therefore I will serve as your host. My wish is your command.”

“Again, I have no wishes, but your hospitality is appreciated.”

Frustrated, Tarek moved to the onboard bar, reached into the upper cabinet above the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of wine that he had reserved for a special occasion. Apparently Kira did not see anything special about traveling with him. At the moment, he needed something to cut through the tension, even if it came from a glass of twenty-thousand-dollar French premier cru.

Once he returned to his seat, he found her flipping through random pages. “What are you reading?”

She paused and lifted the magazine from her lap, then set it back down. “Just something to pass the time.”

“I have never had an affinity for tabloids.”

That had earned him Kira’s undivided attention and a scornful look. “It’s not a tabloid. It features book and movie reviews and human interest stories.”

“If one is interested in reading about adultery, illegal drug use and secret pregnancies involving Hollywood stars. Of course, the secret is soon revealed when paparazzi capture photos of the expectant actresses on the beach and release them to the general public. The concept sickens me.”

She raised a thin brow. “The photos or the pregnant starlets?”

“Both, in a sense. It seems it is a rite of passage among the rich and famous to populate the world, with or without the benefit of matrimony.”

“Now I understand. You’re a traditionalist when it comes to marriage before the baby carriage.”

She did not truly understand at all, nor would she without knowing his goal. “I am a pragmatist. It is immaterial to me whether someone marries or not before giving birth. I strongly believe that one should consider the atmosphere into which they are bringing a child. In my opinion, thrusting someone so young into the spotlight could be detrimental to their well-being.”

Her gaze drifted away momentarily before she tossed the magazine back in the bag. “I suppose since everyone knows your business when you’re in the spotlight, that’s definitely a risk.”

He took a drink of the wine and set it into the holder built into the seat’s arm. “I would not wish to be placed under a microscope on a daily basis.”

“But you have no problem having your face splashed across financial publications. And yes, I’ve seen a few of those covers featuring your smiling face.”

He briefly wondered if perhaps someone in the royal family had known of his existence prior to their introduction. “Where did you come by this knowledge?”

“The internet. I did some research before you visited the palace the first time.”

“An order from the king?”

“No. I took the initiative on my own. I make a point to learn about guests of the royal family.”

He relaxed somewhat. “What else do you know about my life?”

She shrugged. “Not all that much, other than you’re in the top fifteen on the list of the wealthiest men in the world.”

“Top ten.”

“Forgive me for my ignorance. I also know that you are somewhat of a philanthropist. I read an article where you opened an orphanage in Mexico City a while back.”

A pet project he had felt compelled to complete for personal reasons. “There was a need, and I had the means to fulfill that need.”

“I’m sure the tax write-off doesn’t hurt.”

He bristled at her continual questioning of his motives. “I have global holdings in several countries with varying tax structures. I assure you that compassion, not company write-offs, drives my charitable efforts.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding somewhat contrite. “I tend to be wary of men with an overabundance of money.”

“Why is that?”

“Personal reasons.”

He suspected he knew what those reasons might be. “Who was he?”