Carol Marinelli – Claimed For The Sheikh's Shock Son (страница 6)
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.
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
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
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 were beautiful and the eulogy, which was delivered by Abe and followed with a verse from Ethan, had tears welling up in Aubrey’s eyes.
She must not cry here! Aubrey did not want to draw attention to herself and so she swallowed her tears down and watched as the stunning stranger rose.
He was going to speak.
Aubrey glanced down at her order of service.
She turned the page, wondering if his surname was on the next one, but, no, there was nothing more to indicate who he was.
Aubrey watched as he walked up to the lectern. Gosh, he was tall. And his black suit, among hundreds of black suits, stood out—it was just so superbly cut, and sat so well on his broad shoulders. As he moved the microphone up to accommodate his height she saw that he wore cufflinks, and Aubrey wasn’t used to that.
He was just so groomed and polished and, for a short moment, so silent that even a crying baby fell quiet.
Khalid held no notes.
‘Jobe first welcomed me into his home one Thanksgiving,’ Khalid said. ‘I was at school with Ethan, who told me that his father insisted I not spend Thanksgiving alone. We all know the power of Jobe’s warm welcome. He was generous and thoughtful in so many ways, and from the smiles I have seen here today, he brought a lot of happiness to many. Yet Jobe would not forgive me if I failed to mention that he was also cutting, ruthless, arrogant...’
The congregation started to laugh as the mild insults continued and his words were both well delivered and accepted.
Aubrey was more than grateful for the chance to watch this intriguing man.
Khalid made the congregation laugh, yet he, himself, did not smile.
He was completely steady, utterly composed. Detached even? Yet his words felt like a necessary caress at the end of an exhausting day, something to lean on as you fell apart.
‘Jobe helped many people find their light and shine,’ Khalid said, and Aubrey welled up as memories rained down.
Holidays.
Mom, happy and laughing.
The violin that he had bought Aubrey was still her most treasured possession.
Aubrey had been so certain she would not cry that she hadn’t even brought a tissue, but when Khalid read a poem in Arabic she crumpled. She had never meant to draw attention to herself. Had just wanted to pay her last respects to Jobe. But the flowers, the people, the memories of better days... Before Chantelle. Before the fire that had ravaged her mom’s looks. Before, when she’d had dreams.
Before...
And as Khalid translated the poem into English, his eyes drifted to Aubrey.
Her head was down again but there was a frantic edge to her as she used her shawl to wipe her tears, and Khalid found that he wanted to check in on her. To walk over after his reading and see that she was okay. Ridiculous, of course, and not an impulse he would be acting on, but seeing her sitting so alone and distraught, in that moment it was how he felt. Thankfully, one of the women from the Vegas contingent took from her vast cleavage a handkerchief and, having tapped Aubrey on the shoulder, handed it to her and then rested her hand on Aubrey’s shoulder.
As Jobe had once done for him.
Yet his voice did not become husky, neither did it waver as he translated the poem to perfection.
Khalid was, after all, a man of thirty. A man who had, at the age of sixteen, faultlessly delivered a full eulogy at his mother’s funeral in front of world leaders. He had been trained for this sort of thing from the cradle and it came as second nature now.
Stepping back from the lectern, he nodded to the casket and retook his seat with the family.
Seamless.
Faultless.
Closed.
* * *
Khalid was staying at the same hotel where the wake was being held and arriving there after the service he took the elevator up to his suite.
Soon he would head back down and greet the guests, and keep an eye out, as he had promised Ethan he would, but for now he took a moment alone and gazed out at the view.
It was the end of an era.
Not just Jobe’s passing, but his time spent in this amazing city.
It had always galled his father that he’d come here, but his mother had insisted. Khalid used his jet like others might take a cab, yet the time he spent here was already becoming less. He and the Devereux brothers were building a hotel in Al-Zahan, which was consuming. And with Khalid soon to marry and assume more royal duties, there would be fewer trips.