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Pregnant...by the playboy sheikh!

Playboy sheikh Kedah of Zazinia has loved every minute he’s spent earning his outrageous reputation! But about to claim the throne, and with a list of prospective brides being prepared, Kedah knows he must soon accept his royal duty...

A scorching night with his poised assistant, Felicia Hamilton, seems the perfect distraction—and her cool beauty masks a desire Kedah is hungering to ignite! But even Kedah isn’t prepared for the biggest scandal of all, when their one night together leaves Felicia pregnant with his baby!

‘Why don’t you just say in the first place that you are meeting me?’

‘I like watching them fluster.’

Kedah would like to see Felicia fluster—just a little—but she was always so measured and poised and gave away so little of herself.

He would like to know more.

The thought surprised him. Kedah did not fraternise with his staff, and yet over the past few weeks he had found himself wondering more and more about Felicia and what went on in her head.

It was a pretty head—one that was usually framed with shoulder-length hair—but today it was worn up. It was too severe on her. Or was it that she’d lost a little weight? He could see that she’d put on some make-up in an attempt to hide the smudges under her eyes.

Gorgeous eyes, Kedah thought. They regularly changed shade. Today they were an inviting sea-green, but he would not be diving in.

One Night With Consequences

When one night…leads to pregnancy!

When succumbing to a night of unbridled desire it’s impossible to think past the morning after!

But, with the sheets barely settled, that little blue line appears on the pregnancy test and it doesn’t take long to realise that one night of white-hot passion has turned into a lifetime of consequences!

Only one question remains:

How do you tell a man you’ve just met that you’re about to share more than just his bed?

Find out in:

Her Nine Month Confession by Kim Lawrence

An Heir Fit for a King by Abby Green

Larenzo’s Christmas Baby by Kate Hewitt

Illicit Night with the Greek by Susanna Carr

A Vow to Secure His Legacy by Annie West

Bound to the Tuscan Billionaire by Susan Stephens

The Shock Cassano Baby by Andie Brock

The Greek’s Nine-Month Redemption by Maisey Yates

An Heir to Make A Marriage by Abby Green

Crowned for the Prince’s Heir by Sharon Kendrick

Look for more One Night With Consequences coming soon!

The Sheikh’s Baby Scandal

Carol Marinelli


www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form asking for her job title. Thrilled to be able to put down her answer, she put ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation and she put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked for her hobbies. Well, not wanting to look obsessed, she crossed her fingers and answered ‘swimming’—but, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights—I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

One Night With Consequences

Title Page

About the Author

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

PROLOGUE

‘KEDAH, WHERE ARE YOU? That’s enough, now!’

The royal nanny was getting exasperated as she again called out to her small charge, but Kedah had no intention of being found—he was having far too much fun!

Kedah could see the nanny’s feet go past as he hid behind the large statue that she had checked just a few seconds ago. He could run like greased lightning, and he smothered his laughter as she now moved towards the grand staircase.

‘Kedah!’ The nanny was sounding very cross. As well she might—Kedah was a handful.

The people of Zazinia adored him, though, and they would all be lined up outside the palace hoping to get a glimpse of him. Usually there was just a small crowd when the royal plane landed but, thanks to the cheeky young Prince, the numbers had grown of late.

Never had there been more interest in a young royal. Kedah’s chocolate-brown eyes were flecked with gold and his winning smile had drawn rapt attention from the moment the first photographer had captured it. In their eyes he could do no wrong—in fact, Kedah’s boisterous boyish ways only served to endear him further to the public. He was as beautiful as he was wild, they often said, and it would seem that he could not stand still.

He tried to!

For the people of Zazinia, a dreary parade was made so much more entertaining when they watched little Kedah’s attempts to obey the stern commands that were delivered out of the side of his father’s mouth.

Just a few weeks ago there had been a procession, and Kedah had had to remain still for the best part of an hour. But he had quickly grown bored.

‘Control him!’ Omar, the Crown Prince had said to Rina, his wife, for the King had started to get cross.

It was so hard to control him, though.

When his mother had warned him to stand still, Kedah had merely smiled up at her and then held out his arms to be lifted. Rina had tried to ignore him—but, really, who could resist? In the end she had complied. Kedah had chatted away to her, despite being gently hushed. She had smiled affectionately and put her hand up to his little fat cheek, looked him in the eye. She’d told him to behave for just a few more moments, and that then it would be time to return to the palace.

The King’s silent disapproval had been felt all around. He did not approve of his son’s young wife, and certainly he felt that children should be seen and not heard. Omar had been tense, Rina had done her best to appease all, and yet Kedah had chosen to be impervious to the strained atmosphere and turned his attention to the crowd.

They had all been staring at him, so he’d smiled and waved to them. It had been such a break from the usually austere and remote royal shows that the gathered crowd had melted en masse and, quite simply, adored him. Kedah was funny—and terribly cheeky. He had so much energy to burn that he was the work of five children, and the royal nanny struggled with this particular charge!

‘Kedah!’ she called out now, to thin air. ‘I need to get you bathed and dressed so that you can go and greet your father and the King.’

He crouched lower behind the statue and did not respond. He was not particularly looking forward to the senior royals’ return. They had been gone for a few days and the palace felt so much more relaxed without them. His mother seemed to laugh more, and even the staff were happier without the King around.

Neither did Kedah want to change out of his play clothes just so he could watch a plane land and his grumpy father and grandfather get out. And so, as the nanny sped down stairs in search of him, Kedah ran from behind the statue and tried to plan his next move.

Usually he would hide in the library, but on this day he ran somewhere he should not. Jaddi, his grandfather, had his own wing, and there were no guards there today—which meant that he was free to explore. But his eager footsteps came to a halt midway there. Even though his grandfather was away, Jaddi was intimidating enough that Kedah chose not to continue. And so, at the last moment, he changed his mind and turned and ran to the Crown Prince’s wing, where his parents resided.

There were no guards there either.

To the left there were offices that ran the length of the corridor, and to the right was the entrance to his parents’ private residence.

Kedah rarely entered it. His parents generally came and visited him in the nursery or the playroom.

Knowing that he would be told off if he disturbed his mother from her nap, for a second he considered the balcony—but then chose to run to the offices instead. He had long ago kicked off his sandals, so his bare feet made barely a sound.

Even though he was in a rush to find a hiding place, Kedah stopped for a moment and looked up at the portraits, as he always did when he was here.

They fascinated him.

He looked along the row of Crown Princes gone by. All were imposing-looking men, dressed in warrior robes with their hands on the hilt of their swords. All stared down at him with cool grey eyes and grim expressions.

He looked at a younger version of his grandfather, the King, and then he looked at his father.

They looked so stern.

One day, his mother had told him, his portrait would hang there, for he was born to be King. ‘And you will be such a good king, Kedah. I know that you shall listen to your people.’

He had heard the brittle edge to his mother’s voice as she’d gazed up at the portraits. ‘Why don’t they smile?’ Kedah had asked.

‘Because being Crown Prince is a serious thing.’

‘I don’t want it, then!’ Kedah had laughed.

Now he looked away from the portraits and ran to a meeting room that had several desks. He went to hide under one, sure that he would not be found there.

Or perhaps he would, for there were noises coming from behind a large wooden door and he recognised his mother’s voice as she called out. He knew that that was his father’s private office, and wondered why she would be in there.

And then he heard a low cry.

It sounded as if his mother was hurt, and Kedah’s expression changed from happy to a look of concern as he heard muffled sobs and moans.

His father had told him to take care of his mother while he was away. Even at this tender age, Kedah knew that people worried about her, for Rina could be unpredictable at times.

He came out from under the desk and stood wondering what he should do. He knew that the door handles were too high for him. For a moment he considered running to alert the royal nanny that his mother sounded distressed, but then he changed his mind. Often his mother wept, and it did not seem to endear her to the staff nor to the rest of the royal family.

And so, instead of getting help, Kedah selected a chair and started to drag it across the room. The chair was made of the same wood as the heavy door, and it felt like ages until he had got it close enough to climb upon it and attempt to turn the handle on the office door.

‘Ummu...?’ Kedah called out to his mother as he climbed onto the chair and turned the heavy handle. ‘Ummu?’ he said again as the door swung open.

But then he frowned, because his mother seemed to be sitting on the desk and yet she was being held in Abdal’s arms.

‘Intadihr!’

His mother shouted that Kedah was to stay where he was, and she and Abdal moved out of his line of sight. Kedah did as he was told. He was not sure what was happening, but a moment or so later Abdal walked past on his way out.

Kedah had never really liked him. Abdal was always cross whenever Kedah came to the offices and pleaded with his mother to take him for a walk. It was as if he didn’t want the young Prince around.

Kedah stared at Abdal’s departing back as the man walked quickly along the corridor and then, still standing on the chair, he turned and looked to his mother. Rina was flustered, and she smoothed down her robe as she walked towards him.

Kedah did not hold his arms out to be lifted. ‘Why was Abdal here?’ he asked. ‘Where are the guards?’

There were no flies on Kedah—not even at that young age.

‘It’s okay,’ Rina said as she lifted him, unyielding, from the chair. ‘Mummy was upset and didn’t want anyone to see. I was crying.’

‘Why?’ Kedah asked as he took in his mother’s features. Her face was all red and, yes, he had heard her sob. ‘Why are you always sad?’

‘Because I miss my homeland sometimes, Kedah. Abdal is also from there. He is here to ease the transition and to help our two countries unite. Abdal understands how difficult it can be to get the King to agree to any changes. We were trying to come up with a way that will please all the people.’

Kedah just stared back at his mother as she hurriedly spoke on.

‘Your father would be very upset if he knew that I had been crying while he was away. He is tired of arguing with the King and he has enough on his plate, so it is better not to tell him. It is better that you don’t tell anyone what you just saw.’

Kedah stared into her eyes more deeply and tried to read her. His mother did not look sad. If anything, she looked scared, and that had his heart tightening in a fear for her that he didn’t understand.

‘I don’t want you to be unhappy.’

‘Then I shan’t be,’ Rina said, and brought a hand up to Kedah’s face and cupped his taut cheek. ‘After all, I have so much to give thanks for—I have a beautiful son and a wonderful home...’

‘So don’t you cry again,’ Kedah said, and those gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes of his narrowed. He removed his mother’s hand from his cheek and looked right into his mother’s eyes. For one so very young, he spoke with command. ‘Ever!’

‘Kedah, there you are...’

They both turned to the sound of the royal nanny’s voice, and he did not understand why the nanny stammered and blushed as she apologised to Her Royal Highness for losing sight of her young charge.

‘I’ve been looking for him all over the palace.’

‘It’s fine,’ Rina said, handing Kedah over. ‘We’ll say no more about it.’

A little while later his father and the King returned, and life went as before.

Kedah continued to be boisterous, and yet from that day there was a defiant edge to his antics. From then on those brown eyes narrowed if anyone got too close. He kept his own counsel and he trusted no one.

A few years later his brother was born and that signalled happier times, for Mohammed was a model child.

Weary of the wilder young Prince, the King insisted he be schooled overseas, and little Kedah attended a boarding school in London. He somehow knew that he held a secret that, if ever revealed, might well destroy not only the people he loved but the kingdom his family ruled.

And as he matured Kedah knew how dire the consequences would be for his mother. If her infidelity was exposed she would be shamed, and the King would have no choice but to divorce her and separate her from her sons.

But secrets had ways of seeping out through even the most heavily guarded walls. Servants gossiped amongst themselves as children played at their feet, and royal nannies eventually married and indulged in pillow talk of their own. Rumours spread wide when they were carried on desert winds—and returned multiplied, of course.

And as Kedah grew, and returned to Zazinia during term breaks, the portraits fascinated him for a different reason.

Perhaps what was being said was true and he was not his father’s son. After all, he looked nothing like any of them.

But his doubts were not because of the rumours that refused to fade with the passage of time—Kedah knew what he had seen.

CHAPTER ONE

YOU NEED FELICIA HAMILTON.

Crown Prince Sheikh Kedah of Zazinia had always made sure that he needed no one.

He was reliant only on himself.

That late afternoon he sat in his London office and rolled a rare spherical diamond between the pads of his index finger and thumb as he read a newspaper article on his computer. When there was a knock on the door and he called for Anu to come in he saw that she looked rather tense. He wondered if she had read the article too.

What was being discussed in it would distress her, he knew. She had been a loyal member of his team for a number of years and was also from his homeland. She would understand how damning this article was.

‘Ms Hamilton is here for her interview,’ Anu said, and her lips pursed a little.

‘Send her in, then.’

‘She asked for a few moments to freshen up.’

Oh, Anu tried, but she could not hold her protests in. All the staff who came into contact with Kedah had a preliminary interview with Anu first. Yesterday she had met with Felicia, and found the young woman did not tick any of the usual boxes that might get her through to a second round interview. She lacked hospitality experience—though she made up for it in attitude—and that would never do when working for Kedah. He was not exactly known for consulting with his staff. He had a packed schedule and he expected his team to work quietly and seamlessly in the background—which was something Anu could not see happening with Miss Hamilton.

Anu had reported this to him yesterday, and yet Kedah had told her to call Felicia back and invite her to come in this afternoon.

‘Kedah, I really don’t think that she is suitable to work as your PA.’

‘Anu, I understand that you have concerns, and they have been noted. Can you please alert me when Miss Hamilton decides that she is ready?’

As the door closed behind Anu, Kedah replaced the diamond in the inside pocket of his jacket and returned to the news article that he had been reading.

It was in English. No one from his homeland would dare to publish such a piece. Not yet.

Heir (not so) Apparent!

Beneath the daring title there was a picture of Kedah, wearing a suit and tie and a rich, arrogant smile. It spoke of the recent death of Kedah’s grandfather and how, now that Omar was King, certain difficult topics needed to be raised. It briefly discussed Kedah’s British education and subsequent jet-set lifestyle and playboy reputation. It mentioned how, at thirty, he still showed no sign of settling down.

The article also spoke about his younger brother Mohammed and his wife Kumu and their two sons. Unlike Kedah, Mohammed had been schooled in Zazinia, and there was a considerable faction in the country who considered that, for stability, Mohammed would make a more suitable Crown Prince and subsequent King. The article stated that some of the elders were now calling for the Accession Council to meet and for a final decision to be made.

At the end of the piece there was a photo of Mohammed and Omar, but most damning of all was the caption below: Like Father, Like Son.

Apart from the years that separated them, Mohammed and Omar were identical—not just in looks but in their staid, old-fashioned ways.

The only change that Omar had made while Crown Prince had been an update to the education system. Over the years Kedah had made no progress with his father either. Kedah was a highly skilled architect, yet every design he’d submitted had been rejected and every suggestion he’d made either immediately turned down or later overruled.

He had hoped, now that his grandfather was dead, that things might change, but his latest proposal for a stunning waterfront hotel and shopping complex had been rejected too.

His father had pointed out that the new building would look onto the private royal beach.

‘There are ways around that,’ Kedah had insisted. ‘If you would just let me—’

‘The decision is final, Kedah,’ the King had interrupted. ‘I have discussed it at length with the elders...’

‘And you have discussed it at length with Mohammed,’ Kedah had said. ‘I hear that he was very vocal in his criticism of my plans.’

‘I listen to all sides.’

‘Well, you should listen to me first,’ Kedah had said. ‘Mohammed is not the Crown Prince.’

‘Mohammed is the one who is here.’

‘I have told you—I will not live in Zazinia if I am to be ineffectual.’

Kedah turned off his computer so he did not have to see the offensive article.

Earlier today, when it had first appeared, he had called Vadia, his assistant in Zazinia, and had been assured that it would be pulled down from the internet. There was no denying, though, that things were coming to a head. Even before their grandfather’s death Mohammed had decided that he would make a better Crown Prince and future King. Many of the elders thought the same, and—as the article had stated—there was a strong push for a meeting of the Accession Council to discuss the future of the royal family formally.

His father would have the final say, but rather than declaring outright that he would prefer his younger son to be King one day, Omar seemed to be pushing Kedah into stepping aside.

Kedah refused to.

Instead he was busy making plans.

He had many rich and influential friends, and he knew a lot of bad boys too. Matteo Di Sione was both. He had a reputation that rivalled even Kedah’s.

They had met up in New York a couple of weeks ago—and not by chance. Kedah hadn’t told Matteo the issue, just that he was expecting turbulent times ahead and needed someone tough who could handle things. Matteo had made some discreet enquiries on his friend’s behalf and had come back to Kedah with his findings.

You need Felicia Hamilton.

Kedah glanced at the time. Usually a potential employee who arrived late for an interview and then asked for time to freshen up wouldn’t even make it through the door of his office.

What the hell was she doing? he wondered.

* * *

She was reading.

Felicia hadn’t actually intended to keep Sheikh Kedah waiting for quite so long. The West End was gridlocked—thanks to a red carpet awards show taking place tonight, the taxi driver had told her. So Felicia, sitting in the back and doing some final research on Kedah on her way to the interview, had decided to walk the last couple of blocks. But then a very interesting article had turned up on her tablet and, after arriving at his impressive office, she’d wanted a few more moments to go through it.

Now perhaps she understood why she had been called back after that disastrous interview yesterday. Anu had spoken to her as if Felicia wanted to work for Kedah—a real job, so to speak—and after an awkward twenty minutes, during which it had become increasingly clear that Felicia was not the type Sheikh Kedah employed, the two women had parted ways.

Still, her phone had rung this morning and Felicia had smiled to herself when she had been invited to return and meet with the man himself. Of course Kedah didn’t want a PA—it was her troubleshooting skills he required.

Now she knew why!

It would seem that Crown Prince Sheikh Kedah of Zazinia was fighting for the throne—and Felicia was now sure he wanted to commence the clean-up of his reputation.

From what she knew of him, it would take more than industrial strength bleach!

If there was a scale for playboys, then Kedah was at the extreme top. In fact his partying ways were legendary.

How the mighty fell!

Today this oh, so arrogant man would reveal his troubles to Felicia. Of course she would look suitably unshocked as he did so, and assure him that whatever trouble he was in she could sort it.

Felicia was very good at her job because she had been doing it all her life.

She had been taught to smile for the cameras alongside Susannah, her long-suffering mother, long before she could even walk. She had on many occasions sat in the family lounge with spin doctors and PR people as they had debated how her father’s multiple affairs and the trashy headlines and exposés should best be dealt with.

There had even been times when they had come to her school. Felicia could remember sitting in the headmaster’s office with her parents, being reminded that cameras would be on them when they left. She had been told what to do as they walked, as a family, to the waiting car.

‘Remember to smile, Felicia.’

‘Susannah, hold his hand as you walk to the car and don’t forget to laugh when he whispers to you.’

And her mother had done as she was told. Susannah had done everything that had been asked of her. But in the end it had all been to no avail. When Felicia was fourteen her father had decided to update to a younger model and had walked out on them.

A legal wrangle had ensued.

The lovely private boarding school that had been such a haven for her had disappeared when the school fees hadn’t been paid, and with it had gone Felicia’s friends and her beloved pony.

Susannah had fallen apart, and it had been up to her daughter to be strong. They had rented a small house while waiting for the money to be sorted out and Felicia had enrolled in the local school—but she hadn’t fit in. Her dreams of being a vet had long gone by then, and she’d left school at sixteen. She had taken an office job to help with the rent.

Those days were gone now.

Felicia was highly sought-after, and her troubleshooting talents were coveted by the rich and famous. Her mother lived in a house that Felicia had bought and paid for, and Felicia owned her own flat.

Some questioned how she could defend these men—but, really, Felicia was just doing what she’d been taught.

The only difference was that now she was paid.

And paid handsomely.

She ran a comb through her dark blonde hair, touched up her lip gloss and added a slick of mascara to bring out the green of her eyes. As she headed out Anu told her to take a seat. Guessing the newspaper article would soon be taken down, she took a few quick screenshots on her phone as Sheikh Kedah now kept her waiting.

Oh, well! She had done the same to him.

Working with this type of man, Felicia had found that it was terribly important to establish early on that his ego had to be put aside and that from this point on she ran the show. It was even more vital to establish that they weren’t suddenly best friends and, given the reputations of the men she dealt with, to make it clear they would never be lovers.

Felicia would be very nice at first, of course, while he told her what was going on, but then her smile would fade and she’d tell him what had to be done if he wanted to come out of this intact.

The truth was that Felicia despised these men.

She just knew, from wretched experience, how to deal with them.

‘You might want to put your phone away,’ Anu suggested.

Felicia was about to decline politely when a rich, deep and heavily accented voice spoke for her.

‘I’m sure Ms Hamilton is just keeping up to date with the news.’

She looked up.

She had prepared thoroughly for this moment—determined not to let such a superfluous thing as his stunning looks sideswipe her. She had examined many photos to render herself immune to him. Only no photograph could fully capture the beauty of Sheikh Kedah in the flesh.

He was wearing an exquisitely cut dark suit and tie, but they were mere details for she had little interest in his attire. And it was not the caramel of his skin against his white shirt or his thick glossy black hair that forced her to try to remember to breathe. Nor was it cheekbones that looked as if Michelangelo himself had spent a couple of days sculpting them to perfection. Even sulky full lips that did not smile hardly mattered, for Felicia was caught in the trap of his eyes.

They were thickly lashed and a rich shade of chocolate-brown with golden flecks and—unlike most of her clients—he met her gaze steadily.

Oh, she was extremely good at her job. For, despite the jolt to her senses, Felicia did not let her reaction reveal itself to him and instead stood up, utterly composed.

‘Come through,’ he said.

And she smiled.

Widely.

She had a smile that took men’s breath away. It was a smile so seemingly open that hardened reporters would thrust their microphones a little closer and their lenses would zoom in, so certain were they that it would waver.

It never did.

And long ago she had trained herself not to blush.

‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ Felicia said as she walked towards him. ‘The traffic was terrible.’

He almost forgave her, for in turn Felicia was not what Kedah had been expecting. He had thought, given she had been invited for a formal second interview, that she would be in a suit, but Felicia looked rather more like a lady who lunched and was wearing a pretty off-white dress.

It was fitted enough that it showed her slender frame and pert bust, while short enough to reveal her toned legs. She was wearing high-heeled strappy sandals and looked nothing like the hard-nosed woman he had been prepared for. In fact she was as delicate-looking as she was pretty. She was so soft and smiling that Kedah was quite sure Matteo had got it all wrong.

Felicia Hamilton was the very last person he needed. Moreover, she was exactly the soft and submissive type he desired!

Naturally he had looked her up and had seen a picture of her in a boxy suit with her hair worn up. She had been coming out of court, with a terribly famous and thoroughly disgraced sportsman by her side. She had spoken for him and her voice had been crisp and to the point.

Today Kedah had expected brittle, and yet there was a softness to her that confused him. Her hair was long and layered and framed a heart-shaped face, and her fragrance was light and floral, meeting his nostrils as he held the door open for her and she passed him.

‘Please...’ Kedah gestured. ‘Take a seat.’

Felicia did so, placing her bag by her side and crossing her legs at the ankles. Though he seemed utterly composed, Felicia was prepared for anything. Often the door had barely closed before her future client broke down. ‘For God’s sake, Felicia, you have to help me!’ they all too often begged. ‘You have to stop this from getting out!’

The free excerpt has ended.

Age restriction:
0+
Release date on Litres:
09 May 2019
Volume:
171 p. 2 illustrations
ISBN:
9781474044196
Copyright holder:
HarperCollins