The Sheikh's Baby Scandal. Carol Marinelli

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