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Christmas with the Yared Sheikhs: The Complete Series

Page 7

by North, Leslie


  Noel ran his lips over her forehead. A sigh condensed there. “If anyone makes me want to try new things, it’s you.”

  A smile twitched at her lips. She reached for her notebook. “I need to get back to work.”

  Noel guided her chin back to him, something serious in his gaze. “But tomorrow. You’re mine.”

  Excitement shuddered through her again, but this time she couldn’t squash it. Not even a little. “Oh? Is that a promise or a threat?”

  “A little bit of both.” He brushed his lips over hers so softly she couldn’t tell if she’d imagined it. “There’s something special you need to see tomorrow night. After Linh goes to bed. Maybe you should make sure the nanny comes.”

  He stood then, leveling her with a mysterious smile, and let himself out of her bedroom. Before he pulled the door shut, he whispered, “Goodnight, ladies.”

  In the quiet of the bedroom, the husky tone of his voice lingered, running through her mind like a lullaby she never wanted to stop hearing.

  10

  Ana had enough on her plate with the last-minute lunch switch that day. She didn’t need the slew of jangled nerves clouding her focus while she wondered what Noel might have in store for her later that night.

  Curiosity zipped just beneath the surface as she worked that morning. She was normally so good at pushing outside-world concerns away during work. It was how she’d managed to ignore her stagnant marriage for years before adopting Linh.

  But Noel? He burrowed in deep and took root, barely left her thoughts as she went about her business. At least she could still tend to her business while thinking of him.

  At least he didn’t hijack her brain entirely.

  “Ana, you got those sprouts?” Charlie’s voice sounded strained as he rummaged through a fridge nearby. They’d come in early to personally remove the locks, but Segal and his cook cronies had already spotted their counteroffensive. It felt like all eyes were on her as she made her rounds that morning, starting the prep work.

  “Yeah, I already took them out.” She chopped scallions fluidly, making small piles.

  Charlie heaved a sigh. “Thank God.” He came over and grabbed the tray of sprouts from her countertop. As Segal and the rest of the staff started to roam around the kitchen, Ana sent them firm directives in French to get them in gear.

  The prep went surprisingly easily, probably because she’d locked down the whole place overnight. Nothing went missing. Barely anybody spoke. She was able to get lost in that quiet, focused melody of concentration.

  Before she knew it, the palace employees were setting up the outdoor garden party and servers were arriving for platters. Ana wiped her arm over her eyes, squinting at the wall clock. Ten to noon.

  “Here we go,” she said, garnishing the lentil sprouts dish before handing it over to the first server. Charlie and the rest of the cooks handed over their platters one by one. She couldn’t help but feel that Segal was glaring the entire time.

  Maybe he had reason to glare. She’d probably sabotaged his sabotage. Ana cleaned up her workspace a bit before making sure the rest of the cooks were doing the same, and then she headed out to peep in on the party.

  A long line of tables lined one side of the tall, boxy hedges, where all the food platters lay. Pebbled tiles stretched across a square area of the lawn, which was covered by a chiffon-style canopy. Guests mingled near the food, lost in conversation, while violins played a delicate tune.

  The atmosphere was lighthearted, relaxed. At the other edge of the garden, the ceremonial planting of the crops had already taken place. Freshly turned soil lay at the perimeter. Noel’s father, Yared, still had dirty hands as he chatted with a dour-looking man.

  Nailed it. Ana couldn’t fight the smile from covering her face. This was a total win. And thank God Charlie had spotted the subterfuge before it could bite her in the ass.

  “Enjoying the party?”

  A husky voice at her ear made her jump. Noel was at her side, dressed to kill in a light blue dress shirt, a few of the top buttons left undone. He held a champagne flute in one hand, the look on his face pure TV ads about beach vacations.

  “You’re interrupting my spying.” Her smile widened further as she made a display of elbowing him. “I’m trying to watch everyone enjoying my hard work.”

  “They’re enjoying it, trust me.” He took a sip of his drink as they peered around the hedges together. Most of the attendees were dressed in what she’d come to understand was semi-formal Maatkaran wear. Women wore long white dresses cinched with golden belts. Men strolled in cream-colored tunic tops emblazoned with bright patterns on the cuffs and chest. And as always, Noel was dressed the most Western of them all. “I wanted to find you to congratulate you. This buffet approach has been a big hit.”

  She blinked, pulling back a bit. “Has it?”

  “Oh yes. My mother would have never allowed something like this.” He stuck his free hand in the pocket of his black slacks, jingling some coins. “My grandmother is positively elated.”

  “Your grandmother?”

  “She loves everything American,” Noel said. His gaze slid toward her, lighting her up like a firework. Her pussy clenched, and his words last night came back to her.

  “Well. I’m happy that everyone is so pleased.” She cleared her throat, wanting the fire between her legs to die down a bit. She shouldn’t get overly excited. She shouldn’t get excited at all. Noel was just a fun distraction while she weathered the gig in Maatkare.

  But she’d never had a distraction so tantalizing.

  “More than pleased. You’ve really raised the bar, Ana.”

  His words warmed her. This was the response she was used to receiving. But raising the bar meant angering Segal. She had to play smarter from here on out. Make sure he really didn’t get his sneaky fingers into the figurative—or literal—batter.

  “You’re making me start to think you might miss me once Christmas is over,” she said with a wry smile.

  Noel didn’t say anything, just tapped his glass with a finger as he gazed out over the garden, a satisfied aura clinging to him. After a few moments of pleasant quiet between them while they both watched the easygoing chatter of the party, he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

  “Don’t forget about tonight. Come to my room at seven.”

  And then he strolled off, as confident as ever, that perfect, muscular ass holding her attention captive as he rejoined the garden party.

  Ana drew a shaky breath, but her composure unraveled just a little bit more as Noel sought out her gaze over his shoulder from where he stood at the periphery of a conversation his father was having.

  This man had just a little too much of an effect on her. Reason told her to stay away.

  But every bone in her body knew that she’d see him that night at seven.

  * * *

  Noel paced the far edge of his bedroom. He’d been jumpy since five, waiting for Ana’s arrival, hardly able to do anything but think anxiously of what he’d do to her first.

  Smothering her in kisses was hardly an appropriate first item on the itinerary, but he might not be able to contain himself. He’d known her for two weeks and already had a growing list of what he admired about her…and what he wanted to do with her behind the privacy of his bedroom door.

  A bottle of chardonnay sat on ice near the wide lounge area in front of the balcony. His bedroom was a prime viewing location for Maatkare’s famous firework displays. If anything, his family knew how to put on a good show for the holiday. This was the stuff that children spoke excitedly about for years. Families from the farthest corners of the country would migrate to the capital once a year just to catch the Christmas fireworks displays.

  It was time Ana saw the stunning show herself. If he could keep himself off her long enough to watch them.

  The knock sounded timidly on the door. He could imagine she might be second-guessing herself. Or maybe he was so eager to see her that he’d imagined it. He rushed towa
rd the bedroom door and pulled it open.

  Ana was there.

  “Ahh, Ana. I wasn’t expecting you.” He cocked a smile, pressing a palm to the doorframe. Of course he’d been expecting her, and the sight of her sent his heart racing. He didn’t like how much she disrupted his orbit, but at the same time, it was a joy to experience. Maybe his life had become a little stagnant in the palace. Maybe it had been too long since he’d met someone who really woke him up. Inspired him. Agreed to his eight milers on the mountain.

  “I’m here for the mystery appointment,” she said, pushing at some hair that had fallen across her forehead. She’d done herself up for this, her blue eyes popping even more than usual thanks to her black eyeliner and mascara. A tight-fitting tank showed delectable curves from underneath a flowy shawl. He looked her up and down once, then tugged at the corner of her shawl.

  “Okay. You can come in.” He stepped aside so she could pass, then pushed the door shut behind her. He wet his bottom lip as he slid an arm around her waist, steering her toward the far wall of his room. “Wondering what this is about yet?”

  “Only since the second you mentioned it,” she said, her gaze careening over the room. “Why does your bedroom look like a Ruby Tuesday’s?”

  He paused in their trek across the room, assessing his bedroom with new eyes. “What’s that?”

  She snorted. “It’s an American restaurant chain. It’s like…lots of vintage decorations.” She pointed toward a license plate hanging on the wall above his walk-in closet. “Like that. That can’t be yours. The date says 1954.”

  “It was my grandfather’s,” he said. “But a lot of this stuff is vintage.” Her comment made him see his room with new eyes. Every so often he gave it a decorative overhaul. And this was probably the least Middle Eastern iteration of all time.

  “You’re so Western,” Ana mused as he led her by the hand to the balcony doors. Couches formed a bracket facing the doors, which were swung open. Sultry evening air poured in as the sun made its final arc toward the horizon. In true Arab fashion, finely stitched throw pillows were everywhere. He gestured toward the cushions.

  “But there’s nothing more Middle Eastern than this lounge area.”

  “Sure,” she conceded with a laugh. “But the way you dress is so different from your family. Why is that?”

  “I didn’t realize you’d come here to criticize my clothing choices,” he said with a smile. It was fun to rib her. To play around. He’d been sorely missing that in his life as of late.

  She swatted his arm before sinking back into the couch. Then she issued an appreciative sigh. One that set his pulse racing. “This feels amazing.”

  “Mmm.” He could make her feel just as amazing. Noel sank back onto the couch next to her, facing the burnt orange sunset. The tops of city buildings crowded the distant horizon. “I’m glad you like my couch, even if it isn’t Western enough for your tastes.”

  She giggled. “Oh, stop.”

  He grinned, leaning forward to lift the bottle of chardonnay from its ice bucket. “Care for a glass?”

  “Wow. Super lounge, plus chardonnay. What is going on? Are you trying to get in my pants or something?”

  Heat pooled under his collar, and he hefted with a laugh. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

  Her silence was heated, and he let the tension draw out until he uncorked the bottle. With a devilish grin, he poured two equal glasses.

  “My intentions are pure,” he said, handing her the wine glass. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. “I invited you here so we could watch the fireworks display. It’s quite popular. I thought you might enjoy it…and a bit of adults-only time.”

  “Hmm.” She nestled into her spot, propping her legs up on the other edge of the couches. White stones glittered on the band of her sandal. “Adults-only time? Is that like what we did in the car?”

  Something about her words, her tone, and the long, creamy length of her exposed legs made the last fiber of his restraint snap. He set his wine glass down.

  “You make it impossible to resist you,” he murmured, slinging his arm around her shoulders. He brought her closer to him, loving the way she acquiesced under his grip. She was ready for him. Wanting it maybe even as much as he did.

  “So don’t,” she replied simply, and he pressed his lips to hers. A fervent kiss emerged, one packed with passion yet tenderness at the same time. Ana made a noise as he cupped her face with his other hand, the kiss deepening, melting into another, and then another. Finally she pulled away, her lips deliciously kiss-bitten and pink.

  “Let me put this damn drink down,” she breathed, twisting away from him. Once the wine glass was safely on the side table, he dove in for more. Their lips locked, tongues meeting in the middle. His hands wandered down the sides of her face, over her shoulders, tracing her feminine form that he’d been eager to learn like a map.

  When his hands reached her hips, he couldn’t help himself. He pulled her onto his lap, her legs splaying open so she straddled him. She inhaled sharply, their kiss breaking. His cock pulsed between her legs. She had to feel it there by now, pressing up against her, begging for attention. His breathing was labored as he watched her for a reaction.

  “This,” she finally said, “does not feel like pure intentions.”

  11

  Noel gave a sexy growl that nearly split Ana in two. He ground his hips against her, steadying her by the waist with a firm grip.

  “You’re right,” he said, his voice a husky purr. “There’s nothing pure about this.” His palms moved over the tops of her thighs. She wanted to melt into him. For all their clothes to melt off. To never move from this spot. To try every sexual position imaginable in this one night.

  She wanted everything and its opposite. She just wanted him.

  “I’m okay with that,” she murmured, head lolling to the side as his hands danced under the hem of her tank top. His breath came out in hot puffs at the top of her breasts. Goosebumps skated over her skin.

  “Good.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her left breast and then the right one. In his gaze, lust swirled. Passion. Promises of pleasure that she was too eager to experience. “I’ve been thinking about you since the day I met you, Ana.”

  She sighed when he tugged the top of her shirt down, exposing the blue satin bra she’d selected. She liked the way it contrasted with her skin. But more than that, she liked the way his fingers ran under the edge of the cups, causing her to rock her hips forward on top of him.

  “Mmm.” His cock pressed right against her most sensitive area, that eager bud desperate for all the attention. She couldn’t help herself. She bucked against him. He snaked his hands up the back of her tank top and fiddled with her bra strap.

  A moment later the fabric loosened. He tugged the cups down, her breasts spilling free. Delight shivered across his face.

  “Ana.” The way he said her name felt like fireworks on the inside. Screw whatever fireworks the city would have. His lips found the tight bud of one nipple, then the other. A low moan escaped her.

  “God, Noel.” She pinched her eyes shut, rolling her hips in a slow circle. Screw it. It was time to go all the way. Even if she shouldn’t. “Even when you say my name it’s hot.”

  His low chuckle made her thighs tense. He tugged her shawl off, then pulled the tank top up over her head. She was left facing him, every bit of her body on fire with anticipation.

  His big, brown hands squeezed around the smallest part of her waist while he thrust upward. His nostrils flared, the look in his eyes telling her everything she needed to know. He wanted her with an intensity that he hid too well up till now. Behind the professional veneer of palace meals and overseeing his father’s events, Noel was a raging ball of desire. For her.

  “If this is how we dry hump,” she breathed, hooking her arm around his neck, “I’m a little scared to see how you fuck.”

  Noel laughed into the valley of her breasts, taking a soft bite of t
he flesh there. He held her hips in place, grinding against her again. “You’ll know all about how I fuck. I plan to take my time with you.”

  The unspoken implication sizzled through her. Like maybe he was just as vulnerable to this explosive chemistry as she was. Like maybe he was limping through the days as well, waiting for a glimpse of her, a slave to the aphrodisiac of her profile.

  “Let’s just get these off already.” She fumbled with the silver buckle of his belt, trying but failing to make sense of it without making his lips leave the swell of her breasts. Noel grunted, then guided her down onto her back on the cushions. His warm hands slid down the curve of her waist, fire in his gaze.

  “You mean these, right?” He popped open the button of her shorts with his thumb. Her breath hitched, and all she could do was nod.

  Noel slid the shorts down her legs laboriously slowly. Then he tossed them aside, his gaze stuck on her sandals. He lifted each foot in turn, delicately, as if she might shatter if he rushed. He slid each sandal off, allowing them to clatter to the floor.

  “Feeling a little exposed here,” she said, pushing up onto her elbows. She wriggled with anticipation, his heated gaze sweeping up and down her body. “Let’s see it, Noel.”

  A devilish smirk crossed his face as he lowered his head to her ankle. He pressed a moist kiss there, his eyes on her as he kissed a slow, steady trail up her legs, bouncing between each side.

  “I already told you, Ana.” He rubbed his nose against the seam of her legs, urging them open. And then he took a bite of soft, sensitive inner thigh. “I plan to take my time with you.”

  She swallowed a yelp, watching almost deliriously, his black hair growing closer to the crotch of her panties. And then, without warning, without ceremony, he nuzzled his face against the center of her blue lace panties, the tips of his fingers pressing beneath the fabric. His thumb made slow circles over her damp folds, and her whole body tensed.

 

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