The Sheikh’s Christmas Family: Christmas With The Yared Sheikhs Book Two

by North, Leslie

  That would be ideal. Yonas kept his mouth shut. His phone vibrated with an incoming text message so he switched it to speaker phone so he could read the new text.

  “I want you to personally oversee the successful completion of our new decorator’s tasks for the rest of the season,” his father went on. Yonas opened his messages. His friend Roli had written him.

  “Sorry, bro, the weekend in Dubai won’t be happening. Found out we’re heading to Indo for my aunt’s party. Let’s try in a few weeks.”

  Another cancelled weekend plan. Disappointment crashed through him just as his father said, “Are you listening?”

  “Yes, Father.” Yonas gritted his teeth.

  “You help the decorator, and you apologize to her personally. You are a sheikh. You should act like one.”

  Yonas tugged at the front of his hair, discontent rumbling through him. He was hungover, tired, irritated by cancelled plans, and now being chastised like a five-year-old. “Yes, Father.”

  Another notification lit up his screen. It was from Shaia—his love interest of the moment. They’d never met in person, but he was more than excited to meet her after exchanging some scintillating photos.

  “Hey, are you around?” Shaia wrote in their chat app.

  Yonas stared at her words, ready to respond but feeling the sting of his father’s words. “I promise you don’t have to worry.” In his head, he added, because with any luck at all, I’ll be out of Maatkare.

  “Very good. I’ll see you at lunch.”

  His father hung up, and Yonas let a few moments of silence go by before he swiped back to the chat with Shaia. Like letting the storm cloud pass. His father wasn’t wrong, but Yonas hated the familiar song and dance of his father’s disappointment. Yet it wasn’t enough to convince Yonas to change anything either.

  He was the youngest of the three boys, but more than that, he’d been pegged early on with his immutable traits that he couldn’t shake no matter what: the screw-up. The playboy. The irresponsible one.

  It was easier to escape to the outside world where his family’s judgments didn’t weight on him like a shackle. Where he could be the confident, fun, put-together royal prince that everyone oohed and aahed over, like they’d admired Noel and Robel for Yonas’s entire life.

  Dots appeared in the chat screen as Shaia typed. Then her message popped up. “So I’m not sure about you coming here.”

  He groaned and flopped back onto the bed. Here it was. The mother of all letdowns. He and Shaia had been talking for weeks. She wasn’t great to talk to, but she was interesting enough. Huge boobs. Tiny waist. The standard glossy black hair that attracted any man in his age bracket. He needed the arm candy, the distraction. And now, he was back to square one.

  “What happened?” he typed to her.

  “I’ve got some things going on last minute,” she wrote in Arabic. “Can we do next weekend?”

  This was the third time she’d rescheduled. She was stringing him along, and he was done with it. He frowned, typing out a fast response. “Just let me know whenever you find the time for a sheikh of Maatkare.”

  He tossed his phone, more than ready to step away from it for a few hours. He scowled as he headed for the bathroom, running through the standard routine of hangover hygiene: scrubbing the sour taste of alcohol off his tongue with his toothbrush, gripping the edge of the countertop as he assessed his face, shaking his head with disappointment.

  Twenty-five. A sheikh. Moderately good looking. A full six pack. This was supposed to be the best time of his life. Yet he couldn’t even get a booty call to work out.

  And now he had to go help make the palace look even uglier at the side of that American.

  He got dressed quickly, his mind making lazy paths between alternatives to weekend getaways and what this American decorator might have in store for him. Maybe he’d apologize and that would be that. Or maybe she’d put him to work on something truly frightful. Like one of those rainbow LED Christmas trees he’d seen once while visiting New York City.

  He didn’t even know her name, but through the fog of his drunkenness last night, he was pretty sure he remembered what she looked like. Shiny brown hair, glasses…and that kiss. He paused as he pulled a tunic over his head, the memory of that kiss rolling down his spine. He’d forgotten. And holy hell—what a kiss that had been.

  Maybe finding the decorator again wouldn’t be so bad. Not if he could coax another kiss out of the mix.

  Yonas tugged on some khaki linen pants and rolled up the sleeves of his black tunic. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth down the wild pieces, and then set out to find the decorator.

  He headed for the foyer where he’d run into her last night. The majority of the decorations had been removed already, a vast difference from the night before. He slowed his steps as he heard the soft undertones of music, something electronic sounding. He rounded a corner, finding a ladder propped against the wall. Bits of plaster on the ground had been pushed into a neat pile near the wall.

  And there she was. The decorator. Up on the ladder, reaching for something.

  Yonas cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He knew how to play the remorseful part. He waited for her to notice him.

  She didn’t. Maybe it was the music. He went over to the Bluetooth speaker and snapped it off. The decorator gasped, twisting around to look down.

  She scoffed when she saw him. “Oh. Great. It’s you again. Can you turn that back on?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.” He watched her carefully, drinking her in with sober eyes. Her voice was husky, held an edge like a smoker. Except she looked to be about his age, maybe mid-twenties, her hair braided back into short pigtails. She looked every inch the westerner in overalls and a tank top. She squinted down at him.

  “Well I don’t want to talk to you. So you can turn the music back on, thanks.”

  Yonas bit at his upper lip. He hadn’t expected her to put up resistance. “I’m sorry for how I behaved last night.”

  Silence filled the space between them. She twisted down to look at him again, her features softer.

  “Oh. Well…that’s nice.”

  He blinked. “Nice?”

  She sniffed, turning back to her work. “Didn’t expect you to apologize is all. Did your daddy make you?”

  He lobbed a sigh. He’d be upset if only she weren’t right. “We spoke. And he reminded me that I was in the wrong. I’d like to help you complete your work. If you’ll allow it.”

  More tense silence emerged. She grabbed for a star hanging from the wall sconce.

  “Has your father demanded it?”

  Yonas clenched his teeth and looked away down the hallway. “Perhaps.”

  “Then that sounds like an obligation if I’ve ever heard one.” She sent a sarcastic smile down to him before climbing down the ladder. She hopped onto the floor, her shoes thudding on the marble. Her perfume reached him—amber and something husky. Like her voice.

  He inhaled sharply when she looked up at him, rubbing a palm on her overalls. He remembered those eyes—this gaze had seared through even his drunk fog the night before.

  But he’d forgotten how pretty she was. Soft lines, a heart-shaped face, tan skin that urged him to see more. She looked glossy, like an off-duty lingerie model.

  “Or maybe you really want to help?”

  Her question brought him back to the moment. His fingers twitched with the urge to close the space between them.

  “I do,” he said. And there was some truth buried in there. He wanted to be near her, at least.

  “Great.” She shoved the stars she’d collected while up on the ladder into his hands. “Let’s get started.”

  4

  Maia was aware of every step Yonas took in her wake. He was somehow hotter in the light of day, or maybe his late morning stupor made him seem less cocky. More tolerable.

  “Put those over there.” She pointed at a pile of Tupperware containers and things that a
waited organization. As he dropped off the stars, she crossed her arms, sizing him up. It was hard not to think of his soft lips when she looked at him. “Hey, Yonas?”

  “Yes?”

  “What’s my name?”

  He looked up at her, guilt flashing only momentarily. “Uh…The Decorator?”

  She frowned, shaking her head. Rich guys were too egocentric for their own good. And this one could kiss and ruin, without even bothering to learn her name. It was a joke to him. It probably always would be.

  “Real funny.” She headed for the container farthest away from him and knelt down to organize. “I actually don’t need your help anymore. You’re dismissed. Goodbye.”

  Yonas came over to her, kneeling beside her. “It was supposed to be a joke.”

  “Hilarious. I’m just the hired help to you—I know. I don’t have a name or a life or any worth. Carry on with your day, Yonas.”

  “Hey.” Something sharp in his tone made her look up at him. His brows formed a hard ridge. “That’s not funny either. I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Well you’re wrong, then.” He rummaged into the container next to her, seemingly mimicking her own actions. “Please tell me your name. I forgot to ask last night before you stormed away.”

  She took a few breaths, mulling over her response. He annoyed her, far more than even made sense. She barely knew him—just his reputation and their shoddy first encounter the night before. But something about him triggered her.

  “It’s Maia,” she snapped. She pushed the lid on her container closed. “But you can go.”

  “Maia.” The way he said her name almost made her stop in her tracks. His voice was honey, and she was a parched piece of toast. He grabbed her wrist, and she inhaled sharply. The warmth of his grip felt too good. “Don’t throw me out. I promise to do better.”

  She made the mistake of looking down and meeting that dark chocolatey gaze. The neat trim of his black hair at the sides; the unruly tuft at the front; the collarbone that protruded at the top of his shirt, giving way to an expanse beneath she would give almost anything to see.

  He was too damn hot. And now that he was laying on the charm? This was hopeless.

  “Fine.” She snatched her wrist back. “You can help.” The place where his fingers had touched her skin sizzled. He was made of pure pheromones.

  “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

  “We’re packing up these things, and I’ll be bringing out a new round of decorations for the upcoming event.” She paused as raucous giggling echoed down the hallway. A moment later, the Yared twins arrived. Sesuna and Winta, the thirteen-year-old identical girls, the youngest of the Yared clan. They loved to hang around Maia as she worked and had promised to show up today.

  Sesuna gasped when she saw Yonas, babbling at him in Arabic. Maia didn’t need to speak the language to know the girl was thrilled to see her older brother. Sesuna launched herself into Yonas’s arms, and then Winta did the same. The trio spoke in energetic Arabic as Yonas spun each of them around in turn. Maia fought to hide her smile.

  “We’re here to help,” Winta said a few moments later in her accented English. The girls liked to practice their English with her and were fascinated by the tricks she used to decorate their home. Maia smiled brightly at the girls.

  “Our brother is helping too,” Sesuna said proudly, bringing Yonas over by the hand. A genuine smile graced Yonas’s face as he looked down at his sister. Maia tried not to let the display of affection melt her resistance to Yonas.

  “So many Yared siblings to help me,” Maia said. Seeing the girls often made her think about her son, Julian—who she wasn’t able to see as much as she liked while working at the palace. The twins would love him, but having him around would be a major impediment to making the deadlines of the holiday schedule. “I’m sure with three of you, we’ll be able to work three times as fast.”

  “Six times as fast!” Winta quipped.

  “Ten times as fast!” Sesuna added.

  Maia looked at Yonas, lifting a brow. “Anything you’d like to add?”

  He shook his head, a heartbreaking dimple flashing in his cheek. “I generally like to go as slowly as possible. Although I might be talking about something else.”

  Her cheeks heated once his meaning hit. She sighed tersely, turning away from him. Imagining him drawing out intercourse—yeah, this was neither the time nor the place for those thoughts. Even though she would not mind at all finding out just how good he was in bed.

  Maia gave each of her workers different tasks, running through the to-do list in her mind as she oversaw the final packing of the decorations. Sheikh Yared had wanted the first parties to feature the hyper-traditional Western decorations—complete with Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer—which would then segue into more traditional Maatkaran decorations as the season progressed.

  For the next round, Maia had planned a pine-garland-heavy approach with lots of ivory and gold. There would be one large Western Christmas tree, but that was it, decorated in muted tones of maroon and gold.

  They progressed decently well, though Yonas frequently stopped working to entertain his sisters with whatever implement was nearby. He made the process more fun than it normally was. He was something of a natural clown, and it was hard to not laugh at his antics.

  At one point, Yonas bopped Winta on the head with a long cardboard tube. She gasped, grasping at her hair.

  “Yonaaas!” she cried. Then she rattled off a long string of Arabic. When Maia made her way over to Yonas, she nudged him.

  “What was that about?”

  “I messed up her hair,” he said, laughing softly. “They’re teenagers now. I forget sometimes.”

  The girls ran off to sift through a large box of ornaments. Maia unfurled garland as she watched them.

  “You’re a good big brother,” she finally said. “They really love you.”

  “I suppose I am,” he said. “I’m generally gone this time of year, though. Not so good of a big brother.”

  Maia glanced up at him, desire streaking through her. It was impossible to even see the man without wanting to strip him down. “Why are you generally gone?”

  He shrugged, bending the cardboard tube in half, then again. “Just like to get away. Family, you know? They can be annoying.”

  She frowned at the garland she was unraveling. Fake pine needles shed to the floor. From across the foyer, Winta shrieked.

  “That’s unfortunate to hear,” she finally said. And then she realized: this was the crux of her annoyance with him. He had everything she’d always wanted in life—a big family. And he usually escaped them. By choice. “Even your sisters?”

  He sighed, tossing the tube into a small pile of trash they’d started. “My father. My brothers. Even my aunts sometimes. Everyone is in each other’s business constantly.” He paused, watching her for a moment. “You must not have a big family if you can’t commiserate.”

  She bristled. “I don’t. I always wanted one, as a matter of fact.” She unfurled the last bit of garland. “I was adopted and an only child.” Yonas didn’t say anything, just grunted a moment later. Then he walked away.

  Maia squashed the urge to find out where he was going and instead got to work twining the columns with garland. Yonas returned a few minutes later, holding something out for her in his hand.

  “I brought us some sweets,” he said, flashing a grin. She glanced at the wrapper then back at his face. When she didn’t respond immediately, he added, “They aren’t as delicious as I am, but I think the candy will tide you over.”

  She snorted, snatching up the candy. She hated how aware he was of his own handsomeness, but even more she hated how right he was in teasing her about it. “The candy is fine, thanks. You’re probably like Tootsie Rolls anyway. They look good from the outside but once you bite into one, you wonder why you wanted it in the first place.”

  Yonas glanced up at her as he unwrapped h
is candy, amusement shining in his eyes. “Ouch.”

  She shrugged. She’d never gotten anywhere in life by sugarcoating herself around men. And she was even less inclined to pussyfoot around them since ending the underwhelming relationship with her son’s father a year ago. She’d thought she was making the safe choice, the right choice, by staying reserved around the man who’d promised to be her life mate. Even though he was a little sexist, a little hotheaded, and a little boring—he was better than nothing.

  Only through trying—and failing—to raise Julian together did she realize that nothing was a lot better than her ex. And staying meek around men just to not piss them off was no longer her MO.

  “You might think I’m this Tootsie Roll treat you speak of,” Yonas said, and then bit into the candy. He hummed with appreciation. “But really you’ll find I’m the most delicious sweet date you’ve ever had.”

  She unwrapped her candy, finding a sweet date inside. She smirked, looking up at him.

  “You assume I even want to taste you.” She popped the date in her mouth. It had a creamy filling, but what, she couldn’t say. It was delicious.

  “It’s no secret that many women find me attractive.” He sent her a disarming smile. “But gorgeous women like yourself can almost never stay away.”

  There was a compliment buried in his words—but also a confirmation of his rumored playboy status. She sighed, tossing the candy wrapper.

  “I’m sorry to be the first one to break your record, then. If you’ll recall, last night’s kiss was only because you bargained for it.”

  Yonas narrowed his eyes at her, but the satisfied smile on his face told her just how much he liked the banter. And truth was…she did too, a little. She’d kept her nose to the grindstone for long enough, ignoring everything and everyone except for her son and her bank account. This flirtatious dance was fun, as long as it stayed within her boundaries.

  And her boundaries demanded absolutely nothing more than work assistance and the occasional sweet treat. Even though the deepest part of her was desperate to see where those kisses last night might have led.