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

by North, Leslie

  “I thought this day was about escaping work?” She lifted a brow.

  “Sand castle design is a different category.” Yonas huffed. “Didn’t you learn that in school?” A laugh burst past Maia’s lips.

  Time faded to a background blur as Yonas and Julian played, crafting a castle that was by all rights both elegant and absurd. Maia joined in on the fun, helping with the small details: the sweep of a turret, the ridges lining the moat. They had so much fun, Julian forgot all about wanting to get into the water. He only glanced that way once, and when he did, he shrieked, pointing to the sky.

  “Look, Mommy!” He hopped up and down, pointing at the giant object hovering in the sky. Yonas sat back on his heels in the sand, peering over the top of his sunglasses as it approached. “It’s a balloon!”

  Maia lowered her own sunglasses, mouth rounding as she assessed the hot air balloon. “Daaang. That’s a big one, buddy.”

  “I wanna go in it! I wanna go in it!”

  Yonas fought a grin. The next phase of his plan was unfolding nicely. The hot air balloon loomed closer—right on time for the beach landing he’d arranged.

  “It’s getting really close,” Maia murmured. Her gaze slid to Yonas. “This isn’t…”

  “What?”

  Her lips flattened, and she sent him a stern look over the edge of her glasses. “Is this hot air balloon for us?”

  Now he couldn’t hold the grin at bay any longer. “Perhaps. But only if you say you’d like to get in it.”

  A laugh rippled out of her. She shook her head, watching the green and yellow hot air balloon once more. “You are too much, Yonas Yared.”

  “Are you surprised?”

  Maia snorted. “Shocked the surprise pants right off of me.”

  Yonas bit his tongue on the lewd response that leapt to mind. They’d have plenty of time for repeats of last night. He’d make sure of it. But for now, this unexpectedly sweet family day was turning out better than even he’d imagined.

  Being with Julian and Maia was so easy it almost felt familiar. Like they’d been doing this together for years. Maybe since the beginning. As the hot air balloon gently touched down on the far side of the beach, Julian broke into a run to greet it, shouting and skipping along the way. Maia and Yonas followed in his sandy trail. The enthusiasm was contagious; spending time with Maia was amazing, but sharing time with her son made it even better.

  So good, in fact, that he didn’t want it to end. Not just the day, but having them within reach. Accessible. Ready to make happy memories.

  If they were in Maatkare, he wanted to be here too.

  12

  Maia’s world became a merry-go-round—the most lavish, elegant, and fastest-swirling carousel she’d ever accidentally boarded. Busy days at the palace blurred into fun and delicious evenings. Yonas spent the night almost every night—with Iliana’s blessing, of course—and nearly every day featured a new activity with Julian.

  It was when they were visiting Yonas’s garage for the fourth time that week when it hit Maia: she was falling for Yonas. Somewhere between Julian’s excited squeaks and Yonas showing off the shiny silver wheel wells, it stung her like a surprise slap across the cheek.

  And what hurt more than the surprise slap was the inevitable bruise. Yonas could only break her heart. He was designed for breaking hearts. A twenty-five-year-old sheikh with washboard abs and enough toys at his fingertips to distract himself for a lifetime. What would he want with a workaholic mom and her son? Certainly not a happily ever after.

  Besides, she didn’t even know if she wanted that. She frowned, kicking at the rubber tire of some go-kart monstrosity. Yonas had explained what it was, multiple times even, but she couldn’t pull her head out of the clouds. Just looking at him anymore provoked a heart clench and a wave of warmth.

  This was bad. She was in deep.

  She took a cleansing breath, looking around the garage but only seeing Yonas. She saw him in his sleek black sports car; in the parachute draped over the far wall. She saw him in the shiny black SUV that looked more surveillance unit than leisure vehicle. She saw him in all the shiniest, most expensive things that the richest people of the world utilized and expected.

  And here she was, a lowly 2005 Corolla, hanging with the Lamborghinis.

  “Maia?”

  Yonas’s voice cut through her fog. She startled and turned on her heel. Yonas looked over at her as he peered under the hood of a car, Julian eager and bouncing in front of him.

  “Sorry, what?”

  His dark eyes glinted from across the garage. That look could send her to her knees even before she’d fallen for him. Now, a glance like that was fatal. “Do you mind if we start the car?”

  “Pleaaaase, Mommy?”

  She smiled. “Go for it.”

  “And a ride to follow?” Yonas asked.

  She sighed, leaning against the car behind her. Until she realized it was the actual Lamborghini. She stood straight, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Yonas sent her a flat look.

  “Sure. Yeah. Go for a ride. But slowly,” she said.

  “Yaaay!” Julian hopped up and down, prancing in a jerky circle around the car. Maia sank back into her thoughts as she vacantly watched them pile into the car. The rumble filled the space as one of the garage doors slid upward. She smiled into the square of sunlight that hit the cement floor.

  So she’d fallen for the sheikh. She waved as Julian peered out the window, his hand flapping excitedly. Yonas made the car rumble on his slow crawl outside the garage.

  And her son had fallen for the sheikh too.

  No big deal. The smile felt strained as she headed for the driveway, where Yonas had paused the bright red Porsche. If there was one thing she shouldn’t have done with her life, it was move to a foreign country only to fall in love with the definition of a non-attached transient. Not only was Yonas constantly on the move, there was no way he could be even remotely interested in anything beyond having sex for a few weeks.

  And in theory, that’s all Maia wanted too. Except it wasn’t the whole story.

  She’d wanted love. A partner. Someone to share her joys and triumphs and stresses. She’d wanted it since the beginning, but since the nasty breakup, she’d convinced herself she just wanted some space.

  But she didn’t. As the shiny red Porsche glittered along the winding driveway, she knew that what she wanted—still—was the reassuring security of her other half.

  She’d thought her ex had been the perfect other half, but really, she’d been enamored with his stability. His boringness. His uncanny resemblance to her banker father. Behind the dependability was his secret desire to change her, to meld her into a boring, cookie-cutter version of himself. Their first home purchase was what did them in. He wanted the walls to be muted gray, all the floors white, exactly like every rental apartment ever conceived in the United States. As if her profession and passion could just be discarded, overlooked, a forgotten accessory to be packed away in the closet.

  So apparently her mistake in her last relationship had led her here: overcompensating now by finding someone without an ounce of stability. She rubbed at her temples, starting a slow pace along the line separating the garage from the driveway. In the distance, the Porsche revved. She could just imagine Julian’s tinkling laughter. She smiled despite the tumult in her heart.

  It was too much to think about. She had four weeks left, and the last few were going to be some of the most intense. If she had any sense left, she should let things cool with Yonas until they chilled. Then, when it came time for her to board the plane and fly home with Julian, all they’d be missing was their acquaintance Yonas.

  Besides—if she didn’t let things start to chill now, then she’d never get the plans ready for New Year’s Eve. It was the next big party on the docket, and she needed to get a complete proposal ready to present to Sheikh Yared. Sondra, the event planner, was pushing for a meeting about it.

  The Porsche rumbled up to the garage a fe
w minutes later. She must have looked stressed, because Yonas’s brows were drawn together when he stepped out of the car. Julian bounded out a second later, prancing around her, shrieking about the cool car.

  “What’s wrong, Maia?”

  She drew a deep breath, trying to slough off whatever wouldn’t leave her alone. She didn’t want to admit the truth—that she was trying to envision a happily-ever-after with Yonas and coming up blank. She smiled down at Julian, stroking his hair.

  “Nothing.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She forced herself to look at Yonas. “Why do you ask?”

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Maia laughed as Julian bounded over to Yonas and begged for a second ride. Yonas grinned down at him. “Sorry, only one per day. Tomorrow we can try again.” Yonas looked up at Maia again. “So?”

  “I’ve got a lot of my mind today, I guess,” she said, mind working overtime to find the right excuse. “Just been thinking about this New Year’s Eve party. I haven’t figured out the theme yet.”

  “Oh. Well let’s think together, shall we?” Yonas came over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What have you ruled out so far?”

  She laughed weakly. The weight of his arm around her felt good. She’d miss that. Along with the way he did genuinely want to help. The enthusiasm he brought to everything he turned his attention to. He was truly a bright spot in her recent history. She didn’t want to forget that. “Well, my initial thoughts were black and gold…kind of a starry night theme.” She swallowed a knot in her throat. “But I think that’s overdone.”

  “Hmm. Yes.” They began a slow walk across the garage, heading back toward the palace. Julian skipped ahead, singing nonsense songs. “Well, what about something grand, grander than ever before? Like we could turn the palace into a funhouse.”

  She snorted. “Yonas. That is wildly impractical.”

  “Is it? I’ve got the money to do it.” His hand slid to her lower back, rubbing a slow circle there. “We could put in a spiral slide. From the third floor down to the pool. Line it with twinkle lights and confetti guns.”

  “Okay, now it sounds like we asked Julian what he’d like to see.”

  Yonas’s grin widened. “Fine. But that should be the theme. Grander than ever before. What’s your favorite band?”

  “Uh…” She pinched an eye shut, trying to reorient to his abrupt subject change. “The Foo Fighters?”

  “Excellent. We’ll invite them. As well as the four other top rock bands of the moment.” His voice had a faraway, misty quality. Like he was already at this epic New Year’s Eve party in his mind.

  She laughed despite his horrible ideas. This was so far beyond her reach as the decorator. “Yonas. That is absurd. I’m handling the decorations; I’m not the event planner.”

  “Fine.” He pushed open the heavy door sealing off the garage; Julian raced through, skipping patterns in the sloping hill of the lawns ahead. Sunlight glinted off his honeyed hair. A wave of contentment washed through her, leaving her limbs soft and warm in its wake. This. This was perfect. The palace. The air. Her boys around her. She bit her lip, studying the ground, trying to tamp down the swell of emotion. Part of her never wanted to leave. Four weeks in, four to go. She never imagined she might actually feel like putting down roots in Maatkare.

  “The thing is,” she pressed on, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice, “your ideas have nothing to do with Maatkare.”

  Yonas feigned an insulted look, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “The Foo Fighters are the definition of Maatkare.”

  She snorted. “Sure. And Maatkare was founded in a funhouse, am I right?”

  He pinched at her side. “You have a point.” He was quiet for a moment, the only sounds the twittering of birds somewhere on the grounds and their footsteps scuffing over the pebbled path. “How about this? I’ll take you to the real heart of Maatkare.” He grabbed her hand between both of his, brining her knuckles up to his lips. “Let’s go see the holiday puppet shows.”

  13

  The puppet show was tucked into the back room of a business in the center of Ragdar. A velvety black curtain lined the back wall, with everyone crowded inside on folding chairs or standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Curry and sweat hung in the air.

  Yonas guided them toward the back of the audience, popping Julian up onto his shoulders to see above the sea of heads. The lights dimmed, the chatter of Arabic and French falling to a hush. Julian wriggled on Yonas’s shoulders. Maia reached up to squeeze his leg, and a soft waft of her fragrance reached him.

  Yonas smiled into the darkness. He loved how she smelled—vanilla and laundry—and even the brief whiff set his pulse racing. He gripped Julian’s shins as the puppet show began. The curtain opened just enough to reveal a large wooden box. The performers sat hidden behind the miniature stage area, where three worn but beloved hand puppets bopped around.

  Yonas had a perma-grin for the entire show. This was the stuff of his childhood holiday memories—these old-timey hand puppets in their medieval clothing, garish painted makeup, and ruffian adventures.

  Julian leaned down a couple times to whisper, “What are they saying?”

  Yonas offered a concise explanation when possible. All of the puppets’ adventures focused on the holidays and the Orthodox celebrations of Maatkare, with plenty of humor woven through.

  Once the lights came back on and the show had ended, Yonas appraised Maia. “So? What did you think?”

  “I understood about ten percent,” she said, pressing herself against the wall as people filed past them. “But it was so precious.”

  “I used to come here all the time as a boy,” Yonas said. Once there was a bit more room, he allowed Julian to slide down to his feet. Once his feet touched the ground, Julian hopped in an excited circle.

  “Where now? Where now?”

  Maia and Yonas shared a grin. “I have an idea,” Yonas said. “Let’s go on a nighttime walk.”

  “What do you think, honey?” Maia reached out to ruffle her son’s hair. “Do we trust the sheikh?”

  “Yes, trust the seek! Trust the seek!”

  His mispronunciation made Yonas smile. As they shuffled out of the cramped back room, Yonas checked his phone. He lifted a brow—thirteen messages had come in during the puppet show.

  All from Shaia.

  He swiped his phone off before he could glimpse a single message. Too little too late from her. Reading through her messages now would only bring him down. He’d write back later and let her down properly.

  They stepped through the squat doorway onto the cobblestone street outside. The scent of roasting corn reached him. The moon shone high in the sky, amber lights dotting the cramped street.

  “Where to?” Maia asked, looking up at him.

  Yonas jerked his chin toward a park across the street. A wrought iron fence lined a diamond-shaped green space, with a few trees growing tall and strong in the center. They walked the perimeter slowly as Julian asked questions about everything—where did the sun go, why was the fence open in one part, where did the puppets sleep at night.

  Yonas received each question with joy—the boy had curiosities that reminded Yonas of the majesty of the world around them. Seeing the world through Julian’s eyes refreshed him. Made him realize that Ragdar was much more interesting than he’d acknowledged.

  Their lazy stroll led them to the west end of the city center. A church loomed up ahead, the stained-glass windows illuminated in the moonlight. Maia hummed low in her throat.

  “This.” She let a whistle. “Wow. What a church.”

  Yonas looked over it. The place had been abandoned for a few years, and he’d scooped it up in an auction. “Do you like it?”

  “Uh, yeah. It’s fascinating.” Few people were on the streets in this sector, which lent an additional touch of reverence to the moment. It seemed they were the only people in the world. Beholding this church. While the moon looked on.
<
br />   “I own it,” he said.

  She lifted a brow. “Do you mean like, you own it like you own everything in this city?”

  “No. I specifically bought this church four years ago.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side as he assessed it. “In fact, I’d rather forgotten that I’d done it.”

  She clucked her tongue. “Well, whaddya know. If I had enough money to buy property and then entirely forget about it…”

  He nudged her. “It’s easy to do. If you like to dabble in real estate like I do.”

  “Well, explain. What was the church supposed to be for?”

  He shrugged. “I forget. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He trailed off, pinching an eye shut as he thought. “One of my friends might have brought up the idea of starting a nightclub.”

  She shook her head, her lips forming a thin line. “No. This place can’t be a nightclub. It’s too sacred.”

  “Well, Maatkare needed—still needs—a place that young people can come to enjoy themselves. Like me, for instance.”

  “Are there no clubs or bars around here? I mean, Ragdar isn’t small.”

  Yonas shrugged. “Sure. Bars and things. But nothing truly hopping.” He scoffed. “If we had something like that, I might be inclined to stick around a bit more.”

  Her gaze darkened. “So one solid nightclub and you’d learn to love your family?”

  Something in her tone rubbed him the wrong way. He worked his jaw back and forth as he watched her, trying to gauge his own reaction. “I suppose there’s a bit more to it than that. Unless you think I’m so shallow.”

  “Well, I hardly think one hopping nightclub is the solution to anyone’s problems.”

  His nostrils flared. “No, but it’s not a crime to have an outlet either.”

  Silence stretched between them; he could tell from her heated gaze that plenty roiled beneath the surface. Just when he thought it had dissipated, she crossed her arms over her chest. “So what’s stopping you from turning it into this club? You need your outlet so bad, why don’t you make it?”