by Erin Snihur
Blushing at her sister’s insinuation, Teresa stares down at her son. Xavier’s bright green eyes land on her and his arms raise as he squeals. For the first time in months, the tears don’t fall and Teresa’s chest warms as she reaches down and picks up her son. Pressing her nose to his skin, Teresa breathes in.
“Are you going to be smelling your kid all day or are you going to get yourself sexy for your husband?” Samantha calls behind her. As Teresa turns to meet her sister’s gaze, Samantha’s eyes bug out and she struggles to make out words.
“Sammy?” Teresa asks.
Only when Samantha begins pointing at Teresa and then at her own breasts, does Teresa stare down at her chest. Around both nipples, are two large wet patches. Gasping, Teresa carefully sets Xavier down on the bed and rushes into the adjoining bathroom. Grabbing the breast pump, she packed, Teresa hooks it up as quickly as she can.
“I’m making milk!” Teresa cries out and for the first time in months, happy tears begin to fall.
“You go girl!” Samantha calls from the bedroom and Teresa hears her mutter under her breath to Xavier, “Your mommy is driving me crazy, kid!”
Peeking her head into the bathroom, Samantha smiles and completely ignores the sound of the breast pump that groans and moans with every pump. Xavier on her hip and a hanger in her other hand, Samantha bustles into the bathroom without a care in the world.
“I’ve found the perfect dress!” She squeals. Staring at the scrap of fabric in her sister’s hand, Teresa tries to contain her grimace.
Mom, give me strength.
15
Five days until Christmas...
“Why did I let you talk me into wearing heels?” Teresa grumbles as she fiddles with her hair in the mirror. Finally, she just lets it hang down her back in loose waves. Amoz had always said he liked her hair loose. Holding onto the wall for balance, Teresa finally turns around to face her sister who is sitting on her bed once more and gently pushing Xavier in his rocking swing with her foot. Swaying slightly in the heels, Teresa groans in pain.
“They’re too high!” She complains.
Scoffing, Samantha stands and walks around the rocking baby to take Teresa’s hand, “Nonsense. Your husband is too tall! How else are you going to be close enough to his face to steal a kiss?”
Blushing, Teresa’s mind instantly dives into the gutter as images of she and Amoz engaged in their passions fills her every thought.
Giggling, no doubt at Teresa’s red face, Samantha nudges her and wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, “Naughty sister. Your son is right there! Do you want another child so quickly?”
Rolling her eyes, Teresa raises her chin and marches over to her son, careful not to trip over her own gangly feet. She hasn’t worn heels or such a tight dress in so long. Before Xavier’s conception, she thought as she stares down at her sleeping son.
Leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, Teresa whispers, “Mommy and Daddy will be home soon, my sunshine.”
“Not too soon,” Samantha pipes up behind her, “If anyone is getting lucky tonight, it might as well be the married couple!”
Straightening, Teresa smiles at her sister and quickly pulls her into a hug, shutting her eyes from the tears that threatened to fall. Whispering softly into Samantha’s ear, “Thank you.” Teresa quickly pulls away as Samantha inhales a shuddered breath.
“Get out of here! Don’t keep your man waiting too long!” Samantha orders and slaps Teresa lightly on the thigh.
Heart fluttering, Teresa carefully exits the villa. All along the path, are twinkling lights giving way to the direction she must follow. Biting her lip, Teresa begins her walk towards the resort lobby. Not once does she encounter other guests or staff, but after being Amoz’ wife and Sheikha for so long, Teresa senses their security guards’ eyes on her.
Stepping into the almost empty lobby, Teresa scans the room, her eyes landing on the bartender cleaning the top of the bar with a rag. Needing liquid courage for tonight, but not wanting it to affect her breast milk, Teresa steps forward and smiles at the friendly man who bows slightly.
“Your Majesty, good evening. What can I get for you?”
“A virgin daquiri, please,” Teresa murmurs and takes a seat at the bar. Her husband is nowhere in sight. As her drink is delivered, Teresa takes a sip, happy to be off her feet in these ridiculous heels.
As she sips, a shadow falls over the candlelit room at her back and the familiar, spicy scent of cologne tickles her nose. Straightening in the bar stool, but not turning around completely, Teresa watches from her peripheral vision as the shadow emerges into the light and takes the bar stool next to her.
Taking another sip from her drink, Teresa waits. The shadowy image of the man in the dark suit that hugs his large frame is enough to cause her stomach to flutter. As the man finishes his order with the bartender, he turns and his husky voice croons in her ear, sending vibrations shooting down Teresa’s spine.
“What is a beautiful and intoxicating woman like yourself doing in a place like this, all alone?”
Humming to herself softly as she contemplates her answer, Teresa shoots the dark and handsome man a rueful grin, “My husband dragged me here. He thinks I’m crazy.”
The spell broken, Amoz’ strong hands spin Teresa’s barstool so that she is facing him as he gazes down at her in concern, “I never said you were crazy, ya helo.”
Laughing and waving her hand in the air, Teresa winks at her husband and finishes the rest of her drink, “I’m only teasing you, Amoz.”
Visibly relaxing, Amoz takes her hands and holds them in his. Teresa shudders as the warmth from his body delves deep inside her bones.
“I’m sorry for forcing you to come here,” Amoz murmurs and presses his lips below her wedding ring and band.
Teresa shakes her head as she murmurs softly, “You were right to bring us here.”
Breath catching in her throat, Teresa tries to continue, “I’m so sorry for being so diffi—”
Before Teresa can finish her sentence, Amoz places his finger on her lips, halting her speech.
“Never undermine your feelings, ya helo,” Amoz growls lowly, “I want you to be able to come to me if you are ever upset or are feeling inadequate.”
Teresa sighs and gazes around, thankful the bartender is cleaning glasses on the other side of the bar, “I’m so embarrassed. You must think I’m so weak.”
Smiling slightly, Amoz curses in Arabic under his breath as he squeezes her hands, “Never weak, ya helo. You are so strong. You are an amazing mother and wife.”
Gasping softly at his words, Teresa stares into her husband’s heated gaze as he continues, “And I know your mother would be proud of the woman you’ve become.”
Eyes welling up, Teresa forces them back and leans in towards Amoz to capture his lips with her own. Tingles shoot through her nerve endings and Teresa moans softly into her husband’s cautious mouth.
Nibbling slightly on his lip, Teresa whimpers in disappointment as Amoz pulls away, his voice deep and husky, “Go slow, Teresa.”
Eyebrows raise in confusion as Teresa tilts her head and whispers, “I’m not that fragile, Amoz. I won’t break.”
“No, but I just might.”
Growling deeply, Amoz presses his lower body against her hip to make his point. Teresa gasps at the feeling of him rubbing against her thigh. Hard, pulsing and so very warm beneath his dress pants.
Biting her bottom lip, Teresa gazes up at Amoz through her eyelashes and gives a soft tug on his tie, “Dinner can always wait…”
As her voice trails off, Amoz’ hands leisurely move down her back to softly cup her bottom, before releasing Teresa entirely as he brushes his nose against hers.
“Clever minx,” Amoz croons and then straightens as his hand leave her body and delves into his pocket, producing a slim resort key card.
“How would you like to break in the newly renovated honeymoon suite?” Amoz murmurs.
Eyes wide in delight,
Teresa lunges for the card and as quickly as she can in her high heels and starts marching towards the lobbies exit. Behind her, Teresa can hear Amoz’ deep laugh as he follows her, though not too closely. She can practically feel her husband’s eyes smoldering over her ass.
Gazing over her shoulder, Teresa squeals in delight as Amoz pounces and wraps her in his arms. Guiding her down the lit path, Amoz murmurs in her ear.
“Merry Christmas, ya helo.”
Teresa warms at his words. Their first Christmas together, as a family. They still had much to figure out and Teresa was thankful, they would figure it out together.
Always.
Masarat
Sheik Kasin and Amira
16
Seven days until Christmas...
Sheik Kasin Almasi glares stubbornly at the large screen drilled into the wall of his office. The tiny camera square showing Kasin as he paces around his office was clear as day. The larger image of the equally stubborn and serious face of his friend, Sheik Tariq Abadi of Hattan watches quietly as Kasin paces.
“We don’t even celebrate Christmas like the westerners do! Why must Amira and I travel to Hattan to spend this western holiday with you?” Kasin growls.
On the other side of the room, hidden in the corner as he silently observes the conversation, is Kasin’s friend and loyal head of security, Abel Sar, who shakes his head at his Sheik’s statement.
“Can’t you just do this one thing for me? Sophie doesn’t feel comfortable leaving Hattan and this will be our first Christmas together as a couple. I want it to be perfect!” Tariq snarls back, arms crossing as he glares at Kasin and his incessant pacing.
“It might not be safe! I won’t jeopardize my wife just because you want to play Santa with your girlfriend!” Kasin shouts, not caring as Abel’s eyebrows raise in slight shock.
“By Allah, Kasin, Hattan is as safe as Masarat. I’ve implemented many safety precautions. Besides, Sophie is looking forward to putting the past behind us and getting to know Amira. She’s the only wife out of our group that she has yet to meet,” Tariq pleads, “Please come.”
Then, Tariq’s eyes brighten and a scheming grin breaks out on his face, “As I recall, I helped you with your wife after she fled. You owe me, Kasin.”
Scoffing, Kasin waves his hand in the air, dismissing Tariq, “I brought my troops to Hattan to help you become Sheik. We are even.”
Eyes squinting, Tariq sighs and runs his hands through his hair, his shoulders dropping in defeat, “Fine, we are even. But you should still come. The others are and it wouldn’t be the same. Don’t you want your wife to have the perfect Christmas after five years of living in that mountain palace alone?”
Cursing under his breath, Kasin clenches his fists tightly. Tariq always knew how to push his buttons. Finally, he sighs, knowing Tariq was right. Amira would love to spend the holidays with their friends. She had been hinting at maybe spending time over the holidays visiting. Especially Teresa and Amoz. She’d fallen in love with Amoz’ sharp wit, Teresa’s kind nature and their bouncing baby boy. His wife had a soft spot for children. While all Kasin felt when he looked at a child was nervousness and anxiety. Reminders of the past. That’s all children amounted to.
“Fine,” Kasin growls ignoring his friends look of glee and Abel’s smirking face, “We will be there.”
“Excellent. See you in five days?” Tariq asks.
“Why not earlier? Amira and I can be there tomorrow and Amira can help Sophie prepare. That way she is not so nervous when everyone shows up.” Kasin’s wife still grew slightly intimidated around his friends. Even though she was welcomed and loved by all, her anxieties still manifested at odd times.
Shrugging, Tariq winks as he continues before signing off, “Perfect. You can help me with my gift for Sophie. I’ll have my people send your people the details.”
Turning to Abel once the screen is black, Kasin sighs and leans against his desk, “What have I gotten us into this time?”
Shrugging, Abel smirks at Kasin knowingly, “It can’t get any worse, my friend. Trust me. The holidays should only be filled with happiness.”
And perfection. If this first Christmas with Amira is to go well, it must be perfect.
The cool porcelain of the toilet rim had never felt so relieving as Sheikha Amira Almasi, took a breather from her rolling stomach and the upheaval that would surely follow. Groaning into the bowl, Amira’s eyes begin to well up with tears. What had she done to deserve this torment?
“My lady?” Her maid and faithful friend, Leetah’s soothing and sweet voice calls from beyond the bedroom, “Should I call for the doctor?”
Groaning, Amira shakes her head and feels immediate embarrassment at the realization that her friend cannot see her through the bathroom door. Rising on shaky legs, Amira grasps the countertop and pulls herself up to the sink and mirrors. Grimacing at her pale skin that clashes with her equally pale hair, Amira calls out to Leetah as she turns on the sink.
“No! I’m fine. I think it might be that the soup we had for dinner last night didn’t agree with me,” Amira’s shaky voice calls out.
Not seeming convinced, Leetah lets out a distinct snort, “Pardon me, my Lady, but you have never had issues when it comes to food before. Your stomach is very hardy.”
Sighing, Amira splashes cold water on her face and leans down to take a gulp of cool and refreshing water. Rinsing out her mouth, Amira carefully makes her way, on shaky legs, to the bathroom door, opening it and inwardly amused at the way Leetah jumps back. No doubt from pressing her ear to the door, listening for every sound Amira makes.
“I’m sure it was just the food, Leetah,” Amira murmurs and scans the chambers she and her husband, Kasin, share in Masarat’s capital palace. Newly restored to its former glory, Amira warms at the memories she and Kasin had made in their new home. Spending her first Christmas with Kasin as a married couple had to be perfect. Getting sick was not an option.
Stomach gurgling in protest as she moves towards the large bed dominating the room, Amira groans, “Could you tell Kasin I won’t be able to join him for lunch or the council meeting this afternoon? I think I just need a nap.”
Nodding, Leetah moves to help Amira slip out of her skirt and shirt until she is only in her undershirt and underwear, “Of course, my Lady.”
Groaning at the pain in her stomach, Amira chuckles pathetically, “How many times must I ask you to call me Amira?”
“Forever, I’m afraid,” Leetah croons back. Once Amira is safely tucked into the bed and the shades on the large windows closed, Leetah whispers, “I’ll check on you in a little bit. Try to get some rest. Ring the bell if you need me.”
Not even paying attention as Leetah departs, Amira’s eyes grow heavy with sleep and she quickly falls into a deep sleep, dreaming of her husband.
Not even aware of the growing life within her womb.
17
Seven days until Christmas…
Kasin scans the many reports he’d received from some of his generals stationed along the borders of Masarat. All reported peaceful findings. Though his friend and fellow Sheik, Khalid Abdul Majeed, had reported of northern tribes leaching into his own country and kidnapping people for ransom. This had not touched Masarat. Thank Allah.
Grumbling under his breath about foolish members of his counsel demanding more of an increase on taxes and the like, Kasin was so invested in his reading, he almost missed the sound of a soft knock at his door.
Strange, Amira knows she never has to knock?
Standing, Kasin calls out to the knocker, “Enter.”
The posted guard at the door enters, bowing lowly and sheepishly gazes up at Kasin, “I do apologize, your Majesty, but her Highness’ maid wishes to inform you that Her Highness is not feeling well and will not be attending lunch or this afternoon’s council meetings.”
Kasin tries to reign in his instinctual panic. He and Amira had gone over this. If something serious was wrong he would have been the
first to know. Waving his hand at the guard, Kasin murmurs, “Bring her in.”
Stepping to the side, the guard allows Amira’s maid, Leetah to enter. The young girl blushes under Kasin and the guards gaze as she enters and fiddles with the open sleeve of her dress. Bowing slightly at the waist, Leetah sheepishly smiles at Kasin.
“I’m sorry to intrude, your Highness, but her Majesty has been sick this morning and wishes to sleep for the remainder of the afternoon,” Leetah murmurs softly, eyes scanning his empty office. Kasin knows who the young girl is looking for. Her not so secret lover, his head of security, Abel. Amira thought their relationship cute and Kasin loved to tease Abel about it whenever given the chance.
“Have you sent for a doctor?” Kasin asks, immediately thinking back over the last twenty-four hours. Amira had been fine at dinner, though a little tired. Then after dinner and a walk through the gardens she had caught her second wind and they’d made passionate love late into the night. Amira never got sick. Her health was always something she had pride in, whereas a common cold caused Kasin to be in bed for days. Much to his wife’s amusement, she labeled Kasin’s ailments a man cold.
If Amira was truly sick, they would have to postpone their trip to Hattan. Kasin lingers on the thought of spending the holiday alone with his wife, instead of being surrounded by their many friends. Shaking his mind clear, Kasin inwardly grimaces at the realization that Leetah was talking and he wasn’t even paying attention.
“She claims it was the soup and wouldn’t let me call the doctor. But I’ve never seen her so sick before.”
Nodding in understanding, Kasin sets his reports on his desk and moves to walk around his desk when Abel appears. His eyes drift over Leetah in an unspoken question before hardening and turning on Kasin.
