Christmas with the Yared Sheikhs: The Complete Series

by North, Leslie

  She breezed along the hallway, showing no sign of slowing down. The front doors loomed ahead.

  “Maia,” he said, his voice breaking.

  But she didn’t care. She barreled on, her stride strong and purposeful. She burst through the front doors, and he watched her go down the steps, the wheels of the luggage clacking behind her. She got into the back of the waiting sedan, the doors clicking locked behind her. The driver got out a moment later to stow her luggage.

  Yonas hurried down the steps. This wasn’t over yet. Not now. Not like this. Not today.

  “Maia!” he pounded on the tinted window. “This is my fucking car, you know. If I tell him to stop, he stops.”

  The window rolled down, Maia’s face an impassive mask. One he didn’t even recognize.

  “Fuck,” she said, “you.”

  The car rolled off as the window rolled up, leaving Yonas in a quickly receding cloud of gravel dust and a rapidly ballooning sense of despair.

  He stood there for what felt like an hour, looking at the space the car had previously been parked in. What was he supposed to do now? He tugged at his hair and stomped up the steps, just as Shaia came through the main doors.

  “So what do you think?” she asked in Arabic, winking at him. “We on for the party?”

  He stared at her, unable to formulate a response, much less process what she’d asked him. Then it came crashing back to him—her whole reason for the surprise visit.

  She’d linked up with his buddies—Roli, Chester, and Abdul—to plan this epic New Year’s surprise. They’d encouraged her to make the trip to surprise their friend, whom they’d deemed down in the dumps recently. And it coincided with their own plans for the New Year to host a Maatkaran rager, since all their international plans had fallen through.

  Except what nobody knew was that Yonas had gone off the rails in his own right, by falling in love with Maia over the course of several extremely intense, intimate weeks at her side. And now, just the sight of Shaia irritated him.

  “I’m busy,” Yonas spat.

  “But I flew all this way,” Shaia whined, stamping her pointy heel. Yonas looked her up and down, tugging at the front of his hair. A month ago, she would have been the most welcome visitor he could have imagined. But now? He wished she’d just disappear.

  “Sorry,” he said, resting his hands on his hips. He couldn’t even look her in the eye. And she’d sent him so many nudes in the last month. All of which he had promptly deleted from his phone. “You should go.”

  She huffed, crossing her arms. “Are you serious? I thought we had something. I was so excited to surprise you. All of your friends helped me plan this.”

  “I’m not really in the mood to talk,” he said, brushing past her. “I have some things I need to deal with.”

  “Come to the party!” she called out after him, her voice echoing slightly down the hall. “I’ll be waiting for you!”

  Yonas strode toward his bedroom, mind roiling. He tapped out a quick text to Maia along the way, but paused before he sent it.

  He’d never seen Maia so upset. Then again, he’d never been caught in such a compromising position by anyone he felt even half as strongly for as he did Maia.

  Still, she’d said some hurtful things to him. And maybe her anger had stripped away the pretenses, boiled everything down to the solid truth.

  Deep down, she thought he was an immature fuckup. A playboy who couldn’t be trusted. And even though things had gotten really intense really fast, maybe this unfortunate circumstance was a much-needed brake pedal on something that had grown jungly and wild all too quickly.

  Yonas paced his bedroom, seeing only Maia in every corner. He saw her on the sectional, where’d she’d splayed out a week before, receiving him as hungrily as if she’d never made love in her entire life. He saw her on the comforter, which she ripped by balling her fists too tightly just a couple nights ago. He saw her in the closet, where she’d thumbed through every tunic and button-down he owned, organizing them according to sexiest fit.

  He even saw her in the bathroom, where she loved to brush her teeth naked, pushed up on tip-toes, grimacing into the mirror to make sure she didn’t miss a spot.

  And Julian. His chest ached as he sunk onto the bed. This wasn’t necessary. None of this heartache was necessary. She could have listened—she could have stayed. Instead, she’d chosen to walk out on him.

  Didn’t she know this shit was hard for him? He popped to his feet again, indignation bubbling inside of him. Yonas had been on his best behavior with her. He’d focused on work, he’d dedicated himself to her vision, to her body, to pleasing her in every way possible. And at the same time, he’d been his true self, letting her see the parts of him his own family didn’t, couldn’t anymore. It had only been four short weeks, but it might as well have been a lifetime.

  Because part of him had been ready to give that to her.

  But now? Screw it all. He was done with serious women, with intense practicality that bordered on insanity. Nope. It was time to go back to how things had been. Before Maia had come into the picture.

  That might be his only chance at saving himself. At licking the wounds clean, so they didn’t harden over and scar.

  So what might help?

  Yonas reached for his phone, thumbing through the contacts until he found his friend Roli’s number. His best buddies had planned a surprise for him. Might as well go see what that was all about.

  Yonas swallowed a knot in his throat and dialed.

  If Maia wanted to see a playboy, he’d show her what that looked like.

  17

  Maia wrung her hands, unable to look away from the clock.

  December 31. New Year’s Eve in Ragdar. Thirty minutes until midnight.

  The party roiled loud and boisterous around her, amplified by the cavernous sweep of the church ceiling. The location selection had been the utmost success: all the guests raved about the mixture of the sacred with the modern. Twinkle lights cast an ethereal glow around the perimeter of the sanctuary. Up near the front where the pulpit was, a traditional Maatkaran band played an upbeat dance that had guests twirling and stomping in all corners of the church. Beaming down from the walls were haunting yet beautiful murals depicting biblical scenes.

  But despite the beauty and success all around her, all she could do was watch the clock.

  She wanted Yonas to be here so badly she could almost cry. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since blowing up at him two days ago, and every bit of her wanted to send the text that simply said “I’m sorry.” But her pride refused to allow it. He needed to ask her for forgiveness.

  Still, she thought back on some of the things she’d said and cringed.

  She’d been so harsh. But where was his follow-up?

  He deserved it. It was the constant counsel in her brain. Except she feared she’d been so acidic that he might not come back around. She very well could have scared him out of the country for good, perhaps pushing him away, back to his wandering, listless trail. Never settling back home, never committing to anything.

  Tears pressed at the back of her throat, and she strolled along the perimeter of the party, trying to look happy. Nobody knew that she was upset about Yonas—except Iliana, of course, who was home with Julian. She intended to keep it that way. She didn’t want to broadcast the fact that she’d fallen for a prince and gotten hurt over it like every other girl in the history of time.

  But maybe he’d show up. Her gaze wandered hopefully back to the clock. Maybe he’d appear just in time for the clock to strike midnight, where they could share that kiss she’d so been hoping for. The one she’d been looking forward to without even realizing it. He’d sweep into the party, finally, dressed to kill in a dark suit or maybe even traditional clothes like his father and older brother had on. Their gazes would meet across the room.

  And then he’d come to her, sweep her into his arms, and their lips would meet at the strike of twelve.

  She s
wallowed a knot of emotion. Lord have mercy, she was acting crazy about this man.

  Ana, in the arms of Noel, her boyfriend, jostled into her as they drunk-danced past. The chef laughed, her cheeks pink. “Sorry! Didn’t see you there.”

  Maia offered a tight smile. “No worries. Have fun!”

  Ana and Noel’s laughter was swallowed up in the fray. Maia’s eyes went back to the front door. New guests would occasionally arrive, giving her hope that Yonas might be one of the late arrivals. It was so terribly his style. Being angry at her, pushing the envelope, showing up at the eleventh hour. It almost made her smile already.

  But no. Time ticked onward, and Yonas didn’t arrive.

  When the clock reached 11:58, the most desperate, hopeful part of her clung to the idea that he could still show up. All around her, the crowd of guests moved like a lazy river, pockets of people drifting more slowly than others. The band stopped abruptly, the chatter of excited guests taking over the church.

  Everyone shone with grins and shiny faces. Maia tried to keep her plasticized smile in place, but her cheeks quivered with the effort. Around her, the countdown began in Arabic. Five…four…three…

  Maia squeezed her eyes shut.

  At one, she’d confront the truth.

  Yonas wasn’t half the lover she thought he’d been. And she needed to cut her losses and move on. Immediately.

  Two.

  One.

  Champagne popping and squeals surrounded her, the noise filling the church so intensely it seemed the swell could lift her off the ground. And somehow, the noise chamber purified her. It made her clean again, filled her in a way that pushed clarity through.

  All she needed in life was Julian. She shouldn’t have gone searching for more.

  It might be a bitter pill to swallow, but it was the truth.

  Starting Monday, once the last of the decorations were taken down, she’d get to packing and they’d be heading home.

  * * *

  Yonas sighed, fanning at his face. The hotel room was approximately a billion degrees, and everyone in the room was drunk enough to think that gyrating to this shitty music was fun.

  He slunk against a wall, sliding down to his butt. He’d let Roli convince him to come here, even though Shaia was in attendance. His buddies had apologized for the ill-timed surprise, but really, they’d asked, couldn’t he just lighten up and enjoy it?

  So that’s what he was doing. Lightening up. Enjoying it.

  Shaia winked at him from across the hotel room, the tenth time she’d done so that night. Lightening up and enjoying it meant going with the usual flow. But this time, on this night, he wanted to be miles away from the usual flow.

  All he could think about was Maia. And Julian. Hearing his excited shrieks when Yonas showed him the Porsche engine. Remembering the tenderness on Maia’s face as Yonas wrapped up the last line of Julian’s favorite bedtime story.

  He might never fully forget the two of them. Yonas tugged at the front of his hair, the sweat prickling at his collar more annoying than anything else in his entire life.

  “Buddy!” Roli danced his way, jabbing his index fingers into the air. He’d drunk his fair portion of tequila that night. “Get up! Get up! Let’s dance!”

  Yonas scowled at him. Over Roli’s shoulder, Shaia appeared, draping herself around him.

  “Let’s dance, all of us,” she slurred.

  Yonas rolled his eyes. He shouldn’t have come here. Every ounce of his intuition had told him to stay away. And like an idiot, he’d shown up expecting something to be different.

  But this was how it always was. It was the same damn party. The same damn music. The same damn boring, uneventful shit.

  That was Maatkare. Always the same.

  “I gotta go,” Yonas blurted. Roli barely batted an eye.

  “Stay here,” he said, pinching an eye shut. “We’re just getting started.”

  Lights flashed, temporarily illuminating Roli in bursts. “I’m not feeling well, mate. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

  Roli displayed something like disappointment but danced off a moment later. Shaia was lost in the crowed. This was bullshit.

  Yonas stormed out of the room. Roli had rented the penthouse suite in one of the luxury hotels on the outskirts of town, which meant he was roughly twenty minutes away from the church where his family’s New Year’s party was taking place. Yonas checked his phone. 11:40 p.m.

  He had time to make it there by midnight. It seemed somehow right to go there.

  But also, it felt even more right to just leave. To flee. To do what he always did, which was escape and let the dust settle and then come back and sift through everyone’s disappointment.

  It was so much easier than dealing with their anger.

  Yonas stalked through the hotel, heading for the lower-level garage. He slid into the cool front seat of his SUV, blazing up the ramp to the cul-de-sac in front of the hotel, barely noticing the neatly placed palms or the dancing fountain lit up in hues of red and orange.

  Every bit of him craved Maia, but that’s what he couldn’t have. He needed to escape and let the holidays wind down. Once Maia was back in the US, he’d come back to Maatkare. That was the only solution that made sense.

  Even so, his chest hurt at the thought of not seeing Julian again. Of never kissing Maia’s cheeks in the early morning. Of never whisking them away to a magical afternoon full of laughter and surprises.

  When the clock on the console struck midnight, sadness trickled through his limbs. He should have been at the church with Maia. With his family. But he also needed this escape.

  Yonas drove as fast as he could along the desert roads, his headlights the only thing cutting through the expansive black of the night. The airport sat about thirty miles away from the hotel; it wasn’t a long drive.

  But somewhere near mile twenty, he heard a loud pop. Then his car began jerking. He couldn’t keep it heading straight.

  A flat tire. He swore, slowing to a stop.

  This couldn’t be real.

  Once he parked the car, he slid out onto the road, his feet hitting the asphalt of the isolated road. The world around him was eerily quiet, the only sound the hum of his SUV’s engine. If he stared long enough into the darkness, he could get totally disoriented. A shiver raced up his spine.

  He circled the SUV once, finding the back-left tire had popped. He had a spare…but didn’t know how to change it. Yonas reached for his phone, glancing up at the inky black sky. The heavens hung heavy and infinite above him. He gulped.

  The phone had no signal. He swore again, pocketing his phone. Now what? He headed toward the burst tire, kneeling in front of it. He’d only ever seen Noel change a tire once, and it had been some part of a demonstration to school kids. Yonas combed through his memories, trying to pluck something useful from the fog.

  He rummaged through the back of the SUV, looking for the spare tire kit. Everything took twice as long in the inky black night. Or maybe it was his own despair slowing him down.

  All he wanted was Maia. Emotion pressed at his throat as he clumsily removed the spare tire from the trunk. She would know how to lighten the mood. She would have had the perfect joke to crack—something about his royal ass not knowing how to change a tire. The imaginary joke made him smile.

  After a solid half hour of searching for tools followed by another half hour of fruitless attempts to change the tire, Yonas admitted defeat. He threw himself into the sand, facing the night sky. He got lost in the infinite blackness, the tiny pinpricks of light that spanned from here and now to the beginning of time.

  If this was his fate, then so be it. He’d wait here until someone drove by. Until he was forced to walk. Until Roli or the others noticed he’d never made it home.

  The longer he stared at the sky, the more he thought about Maia. He wanted her so badly it could snap bone. And staring up into the void made him realize: he couldn’t leave the country. Not when she was here. Not when Julian was here. Not whe
n curiosity prickled hot about what might come of the fact that they’d made love without a condom.

  He hardly noticed when headlights crested the horizon. A few moments later, a car pulled up. Yonas stared up at the newcomers in a daze.

  A family peered around the doors of a small car—a mother, a father, two children. The father asked, “Do you need help?”

  Yonas pushed to sitting, squinting against the brash light. He was almost disappointed they’d broken his middle-of-the-night reverie. “I do. My tire popped, and I can’t fix it.”

  The father wordlessly came to his assistance, deftly removing the old tire to replace it with the spare. The man and his wife talked about how they were on their way to a New Year’s Day party with family in a far-flung town. Yonas admitted he was on his way back to his family. Within twenty minutes, Yonas’s SUV was ready to go. He shook the hand of the unassuming miracle man.

  “Thank you,” was all he could say. The father bowed slightly.

  “Anything for a fellow family man.”

  The words rang in Yonas’s ears the whole way back to the palace.

  18

  Yonas appeared at his father’s office bright and early the next morning. New Year’s Day was technically a holiday, but he knew his father wouldn’t break his personal routine for anything. Each day started with Turkish coffee and the newspaper, no matter what. He knocked gently on his father’s office door.

  “Come in,” grumbled the old man.

  Yonas pushed inside. His father lifted a brow when his gaze landed on Yonas.

  “There you are,” he said, folding the paper and setting it down. “Finally.”

  “Did you miss me yesterday?”

  Sheikh Yared’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Yes. Though I’m pleased you’re still in the country. Where were you?”

  “Making a mistake. One that I intend to fix.” Yonas approached the desk slowly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his loose linen pants. “Father, I fell in love with Maia, but I hurt her. I didn’t go to the party last night because I didn’t want to face her. But now I want to show her that I’m serious. I’m more serious about her than anything in my entire life. How can I show her?”