His father creased his brow, his gaze drifting to the wide wooden desk. He was quiet for a long time.
“You must show her exactly that,” he finally said. “Show her that you want something serious and long-term. That you want stability.”
“But how do I do that?”
Mischief flashed in his father’s eyes for a second. “It took me two years to convince your mother to marry me. If that type of persistence doesn’t say long-term, then I’m not sure what does.”
Yonas ruminated on his father’s advice for a few hours as he paced his bedroom, trying to piece together a plan. He called Robel and Noel and a few members of the Downtown Ragdar Association, looking for leads. And then finally the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. He was ready for Maia.
Yonas drove to Iliana’s house with his heart in his throat. Every inch of him worried that it was too late. Though only a few days had passed, Maia might not be willing to let him in again.
He raced up to Iliana’s front door and knocked. She pulled open the door a moment later, her brown eyes wide with confusion.
“Yonas, what’s wrong?”
“I need Maia,” he blurted.
“She’s not here,” she said. His stomach pitched to the bottoms of his feet. “I’m sorry.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s finishing up at the church,” she said softly, as if maybe she wasn’t supposed to be admitting it. “From the New Year’s party last night.”
Yonas barely said goodbye before breaking into a run. The church was only six blocks from Iliana’s house, and somehow, driving and parking seemed longer than booking it on foot.
He ran as fast and hard as he could, breezing past pedestrians enjoying the cool morning air of the new year, leaving plenty of people gaping after him with confusion on their faces. When he reached the church, he was heaving, but he couldn’t slow down. He raced up the steps and burst into the church.
The scene before him was astounding. The previously unused, vacant expanse still bore the traces of an epic party. Streamers littered the aisles, and the twinkle lights crisscrossed the front of the church, forming a makeshift expanse of stars. He sucked in a breath, tilting his head back. Balloons had been released, filling the vaulted ceiling. And all around him, the haunting murals stared down in various states of judgement or shock.
What a party to miss.
Rustling caught his attention. At the front of the church, Maia was on a ladder. He approached slowly, not wanting to disturb her quite yet. He wanted these few moments of just watching her—taking her in. Before she lobbed more insults or anger.
Julian bounced into view. He was skipping circles around the base of her ladder. He could hear her tut softly as Julian came a little too close to the base.
Yonas’s heart burst open and spilled everywhere. How could he have ever deigned to leave these people? These two beautiful people who meant more to him now than almost anyone else. And not only them, but his family. He’d always been running away. Now he just wanted to stay.
Julian shrieked. He’d spotted Yonas. The little boy bounded toward him, arms outstretched. Yonas couldn’t help but smile and bend down to receive him. Julian launched into his arms, the joy overcoming him.
Yonas hugged him so hard that he thought he might break the boy in two. When he stood, Maia had descended from the ladder, her arms crossed over her chest.
She didn’t say a word as he approached.
“Mommy, do you see who’s here?” Julian asked.
“Yes, honey.”
The vitriol was gone from her voice. Instead, she sounded defeated. Or maybe exhausted. Yonas approached slowly.
“Hi,” he said.
She didn’t say anything.
“Mommy, he said ‘hi,’” Julian reminded her.
“Hi, Yonas,” Maia said curtly, turning to face the ladder again. “What can I help you with?”
“Maia,” he said softly, squeezing Julian’s hand for strength. “My sweet. Please talk to me.”
Maia faced away from him for a few more moments. But when she turned to him, there were tears shimmering in her eyes.
“I came to show you something,” Yonas said quickly, pulling out some papers from his back pocket. This was what he’d been working on all morning. He cleared his throat, unrolling them. “I think you might be interested in this.”
Maia eyed him suspiciously, but finally snatched the papers from him.
“I know you’re upset with me. I’m upset with me. But not for the reasons you imagine.” He paused, trying to gauge her interest. She was watching him, at least. That was a start. “What you saw at the palace wasn’t anything. It’s true I was talking to Shaia before I met you. But that ended the second you and I kissed. She showed up because my friends encouraged her to. They didn’t know about us. They didn’t know what we had.”
Maia bit her lip. The first break in her defense.
“I’m sorry you saw that,” he went on. “But I’m even more sorry I didn’t come to the party last night.” Yonas shook his head, looking all around. “You worked so hard on this. And I wasn’t here to support you.”
Maia’s bottom lips trembled. Julian raced around the pulpit, his excited shouts echoing through the church.
“I wish I could say I tried to come. But I didn’t. I went to my friend’s party because I was angry at you, had a horrible time, and then got a flat tire as I tried to drive to the airport.” He released a humorless laugh. “But I’m not looking to escape this time. And not anymore. Because I want to stay here.” He paused, letting the quiet fill the space between them. “With you.”
“Okay,” she finally said. “And how is that going to happen?
He pointed to the papers. “Right there. That’s how.”
Her gaze fell to the papers again. She was quiet as she read.
“It’s a contract. Offered to you by the city of Ragdar. It’s a two-year position to act as the official decorator of the government buildings.” Yonas paused, anxiety nearly breaking him in two. He couldn’t bear waiting for her answer. “Please stick around,” he whispered. “I don’t want to spend the next two years without you.”
Julian zipped by. Maia’s gaze danced over Yonas’s face, and he couldn’t read her expression.
“Next two years, huh?” She looked down at the contract again.
“I want to show you I’m serious,” he said softly. He swallowed a knot in his throat and stepped closer. “Even if you tell me to fuck off…I’ll still be here. Waiting for you.”
A smile quirked her lips. “Waiting, huh? Right here?”
Something in her tone bolstered him. “Yes. I won’t move an inch.”
Her gaze swung back up to find his. Happiness jolted through him. He wanted to look into her eyes for as long as he could. For way longer than two years. Until the end of time.
“So this would make me a Maatkaran resident.” It was a question disguised as a statement. He nodded.
“Yes. And an official palace resident, if you’d have it,” he said.
She tilted her head to the side. “I could probably handle that.”
“You could even put up those same garish decorations every Christmas,” he went on, unable to fight the grin now. “I won’t say a word.”
She laughed as if she hadn’t wanted to. “I doubt that. It’s hard for you to not say a word.”
“I’d accuse you of the same,” he went on.
Silence fell between them while Julian started hopping over cracks in the floor. Yonas grinned as he watched the boy, then his gaze drifted over the expansive space. A rueful sigh escaped him. “This place is incredible. I’d like to see more things done with it.”
“Like what?”
He hadn’t even thought it through, not fully. But the answer was tumbling from his lips as though the idea had been lurking inside him all along. “Something for kids. Something for Maatkare.” He paused, already seeing the dim outline of a vision forming. “An arts
center. Maybe the new home of the puppet shows.”
“Yaaay! Puppet shows!” Julian crowed as he danced by.
Yonas laughed, kneeling down to snag the boy by the waist. “Would you like that? The official Maatkaran puppet show home, right here in this church? You can be my advisor, so we get it perfect. If your mom says it’s all right.”
Julian cheered. When Yonas looked up, Maia looked thoughtful.
“That’s not a bad idea,” she whispered. “Much better than your previous idea.”
“Yeah, well, let’s just say that was Previous Yonas. Current Yonas has come to realize some things are more important than nightclubs and escapes.”
Her face fell. “Sorry I called you a whore the other day.”
“It’s okay. No hard feelings. I’m sorry I called you a bitch. Will you stay in Maatkare with me, Maia?”
Something so sweet and pure shivered between them that it nearly made him forget about the final gesture. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the treat he’d managed to track down via Ana. He handed the tiny chocolate to her. A grin spread across her face.
“Please, Maia.” He watched as she covered her mouth with one hand, inspecting the brown and white wrapper. “Take a chance on a Tootsie Roll.”
Her body shook with contained laughter, and then she flung her arms out and wrapped him in a hug. It wasn’t long before Julian joined the mix.
Happiness hummed through his body. He had everything he wanted right here.
Right in his home.
Right here in Maatkare.
End of The Sheikh’s Christmas Family
Christmas With The Yared Sheikhs Book Two
Blurb
Ah, chaos. What would any holiday be like without it?
For Sondra Wilson-Woods, who craves order but has a knack for handling disorder, pulling off a traditional Maatkare Christmas is the ultimate accomplishment. Hired to make the kingdom’s Advent season a success, despite the absence of their beloved matriarch, Sondra may have taken on more than she can handle—especially when the gorgeous heir to the kingdom, Robel, decides she needs his help.
But despite her best efforts, each of Sondra’s plans go awry, and not even Robel, with his meticulous preparation, seems capable of mapping out an event that will go off without a hitch. If Sondra can just get through this Christmas season successfully, she and her orphaned niece will at least have financial security. And if she can just resist the charms of an infuriating Robel, she can leave Maatkare with her heart intact.
Robel loves order and is more than happy to help out their event planner when a broken ankle leaves him palace-bound. He firmly believes if he plans well enough, nothing can detract from the traditional Maatkare Christmas season that he demands. But as each carefully scripted event goes off the rails, Robel finds himself more and more attracted to Sondra—something that was never part of the plan. It’s best to end things before it’s too late, before saying good-bye is too difficult.
Too bad Robel’s strategy forgot about protecting his heart.
When faced with the worst Christmas morning ever, Robel realizes that it’s the untraditional and unplanned moments that bring the brightest light.
1
Click tap.
Click tap.
Robel gritted his teeth. Only day two of being on crutches, and the incessant noisiness of them on the palace floors was enough to drive him mad.
Click tap.
He sighed testily, leaning against one of the crutches. His armpits ached from the constant usage, but hell if he’d stop crutching around the palace. The hairline fracture in his ankle wasn’t going to stop him from being useful. From keeping this place together.
Especially now, during the Christmas season.
Click tap. Click tap. His own motivation would be the death of him. And really, that’s what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Eager to prove to the palace just how much of a stickler to tradition he was, he’d pushed himself to overperform during one of the traditional holiday games. And here he was.
Miserable and overly motivated.
Up ahead, the door to his office was visible. Not much longer now. Soon he’d be able to sink back into his favorite chair and get to work organizing the rest of his day, week, and year. Becoming unexpectedly laid up put a serious dent in his plans, and he wasn’t one for surprises. His planner featured far more X’s and red pen than he usually liked to see.
He sighed with relief once he heard the familiar creak of his office door. Inside, everything was quiet and organized. His chair pushed in beneath the desk, facing the door squarely. His entire desk clear and polished, save the laptop closed and pushed to the far corner. The wood slats over the large back window cast shafts of sunlight onto the tiled floor.
Click tap. He huffed, tossing the crutches aside as he sank into the desk chair.
Right on time. And exactly fifteen minutes before his first appointment of the afternoon showed up: the new event planner his father had hired. An American who, in Robel’s mind, was going a bit off the rails with some of the event guest lists.
Luckily, he’d happened to see the proposed guest lists while visiting his father that morning. He’d demanded to play a greater role in the holiday event planning—if only to make sure it stuck as closely to tradition as possible. And perhaps feeling sorry for him, his father Yared had agreed.
Robel opened his laptop, skimming emails and responding to a select few. His phone vibrated at 1:43. The two-minute warning. Keys clicked as he fired off a response email.
1:46. He frowned, looking at the door. Nobody.
He looked at one more email, his skin prickling with awareness as time ticked on. He checked his phone again. 1:49.
His jaw tightened. Just as he was about to swipe open his phone and call the American himself, a knock sounded on his door.
“Come in,” he shouted gruffly.
The door creaked open. A blonde head poked through, hair chopped to a short bob. Robel blinked. Pale brown eyes shone over at him, a smile revealing a slight gap between front teeth.
“Hello?” The woman laughed daintily.
Robel blinked again. He jerked his gaze away from her, trying to reorient himself. He stared at his laptop but couldn’t read a single thing on the screen. “Come in. You must be…”
“Sondra.” The blonde stepped forward. Though her smile was dazzling, it didn’t distract him from the rest of her. She wore an off-the-shoulder sweater and a flowy skirt, but her hips and breasts pushed beneath the material enough to suggest a potential wonderland of curves beneath. He straightened his back, jerking his gaze to his phone.
“Sondra. Pleasure to meet you.” He pushed his palms on the top of his desk to help him stand without using his bad ankle, bowing as was common in Maatkare. “I’m Robel. The eldest son of Sheikh Yared.”
“Nice to meet you.” She clasped her hands behind her back, tilting her head as she looked around the office. “So what can I help you with?”
Robel’s heart raced as he eased back into his seat. What had he wanted? The sight of her had wiped everything clean.
His gaze slid back to her. Sondra. He hadn’t expected her to be this beautiful. He hadn’t expected anything, really. And now?
Part of him was glad he’d fractured his ankle. Otherwise, he might not have thought twice about the guest lists. And maybe he wouldn’t have spotted this beauty at all.
* * *
Sondra tilted her head, time ticking onward as the eldest Yared son continued to size her up.
Being called to his office was odd enough. Having no apparent agenda was even odder.
“Please sit,” he finally said, turning to his laptop. She plopped into the chair facing his desk. He tapped something out on his keyboard, and her mind began to wander. To her to-do lists…to the upcoming events she was pegged to plan. To the horrible warnings Robel’s twin little sisters Sesuna and Winta had lobbed at her just prior to this meeting.
“He�
��s such a boring old man,” Sesuna had complained. “He’s practically two hundred years old in his head.”
“And he never lets us do the fun things,” Winta had added.
Sondra appraised him freely as he typed. The man was handsome, that much was clear. If he was two hundred years old in his head, he was every inch a thirty-something on the outside. He had a long, aristocratic nose and a square jaw that begged to be photographed in profile. His eyes were dark—practically brown pools—and his very demeanor suggested royalty and order.
Finally, he cleared his throat, pushing his laptop aside. He laced his fingers together, leaning forward.
“You need to change the guest list for the upcoming charity function.”
Sondra blinked, the words almost nonsensical. Then a smile tugged at her lips. “You’re kidding, right?”
“You plan to invite half of the orphanage in the city center.”
“Yes,” Sondra said slowly, her brow knitting, “Because Sesuna and Winta are eager for more children their age to be involved.”
Leaning back into his chair, Robel released a disgusted sigh. “Sesuna and Winta? You’re letting thirteen-year-olds guide your event planning?”
Sondra opened her mouth to reply but then clamped it shut. He was actually upset. Or maybe he was always like this. She wasn’t entirely sure, but either way, she needed to speak carefully. Even if Robel wasn’t her official boss, he was a superior. And she needed this job, almost more than she needed air.
Her entire life depended on the money she’d make at the Yared palace.
“They’re not guiding, but influencing.” Sondra rolled her lips inward, contemplating the ceiling for a moment. “Holidays are very important to children. I’d almost argue they’re more for them than anyone. Their ideas matter to me.”
Christmas with the Yared Sheikhs: The Complete Series Page 21