Besides, part of her suspected that he felt every inch of this just as she did. How could he not? Their sex was passionate, practically life-changing, as if it altered their very DNA somehow. She might never be the same after meeting Yonas Yared. And that couldn’t possibly be one-sided.
Still, the dark doubts lingered. Whispered cruel things. Like maybe every love interest of his was like this. That whoever he’d been messaging before her was just the most recent casualty of the playboy Yared brother. Maybe she was next in line.
She pushed back the dark thoughts on her way to the palace. By the time the car slowed, nearing the front doors, she was ready to open the door and barrel roll out. She stumbled as she got out of the car, tripping over the gravel pathway. She scampered up the steps to the main doors, lovesick fool that she was, heading to Yonas’s bedroom on auto-pilot. She could find her way to his room in the dark. Blindfolded. Missing part of her brain, even.
She knocked quickly before pushing the door open. “Yonas?”
No response. The room was quiet, the bed still neatly made from that morning. If Yonas had been back, the covers would at least be rumpled. She frowned, pulling the door shut again. A palace employee came her way, and she stopped him, asking in French if he’d seen Yonas.
The employee gestured toward the back gardens, saying that Yonas was receiving a guest back there. Perfect. Maia thanked him and scurried along.
The jasmine and lavender wafting through the air made her smile as she headed through the palace gardens. The packed gravel paths wound around neatly trimmed bushes, past award-winning roses. A fountain burbled as she walked by, the sound of voices finally reaching her.
Yonas’s voice. Arabic. Her pulse quickened.
He wasn’t expecting her, which would mean he wouldn’t be expecting the serious conversation. She needed this advantage. She worried that alerting him that she wanted to talk might hail the heartbreaking turn of events. No, she wanted this to be as genuine and honest as possible. It needed to be a surprise attack. She just wanted him to confirm or deny this rapidly growing sensation of—she wouldn’t use the word love—attachment, possibility in her chest. Tell her she was crazy. Or spot-on.
She just needed to know.
Maia was breathless by the time she rounded the corner to a small sitting area nestled in the back gardens. A feminine giggle set her on high alert. And once she took stock of her surroundings, she realized her intuition had picked up on this far earlier than her senses.
Across the way, in front of a fountain with a giant bear standing tall in the center, a woman who could only be a Middle Eastern model giggled with her arms thrown around Yonas’s neck. She looked up at him, batting eyelashes so thick they had to be fake. She wore a skintight dress, more like spray paint than fabric.
And Yonas held her there, his hands on her forearms. He smiled down at her like she was the queen of the world. Or at least of Maatkare, which maybe she would be someday once Yonas decided to marry her and spend the rest of his life with her.
Shame shuddered through her, followed by heat. The anger. The betrayal. The surprise.
She couldn’t even force herself to move. All she could do was stand there and watch. The shiny-haired model said something probably seductive in Arabic, to which Yonas shook his head.
And then he looked up.
Yonas’s black eyes found her immediately, and the air between them went so taut it might as well have snapped. Every cell in her body told her to run. But she couldn’t leave. Not when the train wreck was still happening before her very eyes.
Yonas took his hands off his beautiful guest. His brows knit into a dark line. Confirmation of guilt. Everything happened in slow motion, as though the universe wanted her to see just how wrong she’d been. His dark-haired queen stepped backwards, her slim calves flexing in the sky-high heels she wore. She turned too, but Maia had had enough.
She spun on her heel, rushing away from the gardens. She didn’t need Yonas’s explanation. The situation had been obvious the second she’d stumbled back there. And it wasn’t the details that mattered. It was the feeling. His kneejerk reaction had betrayed Yonas. The oh fuck she saw me look that couldn’t be faked, or replicated, or imagined.
Maia headed straight for the bedroom Julian stayed in each night. Thankfully, it would be easy to pack his things. She hadn’t brought much over. She still took him to Iliana’s house each day, since her friend loved spending time with him. At least he wouldn’t be here to ask questions, though she could imagine them as well as if he were next to her: Mommy, why are we leaving? Mommy, why are you packing so fast? Mommy, why are you crying?
She wiped away a tear that had fallen. She should have known better. She’d gone all in on a man who’d showed signs from the beginning that he was every ounce a playboy.
Finding him with another woman in his arms made her wonder what he’d done on the few nights they’d spent apart. And she’d been stupid enough to make love to him without a condom. What if she was pregnant? After such a horrible discovery?
Humiliation consumed her, and she was a roiling mess of self-pity and hatred. Footsteps pounded down the hallway and then into the bedroom. A moment later, hands gripped her wrists. Through the sheen of tears, a blurry vision of Yonas wavered before her.
“Maia.”
His warm palm cupped her face, but it only made her angry. She jerked away. “Don’t you touch me.”
“Maia, please listen to me.”
“I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” She continued packing, putting all of Julian’s tiny things into the big black suitcase.
“Come on,” he said, his voice cracking. “You can’t be upset about this.”
“Can’t I?” She laughed dryly. “Pretty sure I can be. You’re a fucking liar and a cheat. I’m out of here.”
Yonas stayed quiet for a few moments, which unnerved her. And somehow confirmed his guilt. Finally, he said, “I didn’t tell her to come here. She just showed up.”
“Who even is she?” she asked, her voice wild.
“Shaia—” he began.
“Oh, I don’t fucking care,” she interrupted. “You’re a whore; that’s all that matters.”
Her heart thudded so loudly she could barely hear anything else. Yonas got down on his knees, trying to insert himself into her line of vision.
“Maia, please let me explain.”
“I don’t care,” she said, more forcefully this time. She dared to meet his gaze, fire licking through her veins. “I’m done here. I’m done with you.” She sniffed, unable to control the vitriol spewing from her. She hurt—and this was how she showed it. “You’re just a playboy fuckup. And I’ve known it all along.”
16
Yonas’s world shuddered to a jerky stop. Everything unfolding in front of him seemed surreal; he’d suddenly slipped into a dream where he absolutely knew he was asleep but somehow couldn’t shake himself awake.
“You don’t have to be such a bitch,” he spat, her razor-edged words finally hitting where she’d intended.
“A bitch?” She looked up at him with wild eyes. “So am I supposed to just accept the fact that you’ve probably been sleeping with a whole cheerleading team of women behind my back since I got here?’
“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “If you’d let me explain—”
“I don’t need to be mansplained,” she said, her voice tight. She zipped up the luggage she’d packed, the sound ripping through the room. “I have a son, I have a career, and I have a life that means something. I don’t need some immature fuckup like you to ruin any aspect of that. Goodbye.”
Maia stormed past him, leaving the air taut and ugly in her wake. Her jabs had stolen the breath out of his lungs. But this wasn’t over. He raced after her, heart pounding between his ears.
“Immature fuckup?” he challenged. “What about the woman who won’t even have a civil conversation?”
She scoffed, her breakneck pace toward the front of the palace
not wavering for a second. “To establish what? That you’re exactly who I suspected you were since the beginning? Come on.”
“You know me,” he insisted, her lack of faith cutting through to his core. Every part of him was wilting, and the worst part of all was that Shaia still lurked somewhere on the grounds. If he could have cast her out even five minutes earlier and avoided this whole fiasco, he would have. “You know who I actually am. And fuck, Maia, you’re right—I was a whore. But that’s not true anymore. God, can you listen to me for a second?”
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 swallowed 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.
The Sheikh’s Christmas Family: Christmas With The Yared Sheikhs Book Two Page 9