“I should be off,” he said quietly, receiving the crutches from her. When his gaze met hers, she swore there was sizzle and spark there. And that confirmed it: this had been flirting. “See you tomorrow?”
Sondra nodded, following him to the door. She sent him a smile, wishing for more time with him but unsure how to get it. What had originally come off as a sexy but unbreakable exterior now shone with cracks betraying something soft and interesting underneath. “See you tomorrow, Robel.”
4
Robel tossed and turned as much as the stupid cast would allow. He drifted off into dreamless sleep only to be awakened by a jolt of lavender. As though Sondra had entered his room. When he opened an eye to peer around the dark bedroom, she wasn’t there.
Of course she wasn’t. It was just his subconscious playing tricks on him. The clock glared “5:00” from his nightstand. Pre-ankle fracture, he’d normally be getting up around this time to get in some laps in the palace pool or take a slow jog somewhere. In the old days, he and his brothers had exercised daily together. But then Noel turned into a competitive runner, and Yonas’s preference switched to cycling.
He missed those days. Robel draped his arm over his eyes. He missed a lot of things about the past. But this year, most of all, he missed his mother.
And maybe that’s what his crusade against the event planner was really about. If they couldn’t have Christmas with mother, then they’d have the most perfect, traditional Christmas in her place. One for the history books. One that would light up his mother’s face from Switzerland as she received all the photos and articles showcasing their hard work.
Robel tried to drift back to sleep, but all he could manage was a strange dreamworld limbo where thoughts mingled with fantasies. He wasn’t sure how much time had gone by before he found himself thinking of Sondra’s laugh. The way she always looked out for him, worried about him. Her no-nonsense approach to work, something he shared equally. Soon he was undressing Sondra in his mind. Exploring all those soft, womanly curves beneath the thin fabric of the shirts she wore. Her skin would smell like lavender. Breasts big enough to fill each palm and then some.
He jolted fully awake, his cock hard and hungry. He groaned and rolled onto his stomach, trapping his erection against the mattress. He couldn’t think about Sondra like that. Or rather, he could, but only in here, the privacy of his own bedroom. Last night, something had shifted between them. Because he’d let it shift.
He’d lowered his steel fortress for a fraction of a second and the conversation immediately turned to her assets. Of course. The one thing he needed to not think about while in her presence. Robel sighed, lifting his head to check the clock. Almost eight. As good a time as any to start the day.
His went through his morning routine intolerably slowly, entire body stiff and foreign, as though everything else had fractured alongside his ankle. Four more weeks of this. Miserable. He grabbed at his crutches angrily, hobbling toward his closet.
He woke up most mornings feeling like this. Disgruntled. Pissed. But now, on top of all that, there was the hot simmer of attraction.
He knew exactly how to take the edge off too. What would help him feel the best. But jacking off to Sondra’s image seemed wrong somehow. And starting an affair was totally out of the question.
It wasn’t his style to lust after palace employees, much less seasonal ones who would be gone by the middle of January.
Robel grumbled as he dressed in a dark brown tunic and linen pants and grumbled as he made his way toward the breakfast nook. The grumbling stopped when he spotted Sondra in the corner of the nook, looking out the window, an infant hoisted on her hip.
Like before, all his frustration dissipated once he caught sight of that shiny blonde bob and the glorious curve of her hip. Today she was wearing tapered khaki pants with a smart but slouchy purple sweater. Robel paused, his gaze washing over the scene. Morning light bathed her in white and gold as she swayed, humming softly.
The twins entered behind him a moment later. They screeched at the sight of Sondra, bypassing Robel entirely.
“She’s up! She’s up!” Sesuna danced in a circle around Sondra and the child. The baby in her arms clapped, reaching for Sesuna.
Sondra smiled brightly at the twins, that adorable gap showing between her front teeth. Then her gaze swept up to find Robel. Warmth shivered through him.
“Good morning.” Robel maneuvered brusquely to the table, setting his crutches aside as he eased into the chair at the head of the table. She hadn’t mentioned having a child. If there was a child, there was surely a father back home. He’d been silly to even think of Sondra that way. It would end now.
“Morning.” Sondra used the baby’s hand to wave at him and entertained the girls for a few moments by dipping the baby close to them and then back away again. Robel reached for the morning paper, trying to ignore the giggles and shrieks. He opened it up, blocking his view entirely of Sondra, the baby, and his sisters.
He tried to read the day’s headlines but couldn’t focus. All he could hear was Sondra’s low murmur and throaty laugh as his twin sisters bopped around, playing with the baby. He nearly jumped when the palace employee arrived with his typical breakfast: flat bread surrounded by nuts, cheese, and homemade jam, and a pot of steaming black tea.
He folded the newspaper up, resolving not to watch Sondra or his sisters. The girls sat down at the table a moment later. Sesuna reached onto his plate and snagged a piece of his flatbread.
“No touching,” he admonished in Arabic. He smacked her wrist lightly but let her have it anyway. Sondra came up to the edge of the table. He glanced her way.
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked.
“Yes. We’re just hanging around, postponing the start of the work day.” Sondra snuggled the side of the baby’s face. Wispy blonde hairs sprang up from the top of the baby’s head. “Robel, I’d like you to meet Nessa.”
“Hello, Nessa,” Robel said flatly, nodding toward the child, who had twisted away from Sondra, reaching for Winta. “Very nice.”
Sondra snorted, swaying back and forth while Nessa gurgled. “Yes. She is nice.
Robel stifled the questions swirling inside him, focusing instead on his breakfast. Sesuna and Winta chattered in their own invented language interspersed with Arabic while Sondra moved back toward the window. Finally, Robel couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.
“And where is Nessa’s father? Surely he can’t be thrilled to be so far away from his daughter.”
Sondra looked back over her shoulder at him, warning written in her gaze. She glanced toward the twins, then back at Robel. “We’ll have to talk about that later.”
Robel wiped at his mouth with his napkin then pushed to standing. Gathering his crutches, he resolved to not care anymore. There was drama behind that look. And that was the last thing he needed in life. “No need. Just making light conversation. Have a good morning.”
He excused himself from the nook as fast as he could. Sondra was a non-option, and he needed to get that through his head. She was beautiful. That was enough.
Steps sounded down the hallway behind him a moment later.
“Robel!” It was Sondra. “Hang on a second.”
He paused, turning, gritting his teeth as her glorious breasts bounced under the soft material of her sweater. Nessa giggled as Sondra jogged toward him.
“I forgot to tell you. Tonight is the first event, the letter-writing event at the orphanage. Will you be coming?”
He paused, his gaze washing over her. He wanted to do anything that meant being in her presence more. It would just mean he’d have to curtail the fantasies. Easier said than done. “Certainly. What time?”
“Seven. I already arranged the light dinner fare from that restaurant you recommended earlier this week.”
Robel nodded, putting his weight on his good foot. “Will your daughter be coming?”
“Oh, uh…” Sondra glanced down at Nessa, then back up at Robel.
In a quieter voice, almost like a confession, she said, “Nessa isn’t my daughter.”
Relief flooded him, but he wasn’t sure why. Somehow, this eradicated a potential husband somewhere in the world. But that was silly—she could have a husband without a baby. But whose baby was it? He was more curious than he wanted to admit. Just as he was about to say something, Nessa started grunting.
“Oh, Lord.” Sondra laughed, hoisting the baby higher. “That’s my warning. She’s ready for a diaper change.”
“Let me assist you,” Robel blurted before he could tame his tongue.
Sondra lifted a brow. “Seriously?”
Robel allowed a smile to sneak through. “Of course. I know what I’m doing. I helped raise my sisters, after all.”
Sondra looked pleased, maybe even a little disbelieving. The type of look he wanted to inspire more often. “Well then. Let’s see just how good you are.”
5
There was nothing sexier than a man who knew what to do with a baby.
And while Robel didn’t exactly have the warmest introduction to Nessa, he sure knew how to get her to warm up to him.
“Are you ready?” Robel asked in a cooing voice. His accent in baby speak was adorable on a whole different level. “Are you ready for a diaper change?”
Nessa shrieked and giggled on the changing table. Robel lifted her bum, peeling away the wet diaper. He expertly wrapped and tossed it in the pail without ever breaking Nessa’s gaze.
“So you do know your way around a changing table,” Sondra mused, crossing her arms. “Very nice.”
“That’s what happens when your baby sisters are almost twenty years younger than you,” he mused. “They could have been my daughters.”
“Yes.” Sondra’s chest tightened. She did want children—but for now, Nessa was more than enough. Nessa was hers. “Nessa could be my daughter. She’s my niece, though.”
“Where are her parents?” Robel asked, slipping a clean diaper under Nessa without batting an eye.
“They passed away earlier this year.” Sondra cleared her throat, feeling the familiar tightness in her limbs take over. It had happened only six months ago. And what hurt Sondra more than anything was that Nessa would never have her own memories of her beautiful parents. “A car crash. Nessa was just a couple months old.”
Robel’s brow furrowed, and he paused, looking down at Nessa with softer eyes. “What a tragedy.”
“It was.” Sondra blew out a breath she’d been holding without realizing. Some days, the loss still didn’t seem real. Especially being so far away, part of her held out hope that when she went back to the US early next year, her sister and brother-in-law would be waiting for them as though nothing had happened. Like this was just a fun adventure for Nessa.
“And you offered to raise her?”
“There really wasn’t any other option. My parents are getting too old. My brother-in-law only had his father left, who is in a nursing home. It was me or…the system.” Sondra shivered, just thinking about it. “How could I say no to my niece? I love her as though she’s my own. She is my daughter now, as far as I’m concerned.”
“You’re very good to have taken her in,” Robel said quietly, snapping her onesie. Once she was all set, Robel sat her up, holding her by the chest so she didn’t topple off the changing table. Nessa flapped her arms, looking between the two of them. “She’s a very sweet girl.”
“Yes, she is.” Sondra picked Nessa up just as a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Sondra wiped away a tear that had spilled. “That must be the nanny. She comes every morning at nine to watch her while I work.”
Robel gripped the bar of his crutches, his gaze like soldering steel. “Do you want to take her with you? You could, you know. Nobody would object.”
Sondra smiled, warmed by his consideration. “I appreciate that. However, I do need some time away to get my planning and organization done. I drop in often to see her, though.” She gave Nessa a squeeze before heading for the main door of her bedroom. She tugged it open to the middle-aged nanny waiting with a smile.
Robel greeted her in Arabic. The sound of his gruff voice sent a zip down her spine. She snuggled Nessa one last time before passing her off to the nanny, who had curiosity dancing in her gaze. Suddenly, Sondra realized the scene: she was alone with Robel in her bedroom. This early in the morning. It probably suggested much more than what was there.
Even if she wouldn’t mind at all taking it there.
Robel and Sondra left the room, and once the door was shut behind them, Sondra spun to address Robel.
“She won’t…say anything, will she?” she asked in a low voice.
“What do you mean?” Robel had pure innocence on his face.
She gave him look that said come on. “It looks kind of suspicious that you were in my room so early. Don’t you think?”
Robel grimaced, and she couldn’t tell if it was one of disgust. Like maybe the idea of spending the night in her bedroom was ridiculous. Her stomach pitched downward. “No. Our staff is discreet, and well-trained. She has seen much worse in this palace, trust me.”
His words left plenty of room for speculation. Worse things involving Robel? All at once, her mind kicked into overdrive. What were the secrets that royals kept? Even worse, the secrets of sexy thirty-something royals. She rolled her lips inward, already exhausted by the hamster wheel of anxieties and doubts and questions.
She wasn’t even seeing this guy. It wasn’t even an option. So she needed to become really uninterested in what his personal life looked like. Immediately.
“Awesome. Well, I think it’s time for me to head to the office.” Sondra sent him her best approximation of a breezy smile. “I’ll see you later for our meeting.”
She hurried off, grateful at least for the chance to outpace him. Something about Robel threw her out of orbit, careening into outer space. It was the mixture of the handsome steel of his face and his hard-ass exterior that had just enough cracks in it to let her see the softness beneath. He was distant yet warm, somehow. It was almost infuriating.
And even more infuriating was how much she wanted to be bathed in his hard-won warmth.
The work day passed quickly as she organized the remaining details for the letter-writing event. She picked up Nessa around four so they could get an early start at the orphanage. She was surprised to see Robel approaching the palace car as well.
“May I ride with you?” he asked, the ghost of a smile on his face.
“I can’t say no,” she joked, leaning in the car to settle Nessa in the car seat. “This is your car, after all.”
Robel and the chauffeur exchanged a few words, and then the chauffeur walked away. Robel waited patiently, propped on his crutches, until Sondra was done snapping in Nessa.
“Is he coming back?” Nessa asked, shutting the back door of the car. “We need to go now.”
“I’m driving,” Robel said, jerking his chin toward the car.
Sondra frowned, propping her hands on her hips. “You shouldn’t. You’re injured.”
Robel shook his head. “My driving foot is fine. Just grab my crutches, and I’ll make it work.”
Sondra wasn’t sure what he was getting at with this, but she wasn’t entirely sad to have him alone in the car. “Has your doctor cleared this?”
“Screw the doctor,” Robel said, plopping into the driver’s seat. He handed her the crutches a moment later, then heaved his bad leg into the car. “Now get in the car. Let’s go.”
Sondra smiled to herself as she opened the back door to stick the crutches in. Maybe this was something like a date. It would be so easy to just have the driver take them downtown. But no. Robel wanted the alone time with her.
Or maybe he’s just going stir crazy and wants his independence back.
Sondra huffed as she sat in the passenger seat. “If you get in trouble for this, I want it to be clear that this was your idea.”
“Noted,” Robel said, easing the car into drive.
“Though even if I do get in trouble, I just want you to know that the guided tour of downtown Ragdar is worth it.”
Sondra looked out the window as the car rolled down the long, winding driveway toward the palatial front gates. Lawns rolled away from them, so immaculately manicured that they looked fake, like something out of a video game.
“I suppose you’re right,” she murmured. Nessa babbled in the car seat. “You must be very expensive otherwise. I’m lucky you’re not charging me.”
“Who says I’m not charging you?” he asked, a dimple flashing in his cheek as he looked over at her.
She shouldn’t have glanced over, just in time to catch that heartbreaking smile. Dammit. Now it was impossible to look away, to stop the infatuation, to do anything other than gaze longingly at this man’s perfect profile. She’d have to cancel the entire event. Unable to get out of the car. Crown prince too beautiful.
Sondra stifled the ear-to-ear grin, dialing it back to simply wide. “Just invoice me, then. But do it in a week or so, so I forget it’s coming altogether.”
The rest of the car ride was lighthearted and easy. They chatted as if they’d been friends for years, changing topics easily, none of the stone-faced business talk Robel had led with over the past week. By the time they pulled into the small parking lot of the orphanage, she was sad that the ride was over.
She could have lingered in this sweet bubble so much longer.
But there was work to be done. Sondra helped Robel onto his crutches, then she unhooked Nessa from the car seat. The three of them headed for the main doors of the orphanage, a large, black, gothic-looking entrance that could have served as the set of a horror movie. The doors creaked open as they approached. A shiny face with ruddy cheeks stared back at them—it was headmistress Talah. The stout, bubbly woman welcomed them inside the cathedral-like space. Children’s laughter echoed down the halls, both haunting and relieving.
Talah showed them the room where they’d be doing the letter-writing, pointed out the space for catering, and demonstrated where the band would need to plug in for their short set. Most of the instructions were given in Arabic, which made Sondra grateful Robel had decided to tag along.
The Sheikh’s Christmas Lover: Christmas With The Yared Sheikhs Book Three Page 3