The Sheikh's Christmas Maid (Shadid Sheikhs Series Book 1)

by Leslie North

  “I don’t need you to comfort me,” she whispered. Feeling brazen, she lowered her black panties and unclipped the matching bra. “I need you not to leave me alone.”

  Slowly, she pulled the curtain open and stepped in the water. It ran over her, making her skin tingle lightly. When she didn’t hear the bathroom door open and close, she relaxed and closed her eyes. Her thoughts flew to the shed, trapped, alone, and she started to shake.

  The curtain opened, and she felt the air shift as Samir stepped in the shower behind her. “I’m here.” His voice cracked. “I’m here, but I can’t touch you. I wish I could, Poppy, but I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

  She knew what he was telling her, but she desperately wanted to lean back against him. “I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” she murmured. After a heartbeat of nothing but the sound of falling water, she felt his hands at her waist. His grip was light, and she leaned back against him. His erection was obvious, but he didn’t do anything except wrap his arms around her and hold on.

  “I have two older brothers,” she said, her eyes still closed. “We used to play hide-and-seek, but older brothers can be cruel sometimes. They would start the game so I would hide and leave them alone. I’d stay in a single spot for hours, thinking that I was great at the game. One afternoon, I hid in the small crawl space between the walls of the house. My father didn’t know that I was there, and he moved something in front of the door. They left to go do something, and I couldn’t get out. I was trapped in there for five hours.”

  “God, Poppy,” Samir breathed and kissed her neck. “How old were you?”

  “Six.”

  “Your father knowingly left you alone in the house when you were six?”

  His body did more to warm her than the water did. She let her head loll to the side as his breath fell on her naked skin. “I was an independent child. They left me alone a lot.”

  “Well, that explains it,” he muttered.

  “Explain what?”

  Chuckling softly, he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “Nothing, habibti. How do you feel?”

  “Better. My side hurts. I think I hit it when I fell.”

  “Which side?”

  Taking his left hand, she slid it up slightly, and he gently caressed her skin. When he pushed her forward and leaned down to press his lips against the spot, she inhaled sharply.

  “Sorry,” he said immediately as he straightened. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “It felt good,” she admitted softly.

  “Oh, my habibti.” His arms circled her again, and he pulled her up against his body. “You are playing with fire.”

  Turning her body, she stepped back in the stream of the water and faced him. “You wouldn’t do anything that I didn’t want you to do. As long as I tell you, no, you’ll control yourself.”

  His eyes raked over her, and he cocked an eyebrow. “You sound so sure of yourself.”

  “I am. You’re a rake and a playboy, and I have no doubt that you leave a string of broken hearts behind you. And I know that you’re a scoundrel who will do your best to seduce me, but until I say yes, I’m okay.”

  “All true.”

  “What if I do say, yes. Right here. Right now.” She had no idea where her courage sprang from, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to hold him off anymore. His glorious naked body was wet and hers for the taking and she wasn’t strong enough to keep saying no.

  “No.”

  The water seemed to grow colder, and she blinked. “What?”

  “God knows that I want you. From the moment that I saw you, my thoughts have been consumed with you. But you’ve just been through something traumatic, and I’m not sure that you’re thinking clearly. I can’t take you like this.”

  Poppy raised her eyebrows and stared pointedly at his impressive erection. “I’m not certain that’s true.”

  Shaking his head, he grasped her and turned her around. “I won’t take you like this,” he whispered as he kissed her neck. “When you’re under me again, it’s not going to be because you’re scared and don’t want to be alone. When I slide inside you, it’ll be because you’re begging me to fuck you, and I’m the only thing on your mind.”

  Poppy swallowed hard. “You sure know how to woo a girl. But I’m not saying yes because I don’t want to be alone. I’m saying yes because I’m wet and aching for your touch.”

  “Really?” she heard the strain in his voice, and his hands finally moved. One hand splayed across her abdomen, and another one reached down to her heat. As a finger eased into her, Poppy couldn’t help but whimper. It felt so good to have someone holding her, touching her, caressing her.

  “Habibti,” Samir breathed in her ear. “You are wet. And so very tight.”

  Stroking her at a slow and even pace, he used his other hand to caress her right breast lightly. Despite the heat of the shower, her nipple tightened and puckered under his ministrations. Pleasure coursed through her body, and she pushed her ass against him, feeling his erection on her lower back.

  “More?” he asked seductively in her ear. Nodding, she rolled her head to the side. As he pressed his lips to her slick skin, he eased another finger inside her.

  God. If she felt like this just from his fingers, what would she do when it was his cock thrusting inside her?

  “Harder?”

  The pressure was mounting, and her body screamed for release. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she turned to putty under his capable hands. Terrified to voice her need, she could only once again nod.

  “Your wish is my pleasure.” His fingers began to move deeper and harder. When her knees began to buckle under her, she hooked one arm around his neck, and he stopped playing with her nipple and anchored her with his arm. The heat was almost unbearable, and she felt her chest tighten. She was so close.

  “Samir,” she panted through gritted teeth. “Samir, please. Stop playing with me. I need…”

  “What? Tell me what you need, Poppy. Let me give it to you.”

  His fingers moved slowly, and she whimpered. “No. Please. I need to come. Samir.”

  “Yes.” His teeth sank in her shoulder, and his fingertip pressed against her tight bud of pleasure as he picked up the pace with his fingers. Crying out, she felt the intense orgasm wash through her, and she would have slid to the bottom of the tub had he not been holding her.

  “Easy,” he murmured as he maneuvered around her. “I’ve got you.” Pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead, he eased her down until she was sitting on the edge. Turning off the water, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his lower half. Pulling her back up again, he rubbed a towel over her body. She still felt boneless, so she braced herself against the wall while he dried her. Feeling the afterglow of her orgasm, she sighed as he wrapped the towel around her and picked her up.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered as she buried her face in the crook of his neck a second time. She rather liked being in his arms. Maybe she’d tell him that he had to carry her around everywhere.

  When he did release her, she pooled into his mattress. It smelled like him. “I’m going to get your sheets wet,” she protested lightly, but he ignored her and pulled the coverlet over her.

  “Rest, Poppy,” he said as he kissed her forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Drowsy, her eyes drifted shut. “Samir?”

  “Yes, habibti?”

  “I don’t remember it being windy.”

  9

  Once he was sure that Poppy was sleeping comfortably, he donned his jacket and headed back out in the snow. He was surprised when Melka followed him.

  “Samir, it’s not okay for you to be out here alone,” he growled. “What if there is a sharpshooter?”

  “Calm down. A threatening note rarely turns into a sharpshooter, Melka. I’m concerned about Poppy.” He stopped short at the shed and frowned. The steady snow had already obscured any footprints, but Poppy was right about one th
ing. There was no wind.

  Testing the door, he shut it, opened it, and shut it again. With all the snow that had accumulated, he had to put some muscle into it. There was no way that the wind had done it.

  “Someone shut this door with Poppy inside,” he swore angrily. “Who the hell would do that?”

  Melka immediately put his hand on his gun holster and looked around uneasily. “Samir, I’ll take a look around. Get inside. Now.”

  Samir wanted to protest, but the look in Melka’s eyes was something he didn’t want to argue with. Nodding, he strode back to the house. From the window, he watched Melka scan the surrounding trees before gently easing to the corner of the building and peering around the side. He waited anxiously as Melka disappeared. He wasn’t only worried about his own and Poppy’s safety. Melka was more than a bodyguard.

  He was also a friend.

  When Samir went to college, Melka was right by his side. Only a few years older than him, at first, it was like having Jarik at his side. Melka was far too serious to be any fun, something that caused considerable frustration for Samir who completely immersed himself in Western culture. But through the years, he and Melka grew close. His bodyguard did his best to keep him out of trouble, which some weeks, seemed to be a daily occurrence, and Samir liked to think that Melka learned to have some fun every now and then. At least, he hoped.

  When Melka appeared again with his gun holstered, Samir let out the breath he was holding. His guard was on the phone and gave Samir a thumbs up sign.

  “There are no signs to indicate that someone has been out there, so I called Taj. He said that he forgot that he left the door open and came out to close it. He had no idea that Poppy was inside. He feels really bad about it.”

  “Poor, Poppy,” Samir murmured. “Well, at least I can put her fears at ease. Let’s make some lunch, and we’ll go out and finish cleaning up the mess. I have a feeling that Poppy will try to put everything away herself.”

  Melka stripped off his jacket and brushed the snow out of his hair. “You care for her,” he stated in a flat voice.

  Care for her? That was a unique concept. Shrugging off the question, Samir headed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “What do you want for lunch?” he called out behind him.

  Melka snorted and shook his head. “You’ve never made a meal for yourself in your life. Go sit down. I’ll whip something up.”

  Samir shot him a smug smile. “I was hoping that you would say that.”

  Samir settled on the couch, grabbed Melka’s phone from the table, and called Jarik.

  “Melka? What the hell has Samir done now?” Jarik growled.

  “Nice to hear from you too, brother,” Samir said dryly. “What’s this I hear about you visiting Kivi?”

  “Samir,” Jarik sighed. “I’ve told you before that Kivi is none of your business.”

  “Relax. I’m not here to pick a fight with you. Where are you exactly?”

  His brother hesitated. “Actually, I’m on my way to Syria.”

  “Syria? Samir frowned. “That’s a dangerous place for you to be.”

  “Minor detour,” Jarik said smoothly. “But I can’t talk long. What do you need? Bail money?”

  Samir rolled his eyes. “No. I was actually wondering if you spoke to father recently.”

  “Nothing other than a few business memos last week. Why? Is something wrong?”

  “I’m not sure. I spoke to him yesterday, and he didn’t seem well.”

  “Like, he was ill?”

  “No. Like he was upset about something. He mentioned that he wanted to see us all together before the end of the year.”

  “All of us? Together?”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Samir ran his hands lazily over the fabric of the couch and waited for his brother to respond. It was clear that he was just as shocked.

  “I’ll talk to him and see what’s going on,” Jarik promised. “Where are you?”

  “Nowhere in particular,” Samir lied. The last thing he wanted right now was another lecture. He hesitated a moment. “Stay safe, brother.”

  Without bothering to see how Jarik responded, Samir quickly hung up the phone. It was strange that Jarik didn’t know what was going on with his father, but Samir wasn’t worried. Their father probably told Kashif.

  Samir had no wish to speak to his older brother. No doubt, Kashif knew where Samir was and why he was there, and if he hadn’t wanted a lecture from Jarik, he certainly didn’t want a lecture from his oldest brother.

  Maybe he’d call him tomorrow. Right now, he had more important things on his mind.

  Poppy stirred. She was some place warm and dark, but it wasn’t her bedroom. The sheets were far too nice and slid over her body like silk. When she stretched out her leg, it didn’t hang off like it would have with her small mattress.

  And it smelled like Samir.

  Feeling somewhat drunk, she smiled and burrowed further under the covers. She shouldn’t know what Samir smelled like, but she couldn’t help it. Every time he was near, she breathed him in and wondered what it would be like to be in his arms.

  Only she did know what it felt like to be in his arms. Her memories returned in flashes, and her eyes popped wide open.

  She’d begged Samir to fuck her.

  Embarrassed, she moaned and peeked cautiously out from her spot of safety. At least she was alone.

  The towel that Samir had wrapped around her was balled up under the sheets. Pulling it out, she covered herself and slipped out of bed. The sun had set, but the clock told her that she’d only been out for a couple of hours.

  Shuffling to the bathroom, she grabbed her clothes, but they were wet and cold from the snow. Annoyed, she glared at them as if it was their fault. She couldn’t go downstairs dressed in a towel, but there was no way in hell she was putting those clothes on again.

  Desperate, she opened the closet and stared at the few shirts hanging in the closet. They were big enough to cover all the important bits. Dropping the towel, she pulled a red shirt on and buttoned it up. It hung to her knees.

  Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do with her hair, which was a mess of unruly curls. Praying that she didn’t see anyone, she took a deep breath and tiptoed quietly from the room.

  Just as she reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs, the front door flew open and Melka and Samir rushed in. They both stopped short and stared at her.

  “Uh,” she muttered and stared. “I was just…I meant it’s not….I didn’t have any….I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know why you’re sorry,” Samir whistled. “I think I just died and went to heaven. Melka, call my father. I want this to be the new uniform.”

  Poppy moaned in despair as she felt a flush creep to her cheeks. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared at them. “What were you guys doing out there?”

  The men unzipped their jackets. “We were finishing up organizing the shed. Taj was the one who closed the door, by the way. He remembered that he left it open. He didn’t know that you were in there.”

  She immediately felt better. “Poor, Taj. He probably feels awful.”

  “He does,” Melka said shortly. “I didn’t mention you. I didn’t want him to feel bad.”

  Poppy smiled at him. “Thank you. That was kind.”

  He growled something under his breath and stomped away. Samir chuckled. “Melka is a good guy but he doesn’t like people to know that. How are you feeling?”

  As he took a step toward her, she lowered her eyes. “Like maybe I should be fully dressed before we talk about that,” she whispered.

  “Hey.” He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face. “You don’t have to feel ashamed for what you wanted, Poppy, and you never have to feel ashamed around me.” Leaning down, he kissed her tenderly on the lips. “You have no idea how sexy you look in my shirt.”

  Biting her lower lip, she inched away from him. “All the more reason for me to change. Let me put some clothes on. The s
heets on your bed are wet, so I need to change them and start dinner.”

  “My sheets are wet huh?” he asked with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows.

  “Not like that,” she hissed and looked furtively around.

  “Poppy, you don’t have to change the sheets on my bed. I’m sure I can manage it. And I’ll make some dinner as well.”

  Her eyes widened in terror. “No. I remember the last time that you tried to make dinner, and I have a feeling that if I let you make your own bed, you’ll sleep without sheets tonight.”

  “I could sleep in your bed tonight.”

  “You wouldn’t fit,” she said automatically. Before he could argue with her anymore, she scurried to her room and firmly shut the door behind her. First, she rewet her hair and pulled a brush through it. Although Samir had seen her at her worst, for some reason, she felt the need to look nice for him tonight.

  Regretfully, she pulled off his shirt and pulled on a black sweater and a pair of jeans. It had felt nice to wear something that belonged to him. Putting her scent on his things like she was marking her territory.

  “Stupid,” she muttered as she stared at herself in the mirror. The last time she’d been this crazy about a guy, she was twelve, and she ended up punching him instead of admitting how she felt. She’d nearly been suspended from school for it.

  What would Samir do if she punched him? Amused by the thought, she ran some powder over her skin and some shimmer over her lips. Running her fingers through her hair, she let it spill over her shoulders.

  What was happening to her?

  Samir probably escorted the most beautiful women on his arm. Women of status and elegance. Poppy never even felt pretty. Growing up with all men, she was always rough and dirty. Guys made passes at her in college, and sometimes she slaked her desire, but she’d never bothered trying to pretty herself up. She was in serious danger of losing herself to a man who would never think of her again after he left.

  Still, she wouldn’t back down. She’d already stepped over the line, and she knew she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t finish what she started. Her job wasn’t in danger. She knew that. Melka could see that she wasn’t a threat. Everything would be fine.