A Sheikh for Christmas Read online

  “What about the other business then?” Daveed asked. “The financial firm?”

  Heath snorted. “Now that one’s a different story. Seems Brightstar Financial has become more like a black hole. My dad said his connections with the SEC were investigating the firm last year for fraud and a possible Ponzi scheme.”

  Murphy sat forward. “Sounds promising.”

  “Except they were cleared, right?” Daveed frowned. “I thought I heard something about that on the news.”

  “Yep.” Heath gave a curt nod. “Nothing found. Now they’re dabbling in some new clean energy technology that’s supposed to be the next big thing. It’s a relatively new area, so there’s not much information on it yet, but so far things appear to be above board.”

  “Great.” Murphy’s tone said the exact opposite. “So where do we go from here? Aileen’s been missing now for over two weeks. If we don’t find something soon, the trail’s going to be stone cold.”

  “We’ll find her,” Heath said, his gaze and his voice steady. “I swear. We just need to find the right path to follow. Murph, I want you to go talk to your sister’s boss at the newspaper again. Find out more about what she’s been working on, who she’s been talking to, meeting with. Ask around with her co-workers too. Maybe she doesn’t always tell her boss everything she’s doing. In the meantime, I’m going to keep digging with my father’s contacts. All this info they gave me about these firms seems pretty cut and dried, but my gut tells me there’s more beneath the surface we don’t know.”

  “What about me?” Daveed said. Despite his twisted emotions at the moment—or maybe because of them—he wanted to stay busy, keep his head clear and avoid the matters of his heart. Espionage was easy compared to all the emotional turmoil waiting for him back at the condo. “What should I do next?”

  “You mean besides get your wreck of a love life under control?” Heath gave him an impassive look. “Seriously. You need to deal with your woman troubles before they deal with you. I’ve been there, done that. Don’t ever want to go back again. Once you get that shit straightened out, call me. I’ll give you something more to do on Aileen’s case.”

  Well, fuck.

  Heath and Murphy both went their separate ways and Daveed headed back out into the snowy pre-holiday bustle of Manhattan. Carols were blasting out of every store he passed and colorful, glittery decorations sparkled from every interior and storefront, but Daveed couldn’t get into the Christmas spirit. Whenever he looked at a tree, all he could think of was the tiny, Charlie Brown-looking glorified twig Melody had bought for the condo and how excited she’d been to decorate it. Whenever he saw a pink wool coat, he looked up expectantly to see if it was her. Whenever he spotted mistletoe hanging above an entrance, all he could remember was kissing her in the glow of the twinkle lights and making love to her all night long.

  Then Shayma had shown up this morning and ruined everything.

  He sighed and stared through a toy store window at the brightly lit displays of miniature trains and remote-controlled race cars. That’s exactly what he’d wanted the Christmas he’d been eleven. He shook his head. Funny enough, that had been the same year his parents had arranged his marriage to Shayma. He’d seen her a few times since then over the years and actually liked her. She seemed smart and funny and ambitious. If his parents hadn’t been so pushy back then, he might’ve dated her, maybe even married her one day.

  But the fact he’d been forced into the whole thing with her ruined any chance of him ever testing those waters now. He was a man who made his own decisions, controlled his own destiny. And Heath was right, no matter how depressing the whole situation was, it was time for Daveed to deal with the mess in his love life once and for all.

  9

  Flipping through yet another rack of designer dresses, Melody couldn’t seem to concentrate on fashion. Which was sad because the garments were all lovely and shopping had always been her stress reliever. At least until Daveed had come into her life.

  Shayma emerged from a nearby dressing room and handed the gown she’d tried on to the waiting assistant, who carried it to the register to hold until they were ready to leave. Mel watched Shayma as she walked toward her, seeing exactly why Daveed’s parents would push for him to marry her, especially if he was to inherit their country’s throne someday. Shayma was gorgeous—all supermodel long limbs and graceful movements. Her long black hair hung in a silky, straight curtain down her back and her dark doe eyes spoke of both beauty and whip-fast intelligence.

  Mel sighed and stared down at her comfy winter boots. Shayma was basically her opposite. Dark where Mel was light. Tall where Mel was rather short and definitely curvier. Book smart where Mel was… well, where she wasn’t. Mel knew she wasn’t stupid, per se, but academics had never been her strong suit. She preferred more creative pursuits—art, design, writing, dancing. Rigid confines and rules gave her hives. That’s why liberal arts had been such a great degree choice for her—so many options, so many avenues to explore.

  Daveed’s derisive chuckle from that first night at the condo echoed through her head. He was book smart too, like Shayma. He prided himself on being neat and organized and sharp. Her shoulders slumped. Why had he ever hooked up with Mel to begin with if they were so different? What could he have possibly seen in her that he didn’t in Miss Tall, Dark, and Regal?

  “Find anything?” Shayma asked, her smile as sweet as always, which only made Mel feel even worse. She reached past Mel to pull out a deep rose-colored chiffon dress. “You should try this one on. The color would look magnificent with your hair and your eyes.”

  Much as she liked the dress, Mel couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t take Shayma’s money. It would be wrong, especially given what had happened between her and Daveed. She shrugged and tried to play it off as exhaustion. “I’m too tired right now. But you keep shopping.”

  “Nah.” Shayma wrinkled her nose and headed for the cashier, Mel by her side. “I’m getting tired too. Jet lag.” She pulled out a platinum credit card and handed it to the clerk without even waiting for the total. “I think a good night’s sleep is in order. For both of us.”

  “Agreed.” Mel looked through a display of earrings and necklaces on the counter, asking the question that had been bugging her since that morning. “Do you love him?”

  Shayma frowned. “Who? Daveed?”

  Mel nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “No. I barely know him.” She took her card back from the clerk then grabbed her handled shopping bag. “But my parents expect me to marry him. So, here I am.”

  “That seems very old-fashioned to me.” Mel followed her back outside, the brisk breeze welcome on her heated cheeks. The fact Shayma didn’t have feelings for Daveed sent an unexpected thrill through her before she tamped it down. “Why would they want you to be stuck in an unhappy marriage with a stranger you didn’t love? Believe me, I know what that’s like. My parents honestly can’t stand each other. They only stay together for appearance’s sake. It’s all a huge strain on my mom.”

  “Sounds terrible.” Shayma glanced over at Mel as they crossed the street and headed back toward the Plaza Hotel. “My parents aren’t in love either, but at least they’re friendly toward each other. I think with them it’s less about the emotional side of things and more about tradition. Arranged marriages are the norm where I’m from, so they think that’s the way it has to be, especially when it comes to the royal family of Al Dar Nasrani.”

  As they weaved through the thick holiday crowds, an idea occurred to Mel. Risky, yes, but then she was all about taking risks these days. “You should call them.”

  “My parents?” Shayma frowned over at her. “Why?”

  “To tell them you’re not going to marry Daveed.”

  Shayma laughed out loud at that. “Really? And what do I do when they threaten to disown me?”

  Suddenly feeling lighter than she had in days, Mel linked arms with Shayma and grinned. “Then we barg
ain. And believe me, after what’s happened in my life over the last week or so, I’m something of an expert on bargaining.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  They continued on toward the hotel. Chattering and making plans about what Shayma would say and how she’d counter her parents’ threats. When they reached the hotel entrance, the whole phone call was planned out.

  Mel let Shayma go and smiled. “All right. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

  “Will you come upstairs with me? For moral support?”

  “Oh, well.” Mel checked her watch. It was still early afternoon, despite the gray skies above. Besides, it wasn’t like she had a job to get to yet and all she’d do back at the condo was sit and stew about Daveed. “Okay. If you need me, I’m there. Lead the way.”

  * * *

  By the time Daveed heard the scrape of Mel’s key on the lock on the door, he’d worked himself into a fine funk. He sat slumped on the sofa, staring at their woebegone Christmas tree and wondering how in the hell he was going to sort through the mess his normally staid and orderly life had become.

  “Hey,” Melody said as she walked into the condo and shrugged out of her coat, her tone cheerful as a day at Santa’s workshop. “How’d your meeting with the guys go?”

  He didn’t look at her, just stared at one of the crooked glass ornaments on the tree. The meeting would’ve gone a lot better if Heath had actually assigned him some work. Left without a task, he felt rudderless and adrift in foreign waters. His life revolved around a set schedule, around a purpose and a goal to achieve. Right now, the only things he had accomplished were brooding himself into a dark and dangerous mood. Dangerous not because he would hurt anyone or anything, other than himself, but because it seemed to push all of his roiling emotions that much closer to the surface. Instead of answering her question, he grunted in response.

  “That good, huh?” She chuckled as she headed into the kitchen to grab a bottled water. “You want one?”

  Daveed gave a slight shake of his head.

  “Well,” she said, returning to flop down on the other end of the sofa. “I’ve got good news. On two fronts.” When he stayed silent, she continued. “First, I’ve dealt with your Shayma problem.”

  This, finally, got his attention. Slowly, he turned to squint at her through the shadows. He’d purposely left the other lights in the condo off, leaving the room in a dim, golden glow of twinkling lights from the tree. An outward manifestation of his murky state of mind at the moment. Gaze narrowed, he frowned at her. “What?”

  “Shayma. Your arranged marriage. You’re off the hook.” She opened her water bottle and took a gulp. “You’re welcome.”

  Confused and at his wit’s end, he shifted slightly away from the tree to face her. “That’s impossible. There’s no way my parents would allow the marriage contract to be broken.”

  “They would if the bride’s family pulled out first.” Mel gave him a coy little wink over the top of her bottle. “Listen, Shayma and I spent the afternoon together, shopping for her Christmas presents and getting to know each other better. She told me that she doesn’t want this marriage any more than you did. She was only going through with it because she was afraid her parents would disown her. So, I helped her brainstorm an offer they couldn’t refuse.”

  “Which was?”

  “Grandchildren. When her father threatened to cut her off, she countered with the fact that if they forced her into a loveless marriage they’d never see their grandchildren again. Pretty harsh words from their only child, right?”

  A bit of the fog inside Daveed’s head cleared. Harsh didn’t accurately describe the fear Shayma’s family must’ve felt from that statement. It was cruel. It was effective. It was downright brilliant. For the first time since the early morning hours when he’d awoken with a sleeping Mel in his arms, Daveed smiled. “So, it is over? I am no longer engaged to be married?”

  “Nope.” Mel winked. “You’re a free man, my friend.”

  He wanted to shout for joy from the rooftop. He wanted to scream the news from the middle of Central Park. But mostly he wanted to hold Mel in his arms and never let her go. He started to reach for her, but she held up a hand to stop him.

  “I’m not finished. I said I had two pieces of good news.”

  “What’s the second one?”

  “I got a job!” Her wide grin was positively incandescent in the dim light. “After I sat with Shayma while she made the call to her parents about breaking off your engagement, she wanted to do something for me to repay me for all my moral support.” Mel scooted in her seat so her legs were tucked underneath her, her bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “Anyway, she has a friend who manages the MAC store in Saks on Fifth. She pulled a few strings and got me hired. It’s kind of perfect, actually, since MAC is the only makeup I’ve used for years. The job is commission-only, so I’ll have to sell my butt off to make decent money, but Shayma already said she’d be my first customer and buy an enormous amount—several thousand-dollars-worth of products—to take back with her to Al Dar Nasrani since they don’t have a MAC store there yet. I start the day after tomorrow.”

  Daveed stretched his arm along the back of the sofa, still trying to take it all in. “So, I’m a free man and you’re an employed, self-supporting woman now, all in the span of one afternoon. That’s pretty incredible. A miracle in the making.”

  “Yep.” She reached over and took his hand. “Oh, and Shayma said that I could move in and stay with her in her suite at the Plaza until I can find a place of my own. So, you’ll have me out of your hair sooner than you expected to.”

  A bit of fog drifted back over his newfound sunshine. Still, he forced a smile and tried to sound happy. “Wow. That’s very generous of her. She’s a good person for offering and you deserve to have some time to yourself after all you’ve been through.”

  She blinked at him, as if waiting for him to say more, her expression hopeful. When he didn’t, couldn’t, she flashed a small, sad smile then pushed to her feet. “Well, then. Guess I better get packed so I can get back over to Shayma’s before it gets too late.”

  Melody took off down the hallway, leaving Daveed to stare after her, torn and twisted. After spending days trying to get her out of his hair, he found that now he didn’t want her to go. Which was ridiculous. They barely knew each other. And yes, they’d had a night of spectacular sex, but that wasn’t a reason to go bonkers over a woman he hardly knew, right?

  His chest squeezed and his heart ached at the thought of living alone in the condo again, though it had been fine until a few days ago—the day Mel had knocked on his door, dripping wet and scraggly. Perhaps some time apart would do them good, but he couldn’t let her leave without a proper goodbye.

  Without realizing it, he was on his feet and heading toward her guest room. Inside, he found her desperately trying to fit all of her clothes inside her suitcase and failing miserably. Just like he was failing in denying the strength of his emotions toward her. It wasn’t love, not yet, but something strong and sweet and just as potent.

  “Here,” he said, reaching around her to press his hand atop her luggage to help hold it closed so she could seal the latch. He didn’t miss her slight shiver when his arm brushed hers or the tiny catch in her breath at his closeness. So, he was not the only one deeply affected by their searing connection.

  “Habibaty…” he whispered, his lips so close to her ear they tickled the sensitive skin there and ruffled the fine hairs near her temple. He wanted to have her look at him, see how much she affected him, taste her soft, warm lips. To hold her close and hear her cries of ecstasy just one more time before he let her go forever.

  Sighing gently, Mel turned to face him and he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. She reached up and traced his jaw with shaky fingers, her eyes filled with wonder and want. “Daveed, baby. I want you so bad.”

  “And you shall have me. Now. Tonight.”

  10

&
nbsp; Mel wasn’t sure who moved first or how their clothes disappeared, but the next thing she knew, they were both sprawled atop her queen-sized bed in the guest room, naked and desperate for one another’s touch.

  No matter how much of his skin she stroked and tasted and caressed, she wanted more. Needed more. He, too, couldn’t seem to be able to get enough of her. Their lovemaking seemed almost bittersweet this time, as if there was a sense of finality to it.

  The lingering sense of goodbye.

  She realized now that by setting him free from his contract with Shayma, she’d set him free from herself as well. But she would have done it all again, if given the chance. Daveed was a wonderful, kind, generous man with a heart of gold and brains to spare. He’d make some lucky woman a fine husband someday. Mel ignored the sharp stab of sadness that thought jabbed into her chest and held him closer, trailing her lips down the side of his neck as he pulled back to hover over her, his weight resting on his forearms beside her head. She wanted this precious time between them to last all night, but she wanted him too badly to wait any longer. “I need you, inside me. Now.”

  He grinned, rocking his hips against her so the heavy tip of his hard cock brushed against the hot, slick folds between her legs. Mel gasped at the intimate contact, her clit throbbing in time with her heartbeat.

  “I’ve thought of nothing but this all day long, habibaty. I will not be rushed now.”

  There was a fierceness in his warm mocha eyes tonight, a possessiveness that she’d not seen the night before. It both thrilled and terrified her. Thrilled because it sparked a tiny flare of hope inside her that maybe this wasn’t the end for them, that maybe somehow in this crazy world they might end up together when all this was over. Terrified her for the same reasons. He was a prince, true Arabic royalty—even if he didn’t live the lifestyle to which he’d been born. She was nothing but a tabloid-trash heiress who was down on her luck and currently penniless. She didn’t deserve him, no matter how much she cared for him.