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

  Poppy kept busy, and Samir stayed out of her way. Right before it was time to make dinner; she slipped into her bedroom and took a deep breath.

  Nervously, she took out her phone and checked her messages. They were getting close to Christmas, and once again, it was radio silence from her family. It was nothing new, and yet it still hurt. Once they no longer needed her, they no longer wanted her.

  She couldn’t go back. She simply couldn’t.

  Sighing, she put her phone away and headed to the kitchen. The sight that greeted her made her gasp. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Samir, standing over a messy counter, looked over his shoulder and gave her a smug grin. “I don’t think you’re allowed to talk to me like that.”

  “Talk to you? I am about to slap you. Why did you drag all this stuff out?” Poppy stared open mouthed. It looked like he’d taken everything out of the refrigerator and laid it out on the counter.

  “I thought I’d make you dinner.”

  “Make me….” She faltered and shook her head. “What exactly are you making?”

  “Mincemeat pie!” he said with a big smile. “My mother used to make it around Christmas. It’s amazing. You’re going to love it.”

  Biting her lower lip, she tried not to smile. “I’ve had mincemeat pie. It is very good. Have you ever made it before?” One look at the mixing bowl in front of him told her the answer was no.

  For the first time ever, the gorgeous man actually looked embarrassed. “Well, I don’t cook very much. Ever, really. But now seemed like an excellent time to start.”

  “You were going to make me dinner to be nice, but instead you made a huge mess that I would need to clean up?” she asked with her hands planted on her hips.

  Samir whistled low and shook his head. “You really do hate Christmas, don’t you.”

  “I don’t hate Christmas!” Blowing out her breath, she nodded. “Okay, I will teach you how to make mincemeat pie. Next time you want to cook, please ask for help.” Before he could voice his victory, she put her hands up to stop him. “This does not mean that I’m embracing your Christmas spirit. I’m simply trying to keep you from making more work for me.”

  That and she needed something to keep her mind off her family. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she pushed Samir aside and dumped his mixing bowl down the sink.

  He’d already cored the apples. At least a third of the apples were crudely chopped away in his attempt to peel the fruit, and she couldn’t help but smile. “Good job,” she managed. “Why don’t you quarter these while we get the rest of the ingredients together?”

  Grabbing the rest of the fruit ingredients, she measured them out and watched as he expertly twirled the knife. Surprised, she stared at him. He held the knife like it was a weapon and felt completely at ease. He’d obviously been trained to defend himself.

  Or maybe even attack.

  Her mouth dried. Just how dangerous was Samir Shadid?

  Suddenly, she realized that he was butchering the apples. “Whoa!” she said suddenly. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his arm. He froze under her touch, and she felt the zing of electricity between them. Her body responded, and she snatched her hand away. “Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s fine. The fruit is going in the food processor anyway, but for future reference, quartering the apples just means large chunks.”

  “Show me,” he commanded. She felt hypnotized under his glittering stare and nodded. Reaching out, she gently took his hands and manipulated them so his slices were easier and wider. The air grew heavy around them, and her heart slammed in her chest. It had been so long since she’d been this close to a man. The heat radiating from him, threatened to scorch her. When the apples were done, she dropped her arms to her side and stepped back. Clearing her throat, she gave him a faint smile.

  “Just like that.”

  “Just like that,” he repeated softly as he stepped toward her. Afraid that he was going to try to kiss her, she turned away and grabbed her bowl of ingredients.

  “We’ll toss the apples in the food processor along with everything in the bowl. Raisins. Cherries. Figs. Beef suet. Brown sugar,” she announced a little too loudly. A small smile played on his lips, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Now, we just need to add the spices and brandy, and we’ll mix everything together.” Straightening her spine, she tried to face him with courage. Just the sight of him sent liquid heat pooling between her legs, but she wasn’t going to let him know that. “Do you know the spices that we need?”

  “Nutmeg, allspice, clove, and ginger,” he said in a low voice. “And a zest of orange juice. I can read a recipe, Poppy.”

  “Reading a recipe is different than experience, Samir. It takes getting your hands dirty to understand the magic of cooking.”

  Samir stepped closer and rested his hands around her waist. Trapped between him and the counter, she froze. “Poppy, I have no problems with getting my hands a little dirty. And I’m all for learning a little magic. A little sensuality.”

  He let her go without trying to kiss her, and she couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated. Was he trying to drive her crazy?

  “Measure out the spices. I’ll do the orange zest. You know, normally these ingredients are supposed to marinate for a few days before baking. I’m not sure how they’ll taste if we take the short-cut and bake it tonight.”

  “So we won’t take a short-cut.”

  With an orange in one hand and the grate in the other, she blinked and frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “There should be no short-cuts at Christmas. Everything should be done properly. That way we can experience things as they should be experienced.”

  Were they still talking about the mincemeat pie?

  “What will we have for dinner?”

  Samir shrugged. “We can order something in.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Poppy asked incredulously. “There’s a foot of snow out there. You’re going to make some poor guy drive out in this because you don’t want to cook?”

  He opened his mouth to argue before snapping it shut. “I never thought of it like that.”

  “Obviously,” she grumbled. “We’ll make shepherd’s pie. It’s one of my favorites. You can put the ingredients for the crust away.”

  She dumped in the rest of the ingredients and pulsed them in the processor before sealing it in a container and placing it in the fridge. Grabbing everything she needed for dinner, she shooed him away. “I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

  With an amused expression, he leaned against the counter. “Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. I find that I like watching you work.”

  “Chauvinist,” she grumbled. “Maybe I don’t like being watched.”

  “How do you know? I get the feeling you tend to hide away so no one gets a chance to watch you.”

  Rolling her eyes, she slammed the door to the fridge shut. “For that, you’re getting instant potatoes.”

  He smiled but didn’t move. Doing her best to ignore the heat in his gaze, she threw the beef in the pan and started stirring the potatoes. As much as she tried to focus on what she was doing, she was all too aware that Samir never stopped watching her. She knew with his pretty face and royal status, he probably had a warm body in his bed every night. Obviously, she was the only viable choice for him.

  Well, the hell with that. She wasn’t going to wrap her legs around him because she was the only one around. No matter how badly she wanted it.

  Finally, she layered the ingredients in the dish and bent down to place it in the oven. Straightening, she turned to find him standing directly behind her. “You have something on your cheek,” he said softly as he reached out and brushed his thumb over her skin. A shudder went down her spine when he popped his thumb in his mouth and smiled. “Mashed potatoes.”

  Oh, God. She was in so much trouble. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” she said hoarsely. “Excuse me. I’m going to change.” Before he
could do anything else to set her off, she eased away from him and fled from the kitchen.

  She could hear him chuckling the whole way.

  6

  She looked everywhere but at him during dinner. At Samir’s request, Melka took his dinner in the living room, but it didn’t matter. All the electricity he’d felt in the kitchen died as soon as she fled the room. It perplexed him.

  Samir knew that he was a good guy. It wasn’t only his money that had women constantly hanging off his arm. He also knew that Poppy was attracted to him. He could feel her gaze when he wasn’t looking, and although she tried to hide it, her face was an open book. He didn’t have to touch her to know that she wanted him. The desire was more than evident in her altered breathing when she was around him and the way that her lips parted as if she were dying for his kiss.

  Yet, when it came for the follow through, she shied away. It was on the tip of Samir’s tongue to ask why, but he had a feeling that seducing Poppy Milenne would take carefully planned dance moves. One wrong step and she’d flee once again.

  “Why do you keep sighing?” she snapped. “You said you liked dinner.”

  “I did,” Samir said softly. “I enjoyed the dinner very much. I’m sighing because my company is so quiet.”

  Standing, she pushed her chair back and glared at him. “I’m not company, Samir. I’m your servant. I shouldn’t even be eating dinner at the same table as you. Emine could fire me for this.”

  Watching as she cleared the table, he couldn’t help his smile. “I believe that I’m the boss of Emine. You don’t have much to worry about.”

  “The Crowned Sheikh is in control of the staff here, and last time I checked, that wasn’t you.” Immediately, she flushed. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”

  “It wasn’t rude.” Samir reached out and grabbed her wrist as she tried to take his plate. Rubbing his thumb softly on the underside of her wrist, he enjoyed watching her face open up with raw lust. “I will most likely never be Crowned Sheikh, and I’m not at all upset about it.”

  Jerking her hand away, she snatched his plate and stalked into the kitchen. Unwilling to let her get away just yet, he followed her. “My father is an excellent leader. If anything happened to him, Kashif would take over. By the time the crown came to me, one or both of my brothers would have sired an heir. I came to terms with the fact that I’ll never wear the crown a long time ago.”

  “Is that why you’re such a playboy?” she muttered.

  “Excuse me?”

  Poppy pulled open the dishwasher and bent down to load it. “Never mind,” she muttered.

  Samir stared as her small round ass swayed with each movement. What he wouldn’t give to be able to cup her cheeks and see how well they filled his palm. He could caress her, squeeze her, find out what made her moan. All through dinner, he’d done a good job of keeping his body contained, but he was assaulted with erotic images, and he couldn’t keep his hardness from responding. He wanted to press against her, slide her shirt up, and lick the entire length of her spine. Unsnap her bra and fill his hands with her ample breasts, flicking over her nipples until she panted with need. Slide those pants down and test how wet she was.

  “Do you want to decorate the tree now?” she asked suddenly as she straightened.

  No. He really didn’t want to decorate the tree. He wanted to pick her up, plant her on the counter, and bury himself in her.

  “Sheikh!” Melka’s bark broke him from his daydream, and Samir whirled around as the man burst into the kitchen. “There’s someone outside. In the safe room. Now.”

  Without even thinking about it, Samir reached out and grabbed Poppy’s hand. His bodyguard immediately shook his head. “No. Just you.”

  “She’s coming with me,” Samir snarled and dragged her upstairs. His heart pounded as he hit the lever in his bedroom. The bookcase swung open to reveal the steel door behind it. Punching in his passcode, Samir waited for the door to swing open.

  “Wait,” Poppy said in a panicked voice. “I can’t go in there.”

  “Don’t argue with me.” Pushing her inside, he hit the lever on the inside, and the door swung shut. The dim luminescent lights turned on to reveal the sparse surroundings in the small room. It wouldn’t have held more than six people, and that was if they were crammed in. Boxes holding food and water were stacked on one side, and four television monitors covered the other wall. Samir reached over and turned them on. There were cameras hidden all over the safe house. Anxiously, he used the controls to flip from camera to camera until he found the threat that Melka had seen.

  Sure enough, a dark figure pushed through the snow heading toward the house. His gut tightened as he watched.

  Samir had never thought the floor collapsing was anything other than an accident. It didn’t occur to him that he and his brothers were in real danger or that someone would follow him to the safe house. As far as he knew, the location of each safe house was practically a State secret. Not only would an assailant have to uncover the location, but he would also have to brave the increasing levels of snow outside to get to him.

  Had he put Poppy in danger?

  Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes widened at what he saw. She sat on the floor, her knees to her chest, and slowly rocked back and forth.

  “Habibti,” he murmured as he knelt down. “It’s okay. You’re completely safe in here. No one can get to you.”

  She kept her eyes squeezed tight and shook her head. “It’s so small,” she gasped. “I can’t breathe.”

  Small? Perplexed, he reached out and stroked her arm. “What’s small? Look at me, Poppy.”

  Instead of complying, she continued to rock back and forth. It took a minute for Samir to understand.

  Poppy was claustrophobic. Shit.

  “What do I do?” he asked softly. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Let me out. I need to get out.”

  “I can’t,” he said desperately as he glanced at the television screen. The shadowy figure of a man continued his slow trek to the house, and Melka was nowhere in sight. “I can’t, Poppy. I have to keep you safe.”

  Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him. “Who is out there? Is someone trying to kill you? Tell me. Distract me.”

  Rearranging himself so he sat on the floor with his back against the wall, he gently pulled her forward so that she straddled him. Her gaze was so focused on him that she didn’t fight him. Samir wasn’t even sure that she knew that she’d moved. “It was a letter,” he murmured as he stroked her back, trying to comfort her. Her arms were still wrapped around her body, but she stopped rocking.

  The stimulation in his lap eased his discomfort. If she scooted up any farther in his lap, he wouldn’t be able to hide his erection. “Melka said he found it stuck to the car. I was on my way to spend a few weeks in Italy, and we were on the way to the airport. We stopped at a store because I’d forgotten something, and when we came back, this letter was shoved under the windshield.”

  Her eyes widened as he spoke, and he tried not to laugh. It didn’t seem all that threatening to him, but she was enthralled. At least she was distracted. “A death threat?”

  “Apparently. According to Melka, I’d paid too much attention to a married lady in the past, and the husband was not happy with me.”

  Poppy snorted. “Paid too much attention? You mean you slept with a married woman?”

  Samir continued to stroke her back. Vaguely, he wondered what she would do if he slipped his hands under her shirt and ran his fingertips over her skin. He felt almost shameless speaking of such transgressions while contemplating making another. “If I did, it wasn’t on purpose. Despite what my reputation says about me, I don’t go out of my way to make trouble. The most-likely scenario is that the woman lied to me. I’m sure it’s not the first time that has happened. Women lie.”

  “Excuse you,” she snapped. “Not all women lie.”

  Laughing, Samir gently pulled her forward. Her eyes widened, but she didn’
t stop him. “Melka thought I should lay low for a little while, and here I am. Whoever wrote the note may think ill of me, but I seriously doubt they’ll try to kill me. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “Does this kind of thing happen to you often?”

  Samir leaned in closer and smiled when she didn’t pull away. “The women or the death threats?

  “The death threats,” she laughed. “I already know that you’re very experienced with women!”

  “I’m told I’m very good at pleasing women,” he said huskily. “But no, there are virtually no threats against me or my family. It’s a rather peaceful country. That’s not to say that I haven’t been in a few fights here and there, but they were mostly brawls. As kids, my brothers and I often fought.”

  “I can’t imagine you as a kid,” Poppy snorted. They fell into silence, and Samir watched as her eyes darted around the walls again. He watched her features tighten and glanced back up to the television again. There was no sign of Melka or the trespasser. Samir wanted to get up and switch the monitors so he could see what was going on, but he didn’t want to leave Poppy.

  “Easy,” he murmured soothingly as he moved his hands from her back to her sides. His thumbs brushed up against the outsides of her breasts, and her chest swelled as she inhaled sharply. He now sported a full-blown erection.

  Cursing himself, he knew he needed to untangle them. It wouldn’t be fair for him to use her fear to seduce her. “I’m going to check the cameras and see what’s going on,” he said hoarsely.

  Poppy immediately placed her hands on his chest and leaned forward. “Samir, don’t leave me.”

  The lights flickered above them, and he held his breath. God help him, he wanted to do the right thing but the invitation was written all over her face. She gently rocked against his erection, and he was lost.