A Sheikh for Christmas (All I want for Christmas is... 1)

“Kindness, huh?” Heath scoffed. “Are you sleeping with her too?”

“What? No.” Daveed backed up as images of him taking Melody hard and fast against the wall of the condo flooded his mind. Where the hell had those come from? He shook them off, only to have them replaced by more images of them entwined in sheets on the bed, her crying out his name as she climaxed beneath him. Uncomfortable heat prickled up from beneath the collar of his sweater and Daveed pulled the material away from his neck, wondering when in the fuck it had gotten so hot in the apartment. “No. It’s not like that at all. I just feel sorry for her, that’s all.”

“Right.” Murphy snorted. “Whatever, dude.”

“Shut up.” Daveed scowled at his friend, then back at Heath. “If you don’t want her there, at least give me some time to get her relocated. Seriously, her parents have cut her off and she’s got nothing but the clothes on her back. She’ll end up in a homeless shelter if I don’t help her.”

“Guess she should’ve thought about that before she took off with that actor.” Heath looked away, a muscle working in his tense cheek above his beard. He exhaled slow and shook his head.

“I’ll go and talk to her right after I leave here and get her moved out, I promise. Just give me a little time.” Daveed had more than proven he was good on his promises. The guys knew that.

At last Heath relented. “Fine. But I want her out by the end of the week. Understand? We need you concentrating on Murph’s sister right now, not getting into my ex’s pants.”

Daveed wanted to contradict that last part, but refrained, knowing when to cut his losses. “Will do.” He started across the apartment for the door. “Let me know when you find out what that code means.”

* * *

Melody was fumbling to get her key into the door of the condo when Daveed returned a few hours later. Her day had turned out to be one big bust as far as finding a job was conce

rned. Either they took one look at Vassar on her resume and automatically said she was overqualified, or they said she didn’t have enough experience in retail or customer service or whatever other menial job she’d applied for. It was enough to give a girl a serious complex.

“Are you employed?” Daveed said, resting one broad shoulder against the wall while she struggled to get the door unlocked. A gentleman would’ve offered to help her, but he was apparently out of manners where she was concerned.

She hid her embarrassed wince as best she could and sighed deeply as she stared at her toes. “No. Not yet. It’s a tough job market out there.”

“Hmm.” His tone suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced, but honestly. From the time she’d left the condo that morning, she’d been pounding the pavement all day, searching for a way to support herself. Six hours later, she was still without a job. Some of her defeat must’ve shown on her face because he surprised her by saying, “C’mon. I’ll buy you a coffee and you can tell me your woes.”

Her feet ached and her toes were frozen from cold and a cup of anything hot right now sounded like heaven. They walked half a block to a small café and found a table for two in a quiet back corner.

The barista was polite and efficient as she took their orders. “The special fresh brew today is Blond Roast. Our cold brew is Nitro with Sweet Cream, and the iced tea is bottled Brambleberry. We also have our Short Peppermint Stick lattes on sale two for five. What can I get you?”

“Two Grande Blond Roasts, please.” Daveed said. “Do you want anything else?”

Melody bit her lip. She’d not really eaten all day, except for a few bites of eggs that morning. In truth, she was starving, but she didn’t have money to pay for anything.

Daveed watched her, gaze narrowed. “If you want something more, get it. My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

“I offered, didn’t I?”

“Okay, then.” She smiled up at the waitress. “I’ll take one of those awesome Christmas Cookie Scones we saw on the way in, please.”

Once the barista left, Melody hazarded a glance at Daveed only to find him still staring at her, his expression unreadable.

“Hungry?”

She scrunched her nose. “I haven’t eaten all day, okay? And no, I’m not employed yet. No one wanted me. No one.” She shook her head and scowled. “Even those charity bell ringers that stand outside the shops turned me down. They all looked at my resume and said I was either overqualified or I didn’t have enough experience. But how the hell am I supposed to get experience if no one will hire me?”

A helper delivered two cheerful red mugs and a small white plate with her scone to their table a few minutes later. As Melody stirred cream and sugar into her coffee, the sounds of a fake Santa bell ringer drifted through the diner from outside, like it was mocking her. “I’m such a loser.”

“You’re not a loser,” Daveed said, sitting forward to pull his buzzing phone from his pocket. “You’re just unique.”

“That’s a special way of saying loser.” She sipped her coffee and stared around at the other patrons in the diner. “You don’t need to sugar coat it for me. I’ve been getting that my whole life and look where it’s gotten me.”

“Getting a free meal in a diner with a dashing, handsome man?” Daveed gave her a sly wink before concentrating on his phone. “I’d say you’re pretty lucky.”

Melody snorted. “Right.”