A SEAL for Christmas (All I want for Christmas is... 2)

“Save them for later then.” She glanced at him over her shoulder as she bent to put them in Aileen’s fridge. And damn if that fine ass of hers didn’t all but beg him to cup it in his hands and pull her tight against him. Shayma turned fast and caught him staring, then raised a brow like she was challenging him to do something. “So, I talked to my father last night,” she continued, shrugging out of her coat then making herself at home like she planned to stay a

while. “He’s going to call EnKor today and set up a meeting for this afternoon. Heath said you and I are to go in and pretend to be representatives of Al Dar Nasrani’s largest energy producer. I spent enough years listening to my father’s phone calls with his business colleagues that I think I can bluff my way through a conversation with them and—”

“Wait a minute.” He crossed his arms. “If you’re the pretend boss, then what am I?”

“My security, of course.” She smiled up at him. “It’s quite normal in my country for corporate dignitaries to travel with their own security entourage. As you well know, serving in the region for as long as you did. Why? Do you have a problem with working for a woman?”

“No. Not at all. Some of the best bosses I’ve ever had have been women. It’s just—” He sighed and turned away.

“Then you have a problem with me, you mean.” The disappointment in her tone nearly had him rushing to her side to apologize. Instead, he dug in his heels and remained where he was. Getting too close to her now could only spell trouble with a capital T. “Look, I apologized already for running into you the way I did yesterday and I’m so sorry for messing up the plans you had to question that man, but I was truly concerned for his safety at that point. And I didn’t want to see you get arrested for hurting him. You’re having a hard-enough time finding your sister. Being in jail would only make things that much more difficult.”

Damn. When she put it like that, the whole mess almost seemed logical. Almost.

“Why won’t you accept my help?” she asked quietly when he kept silent. “The truth.”

A strange intimacy settled over the place as he stood in his sister’s quiet apartment. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to anyone about his past. There were some things best kept locked away. They were too painful. Yet, for some reason he didn’t want to think about too much, Shayma made him want to open up to her and tell her all his secrets. He slumped down into the arm chair across from where she sat on the sofa and rested his forearms atop his spread knees. Murphy stared at the floor as he spoke, fearing direct eye contact with her might break the spell. “My sister and I grew up in a household where asking for help was discouraged. You learned to depend on no one but yourself from early on. And you think I’m bad? Aileen’s five years younger than me and twice as stubborn. Little thing too, yet she thinks she can take on the whole world. I remember the day she called to tell me she’d scored the job here in New York. Nearly broke my eardrums screaming her excitement into the phone.” His grin fell and his eyes burned. He squeezed them shut. He wouldn’t cry. He never cried. Hadn’t shed a tear since he’d been six years old and his mother had walked out on their family forever. Hell if he’d start now, no matter how badly he missed Aileen.

“She’s been gone three weeks,” he said, his voice strained. “If we don’t find her soon, we never will. We’re already well past the crucial first forty-eight hours.”

Shayma watched him for a long moment before nodding. “A friend of mine in college disappeared once. She was my best friend. I was able to help the police find her and bring her back safely. I’d like to do the same for you, if you’ll let me. I wasn’t an expert, but I have a knack for getting people to open up to me, tell me things.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to help me?” Murphy looked up at her at last, wanting so much to believe, yet his past was making that impossible. “What’s in it for you?”

Shayma gave him a sad little smile. “It’s in my nature, I guess. When I was in college, I wanted to use my psychology degree to go into counseling or charity work, maybe help find missing girls and women around the world, something like that. Of course, that was out of the question as far as my father was concerned. I was expected to marry Daveed, start a family, raise our children. Nothing more. Since things have changed in that department, I feel like maybe this is my second chance.”

Murphy needed all the second chances he could get right now. “You’ll have to follow my orders. Even if you’re playing the boss in this meeting of ours. Whatever I say goes. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Her cautious enthusiasm was contagious and soon he found his grin returning. “Okay then. We’ll do this together.”

* * *

Later that night, Shayma finally set aside the stack of papers she’d been going through from Aileen’s desk and stretched her sore muscles. A quick glance at the clock on the wall showed it was nearly midnight now. They’d been working all day in the apartment—her meticulously going through Aileen’s things while Murphy fielded calls from the guys and searched Aileen’s laptop and USB drives—and they had nothing new to show for their efforts. It was enough to make a girl scream.

Except Shayma wasn’t an average girl and she didn’t give up without a fight.

She circled her ankles to get some circulation flowing to her numb toes and stared at the last slice of delivery pizza in the box on the coffee table. There were napkins and empty soda cans and used paper plates strewn everywhere and her inner neat freak protested loudly.

Tentatively, she stood then winced as pins and needles surged up her legs. She’d been sitting for far too long. As she gathered up their trash and disposed of it in the bin in the galley-style kitchen, she hazarded a look over at Murphy at the desk in the corner. The greenish light from the computer screen highlighted the dark circles under his eyes and the faint lines of worry and tension in his handsome face. Her heart ached for him and what he must be going through. If any of her family members ever went missing like that, Shayma would’ve been devastated. She didn’t have any siblings, but she imagined if her mother or father vanished without a trace it would be horrifying.

She tossed away the last of their trash, then washed and dried her hands before shoving the pizza box in the fridge and joining Murphy at the desk. She kept her voice low, so as not to startle him. “Perhaps it’s time to take a break. It’s nearly midnight.”

“I’ll take a break once I’ve found my sister.” Murphy didn’t look away from the computer screen, his tone flat and tired. “You find anything?”

“No. Nothing you didn’t already know.” She sighed. “I’ve finished going over all the paperwork. What would you like me to work on next?”

Murphy frowned, then looked up at her, his expression blank, as if he was just now realizing she was there. “I’m sorry. Say that again?”

They were both mentally exhausted, that much was obvious. Only caffeine and conviction were keeping them going at this point. But much as she wanted to help Murphy, the thought of sorting through another stack of files and notes now nearly made her weep. It was time to stop for the night, at least for her. “I, uh, I should go.”

Frowning, he minimized the open window on his sister’s laptop and squinted at the clock in the upper left-hand corner. “Shit. I didn’t realize it was so late. You should’ve said something.”

Shayma opened her mouth to remind him that she had mentioned it, just now, but refrained. He looked so lost and lonely and adorable sitting there all rumpled. The hint of dark stubble on his chiseled jaw had now become a thin scruff and she had the crazy urge to trace her fingers over it to see if it felt rough or soft against her skin. She clenched her fists and stepped back from him. Yes, Murphy was gorgeous and yes, she was more than a little attracted to him, but he was off-limits. The best friend of her ex-fiancé, the worst possible choice she could make for a rebound booty call or for anything else, for that matter.