“I heard from Jarik’s guard. He said that Jarik flew out on his own.”
Samir shrugged. “That shouldn’t surprise you. According to Kashif, Jarik has been in a bitter mood all month. I’m sure he’s decided to visit Kivi. You know how much history those two have.”
“Kivi took advantage of Jarik,” Melka growled. “He should have nothing more to do with that man. He’s in jail, where he should be. He certainly should not be abandoning his bodyguard.”
“Why not? Kashif went to Alaska without his,” Samir said with a shrug. “The death threat was only against me, so I don’t think we have much to worry about.” What he failed to say was that his two older brothers spent quite a bit of time away from their security detail. The only reason that Samir was forced to stay with Melka was because his father thought that Samir was too reckless with his life.
So he drank some and enjoyed a few women here and there? Jarik was best friends with a known con artist, and Kashif was a thrill seeker. Why his father was more lenient with their security, Samir would never know.
“You’re too cavalier, Samir. You live your life thinking that nothing can touch you.”
“Not true,” Samir said with a shrug. “I live my life knowing that, as third in line to the crown, I have little to worry about. Kashif will have children before that crown ever comes to me. Anything else that you need to tell me?”
Melka sighed. “I wish that you’d be more careful, Samir. Your brothers care about you and so do...”
The last thing Samir wanted to talk about was his relationship with his brothers. Scowling, he pushed past Melka to search for Poppy, but she was nowhere to be found. A steaming cup of tea was on the counter, but she wasn’t in the kitchen. Just when he started his hunt for her, a loud crash sounded upstairs. “Poppy!” he bellowed and took the stairs two at a time as he raced up to her.
The trap up to the attic was pulled down, and Samir heard a low moan. A fist squeezed around his heart as he pulled himself up the stairs. “Poppy!”
“Ow,” she muttered. She was sprawled on the floor, under a box. Decorations spilled out around her. “Why is there so much crap up here?”
“Oh, habibti,” he said sympathetically as he pulled the box off her and kneeled down by her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I tripped over something.” Frowning, she reached under her and pulled out a giant Santa doll. “Really? Aren’t you boys a little old for Santa?”
Samir gently took the doll and stared at him. “This was my mother’s favorite decoration,” he said softly. “She used to put it in the foyer. It had a basket that attached to his hands where she would put candy. My brothers and I used to make a game out of stealing the candy when no one was looking. She would get so mad, but she kept filling it back up.”
“What’s it doing here?” Poppy asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen it since she died. I always imagined my father threw all the decorations in a huge bonfire. I guess he packed up all the old decorations and had them stored here. We haven’t celebrated Christmas since,” Samir said hoarsely.
“How long ago was that?”
“Twenty years ago.”
“How was it, you celebrated Christmas? I mean, you’re…you know.”
“Muslim?” At her nod, he smiled. “My grandfather was appointed to the International Court of Justice in the Netherlands, shortly after it was created. My mother was born there. She adored everything about Christmas. I think if my father hadn’t put his foot down, she would have had decorations up year-round. But it was because of her. There was something about the holiday. Even seeing the decorations and lights reminded me that no matter what is going on, there is something good out there.”
He took a deep breath and stared at the boxes. Memories that hadn’t surfaced in years danced in his head. Decorating for Christmas used to be one of his favorite past times. Jarik and Kashif always pretended that they were too old for such nonsense, but he’d string popcorn with his mother and sing Christmas carols.
Of course, when it came to putting the star on top of the tree, Jarik and Kashif would show up and fight over who got to do it. Normally, as the oldest, Kashif won.
Poppy’s fingers softly stroked his skin, and she gave him a tentative smile. “We can leave it up here or we could also bring them downstairs if you want.”
“Really? That’s a ton of boxes to bring down.”
“Well, we’ll do the tree tonight, and we’ll tackle these boxes tomorrow. Everything will be up and ready by Christmas.”
Samir couldn’t help but smile. “You hate Christmas, and here you are, offering to do even more decorating.”
“I told you, I don’t hate Christmas. It’s just not for me. But technically, this is your home, and we should decorate it the way you want.”
“I may not even be here by Christmas.”
“All the more reason to put it up. You can enjoy it while you still can. I’ll let you look through everything while I go down and fix us some lunch.”
That was Samir’s cue for his stomach to rumble, but he ignored it. “Tell me why you don’t like Christmas.”