The Sheikh's Christmas Maid (Shadid Sheikhs 1)

She gave him a sad smile and pushed the box away as she stood. “I’ll let you know when lunch is ready.”

Folding his legs, he readjusted as he watched her disappear down the stairs. She really was something else. Reaching over, he started picking up the items that had spilled out of the box. Stockings labeled with his and his brothers’ names. Old toys that he didn’t even remember. He pulled out a gorgeous angel that was meant to top the tree. Staring at the angel, he realized how much the figurine looked like his mother.

She would have liked Poppy.

The thought came out of nowhere, and Samir blinked. He hadn

’t even known the woman for twenty-four hours. What was wrong with him?

“Samir?” Melka poked his head up and frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Looking through Christmas decorations and trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to get Poppy Milenne into bed,” Samir said casually.

Melka’s eyes widened. “Despite the kiss that I witnessed, that woman doesn’t seem to want anything to do with you.”

“No, she doesn’t, does she?” Samir mused. “But that’s okay. She’s got a few layers, and I’m going to break through that cold exterior. She’ll be mine, Melka. By Christmas, I’m going to make that woman mine.”

5

Poppy made a quick lunch and ducked into hiding. Although it didn’t need cleaning, she grabbed her feather duster and swept it over the surfaces of one of the already pristine empty bedrooms. Alternating between munching and cleaning, she refused to let her mind wander. A few minutes later, her phone vibrated.

It was a message from Emine, demanding an update on the situation. Poppy was careful with her wording when she responded that everything seemed fine.

And are you acting professionally?

Professionally? Was allowing the Sheikh to do manual labor professional? How about kissing him or having erotic thoughts about him?

Thoughts that included him standing behind her, skimming his hands over her waist until he could peel her shirt off her and unsnap her bra. He’d flick his thumbs over her bare nipples, and she’d roll her head to the side and moan while he skimmed his lips over the curve of her neck.

Fuck.

I’m doing my job and trying to stay out of the way, she typed back. And from here on out, she would try even harder to stay out of the way.

Working until she really could no longer justify cleaning something that was already clean, she went back downstairs and was relieved to see that Samir and Melka were nowhere in sight. Picking up the empty plates in the kitchen, she loaded the dishwasher and changed out a load in the laundry. Emine had sent her a message reminding her to turn on the faucets to keep the pipes from freezing.

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.