The Sheikh's Christmas Maid (Shadid Sheikhs 1)

He lifted her easily in his arms, and Poppy buried her face in his neck as he climbed over the equipment and carried her out. Although she knew her face must have been freezing, he didn’t even shudder as she did her best to steal his warmth.

Before she knew it, they were in the house. He didn’t release her as he climbed the stairs. She tried to push away from him, but his grip only tightened.

“Samir,” she protested weakly. “I should take a shower.” As if proving her point, her teeth chattered.

“Where do you think I’m going, habibti?”

His shower? He was taking her to his shower? She knew it wasn’t a good idea, but she felt so good in his arms that she didn’t fight him anymore. It wasn’t until she was in his bathroom that he finally put her down.

Leaning over, he turned the water on before he straightened and unzipped her coat. “It’s just going to be lukewarm water for now,” he said almost apologetically. “We need to warm your body up slowly.”

Her arms hung limp by her side as he pushed the jacket off her body. Next, he tugged off her gloves and unwrapped the scarf from her neck. She saw the tick in his jaw as he pulled at the bottom of her sweatshirt.

“Someone shut the door,” she whispered. “I didn’t do it.”

“No one else was out there, Poppy. It was probably the wind. You aren’t going back out there again without me. That’s an order.”

An order? The sweatshirt pulled over her head, taking her tank-top underneath with it. Her body started to warm on its own as he reached for her jeans. His eyes searched hers, as though asking for permission, and she didn’t stop him.

“It’s a good thing that the shed was insulated,” he said as he averted his gaze. “Otherwise you’d be a Popsicle.” Even though he cracked a smile, his voice was humorless.

When she stood only in her underwear, he turned and tested the water. “Okay, I think it’s warm enough now. When your body starts to warm up, you can make it gradually hotter.”

“Wait,” Poppy said suddenly. “Don’t leave me.”

He froze. “You had a scare, Poppy. I know that you need someone to comfort you, but I’m not that man. I don’t comfort women.”

“I don’t need you to comfort me,” she whispered. Feeling brazen, she lowered her black panties and unclipped the matching bra. “I need you not to leave me alone.”

Slowly, she pulled the curtain open and stepped in the water. It ran over her, making her skin tingle lightly. When she didn’t hear the bathroom door open and close, she relaxed and closed her eyes. Her thoughts flew to the shed, trapped, alone, and she started to shake.

The curtain opened, and she felt the air shift as Samir stepped in the shower behind her. “I’m here.” His voice cracked. “I’m here, but I can’t touch you. I wish I could, Poppy, but I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

She knew what he was telling her, but she desperately wanted to lean back against him. “I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” she murmured. After a heartbeat of nothing but the sound of falling water, she felt his hands at her waist. His grip was light, and she leaned back against him. His erection was obvious, but he didn’t do anything except wrap his arms around her and hold on.

“I have two older brothers,” she said, her eyes still closed. “We used to play hide-and-seek, but older brothers can be cruel sometimes. They would start the game so I would hide and leave them alone. I’d stay in a single spot for hours, thinking that I was great at the game. One afternoon, I hid in the small crawl space between the walls of the house. My father didn’t know that I was there, and he moved something in front of the door. They left to go do something, and I couldn’t get out. I was trapped in there for five hours.”

“God, Poppy,” Samir breathed and kissed her neck. “How old were you?”

“Six.”

“Your father knowingly left you alone in the house when you were six?”

His body did more to warm her than the water did. She let her head loll to the side as his breath fell on her naked skin. “I was an independent child. They left me alone a lot.”

“Well, that explains it,” he muttered.

“Explain what?”

Chuckling softly, he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “Nothing, habibti. How do you feel?”

“Better. My side hurts. I think I hit it when I fell.”

“Which side?”

Taking his left hand, she slid it up slightly, and he gently caressed her skin. When he pushed her forward and leaned down to press his lips against the spot, she inhaled sharply.

“Sorry,” he said immediately as he straightened. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”