The Sheikh’s Christmas Fling: Christmas With The Yared Sheikhs Book One Read online

  Christmas With The Yared Sheikhs

  The Sheikh’s Christmas Fling

  The Sheikh’s Christmas Family

  The Sheikh’s Christmas Lover

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, DECEMBER 2018

  Copyright © 2018 Relay Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.relaypub.com

  Blurb

  It’s the Christmas season in the tiny Kingdom of Maatkare, and the royal family needs a chef. Desperate to prove herself after her first restaurant failed, Ana Rizzo jumps at this chance for redemption and nabs the high-paying, short-term job. The opportunity couldn’t be more perfect. Ana will be able to stretch her culinary skills, earn enough money to open another restaurant, and still be able to give her adopted daughter the attention she needs. Her biggest challenge will be winning over the family’s elderly cook and getting Noel Yared, the middle son, to give her food his stamp of approval. She only cares about Noel’s palate, not his soulful brown eyes, his gorgeous runner’s body, and his amazing kisses. An avid runner herself, Ana pushes herself to keep up with Noel during their daily runs. But she’s finding the biggest challenge is resisting Noel’s charm.

  Noel finds Ana endlessly fascinating and incredibly sexy. With a bit of charming persuasion from him, the two begin what they both know is a short-term affair. No rules, no heartache, just great sex and a bit of fun. So when he believes Ana has betrayed his family’s trust, he’s glad his heart wasn’t involved. Glad she’s gone. Glad he’ll never see her again. Until he realizes a couple terrible truths too late: Ana was actually the one who was betrayed, and somehow he’s fallen hard for her. Now he needs a bit of Christmas magic to prove he’s worthy of her love.

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  (Christmas With The Yared Sheikhs Book One)

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  End of The Sheikh’s Christmas Fling

  Thank you!

  About Leslie

  Sneak Peek: The Sheikh’s Christmas Family

  Also by Leslie

  1

  Ana hiked her daughter higher up on her hip, wiping away a few strands of chocolate brown hair that had slipped out from her headband. This was their first full day in the palace, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to navigate without a full color map.

  “This place,” she hissed as a palace servant led her and Charlie, her best friend and sous chef, from their wing toward the kitchen, “is bigger than the state of Montana.”

  Charlie snorted. They’d been friends for over ten years, practically long-lost siblings. And if she was going to take anyone on this crazy trip halfway around the world to start a new job as head chef at a palace in a tiny Christian country just a month and a half before Christmas, it was him.

  Linh kicked her legs, clocking the back of Ana’s thighs. She inhaled sharply. “Linh, baby. Not now. Mommy is trying to navigate.”

  “This is kitchen,” the servant said, pushing open a swinging door. A gust of cool air billowed out. Ana grinned, catching sight of the interior.

  “Well look what we have here.” She breezed inside, hiking Linh higher on her hip one more time. The three-year-old was heavier by the week and liked to be held more than Ana’s body could always physically manage. But she couldn’t blame the girl—Ana worked a lot. And with all the recent travel and upheaval in living situations, she wasn’t sure her daughter would detach herself anytime soon from her hip.

  Inside the kitchen, everything gleamed stainless steel and spacious. This was the type of kitchen she’d only ever fantasized about. Enough deep sinks to wash a thousand pounds of potatoes. Wide aisles between work stations, so no hips or butts would knock together.

  And the pans. Oh heavens, the pans. Skillets and sauté pans hung from steel hooks above a center marble island. She ran a finger over the cool edge of a skillet. Charlie whistled low.

  “Looks like we stepped into paradise,” he murmured.

  “You got that right.” Ana smiled at the servant. “Thank you for your help. We’ll be in here for a while. Can you make sure nobody bothers us?” This was part of her process. Isolation in her work space. Enough time to get acquainted with the nooks and crannies of the space that would become her colleague. The palace had a smaller kitchen for prepping daily meals. This one was for the occasions: the banquets and feasts and state dinners. And it was all hers.

  The servant bowed slightly and took his leave. Once the kitchen door clanged shut, Ana and Charlie grinned at each other.

  “Can you believe this?” Ana drew a deep breath as Linh wriggled in her arms to be let down. She slid to the ground and headed toward a cabinet nearby. “Even Linh likes it.”

  “And that’s the deciding factor, isn’t it?” Charlie smiled, ruffling Linh’s jet-black hair. Linh grunted as she tugged at the cabinet door, revealing an entire stock of rubber spatulas. She plopped down on the ground and began pulling them out, one by one.

  “I think this was the right choice.” Ana’s words rang hollow to her ears, even though she’d tried to insert all the conviction she wished she felt. Truth was, she didn’t know what the right choice was anymore. “I’ve been looking for a challenge, you know?”

  Charlie lifted a brow as he strolled down the line of work stations. “A challenge? Or an escape after He Who Will Not Be Named?”

  Ana fought to keep her face neutral. Of course Charlie was right. After her ex, Reggie, drove their joint restaurant into the ground in LA, a spectacle worthy of newspaper editorials and even a brief stint as a trending hashtag, Ana had been struggling to find her balance again.

  “What better way to disconnect than four thousand miles of distance?” She forced a smile. “Even better if it’s with an all-consuming job that might very well make me go gray at age thirty.”

  “That would happen anyway, with the type of kitchens you tend to create,” Charlie cracked.

  Ana rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue with him. She was an exacting professional. Beyond that, she was a trained chef, and she wanted to own her own restaurant again. But before the latter could occur, she needed financial stability.

  Maatkare was her ticket to debt freedom and investment money toward her next business endeavor. All she had to do was make it through to the other side. Forty-three days of elaborate vegan meals in the name of Christmas.

&
nbsp; Piece of vegan cake.

  Except vegan cake usually sucked.

  “Well this needs to be good, Charlie.” Ana sent him a warning look. “I can’t handle another failure. Not after what happened with the restaurant.” She drew a shaky breath, trying to imagine this expansive kitchen filled with waitstaff and cooks. “I need this to go off without a hitch.”

  “Trust me, it will.” Charlie paused to peer underneath a cutting board embedded in a stainless-steel countertop. “You’ve worked in New York. Tokyo. Seoul. Los Angeles. Your restaurant earned a Michelin star before Jerkwad started stealing cash. You’ll pick up the pieces and build something even better.”

  Ana let his words percolate inside her for a few moments until a crash echoed through the kitchen. She rushed toward Linh. Her dark eyes were wide with a toppled jar beside her. Enough spatulas to fill a flea market surrounded her.

  “Oh, honey.” Ana laughed, getting down on her knees. “I forgot. It’s sleepy time for you.”

  Charlie tutted, his voice distant from across the kitchen. “That’s right. It’s almost nine p.m. back home.”

  “This time difference is killer.” Ana returned all the spatulas, then shut the cabinet door. “I’ll put her down for a quick nap. She’ll adjust sooner or later, right?”

  “I hope so, for your sake,” Charlie said.

  Ana scooped Linh into her arms, heading out of the kitchen and back toward their rooms. Scents of gardenia and jasmine reached her as she curved through the hallways. Columns spiraled upward, supporting arching ceilings that were lined with ivy.

  This whole place was a paradise, not just the kitchen. So why couldn’t she get more into it? Linh kicked and fussed at her side, starting a wailing chant of “Nooo, nooo.” Her daughter had no idea how far from home they’d gone; nor could she understand why Daddy didn’t come around anymore, nor would he.

  Reggie had bolted from the restaurant—and from his daughter’s life. Even though they’d spent fifty thousand dollars and a full year of their married life together working to bring Linh from Vietnam, it wasn’t enough to make him commit.

  Ana’s mind wandered, despite the gauzy scent of flowers and the spacious, elegant surroundings. She found herself back at the same question, despite having rationalized it a million times: What am I doing?

  Whatever it was, it needed to be the right thing. If she’d traveled four thousand miles with her toddler and best friend only for this to go up in flames, then maybe she’d just give up on life. Failed marriage, failed relationship, failed restaurant. Maybe life was giving her a hint.

  The bedroom she’d been assigned was larger than her former apartment in LA. There was a sitting area next to a walk-in closet. A four-poster bed was the prominent center piece, and an elaborate wardrobe carved out of acacia had miniature elephant heads for adornment. Every single aspect of this place was thoughtful, decorative, beautiful.

  She should be enjoying it fully, but all she could do was think about Mirage, her failed restaurant. Wonder if the LA food scene would welcome her back with open arms. If any of her old clients would trust her again. If investors would just laugh her out of the game. If food critics would be harsher this time, or maybe, blessedly, more lenient.

  This time change had nothing on her anxiety-related insomnia. She’d adapted in a heartbeat, only because she was barely sleeping anymore.

  Linh went down surprisingly easy and was snoozing with a stuffed whale in her arms within minutes. Ana called the number she’d been given for the nanny the palace had arranged for her, then as a backup rigged up the baby monitor and clipped the speaker to the loop of her jean shorts. She was back in the kitchen moments later. Charlie had already removed some ingredients from an industrial stainless-steel refrigerator.

  “Found tofu and what may or may not be chard,” he said without looking at her. He rustled through the fridge again. “And I think this is ketchup.”

  “Okay. That’s a good start.” She sighed, flits of possible menus streaking through her mind. She could make magic happen with tofu and ketchup and a few other things. “Let’s see what else there is.”

  She and Charlie rummaged through all the cabinets and fridges in the kitchen. After a thorough search, she had enough to get a test kitchen going. And that’s what she needed more than anything. Get the stove cooking. See how things tasted on this side of the world.

  “Okay. Give me thirty?” She lifted a brow at Charlie. He’d know what this was about. She needed her time and space to think. To create. To adjust.

  “Sure thing. I’ll probably go take a nap myself.” He wiped his hands on a towel, then squeezed her shoulder on his way out. Once the door clanged shut behind him, she got to work.

  A drizzle of sunflower oil followed by all those bright greens in a sauté pan. She sliced up some garlic, added that to the mix. While the aromas were mingling, she flitted toward the tofu. Better marinate that. She whipped up a quick ketchup-infused marinade, then returned to the greens. They’d make an excellent filling…like for fatayer. Tiny spinach pies. She grabbed for the flour and got to work creating a dough.

  Ana worked without a sense of time. That was when all her purest creations came out…and when the most stress relief occurred. When she glanced up and saw a tall man approaching her counter, she gasped and stepped back.

  “Jeez. You scared me!” She blinked rapidly, wanting to push the hair out of her eyes but not with dough-covered hands. She tossed her head. The hair moved only slightly, yet it afforded her a clearer view of the surprise visitor.

  Tall, dark, and handsome, with hooded eyes and short, neatly cropped black hair. But those onyx eyes couldn’t hide his suspicion. He looked like maybe he was considering calling someone to report her.

  “Is breakfast ready?”

  She straightened her back. She didn’t like his tone or the insinuation behind the tone. She wasn’t his mommy. She was an esteemed chef.

  “Uh, no. And it won’t be, not from me at least. I’m not in charge of today’s breakfast.” She turned back to her dough, feeling her cheeks heat up while his intense gaze continued. He stepped closer.

  “Then do you mind if I eat what you’re making?”

  She huffed, sending him a flat look. “Look, dude, I am working.”

  A slow grin crossed his face, and that was the first inkling she got that this guy might be messing with her. “I don’t care. I want it.”

  She pursed her lips, studying him for a moment. He was too good looking, and that sent her off kilter. The palace had too many people in it. Who even was this guy? He needed to go back to the sexy man cave he’d come from.

  “No. You can’t. This is my test kitchen, and I’d appreciate it if you left.” She cut the dough and folded it in, willing the evidence of embarrassment to disappear from her face.

  His heels scuffed softly on the tiled floor as he walked the length of the work station. An unnervingly long silence stretched between them. When his dark eyes traveled up her body, it felt like both an admonishment and a caress.

  “Leave? This is my palace.” His lips quirked into a strange smile. “If I wanted, I could have you leave immediately.”

  2

  Noel enjoyed the red flush across the woman’s chest. She was flustered, and he liked that. There was something a little too gratifying about finding an unknown yet intoxicatingly beautiful woman alone in his family’s kitchen.

  Gratifying—and an open doorway for teasing.

  The woman huffed, kneading more forcefully. “Well, I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. But this, right here—” she sent him a sharp look, “is important to me. I’m a chef. I need my space to work.”

  The chef. The recent hire his father had brought on, from America. In the wake of his mother’s absence due to her long-running illness, his father had thought it wise to bring in a foreign woman to prepare the traditionally maternal Christmas Maatkare feasts. She moved to her dough, cutting it into small sections, rolling each one out into flat, oblong piece
s.

  “How about we make a deal? I sample your food, and I won’t tell my father you tried to kick out the prince of Maatkare.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Ah. A diplomat, I see.”

  “Born and raised.”

  A strange smile crossed her lips. “Well, I suppose that sounds fine. After all, I need a little Maatkaran take on some of my recipes.” She washed her hands, drying them on a towel stuffed in the front pocket of her thin white apron. “So you’ll be my official tester.”

  “I suppose my taste buds are up for the task,” he mused.

  She snorted, rubbing her palms against her jean shorts. She looked fresh, somehow. Dewy. Tightly packed and lithe, like she might go for runs every morning. Her cinnamon brown hair was tugged back in a pony tail. She moved with astonishing certainty in this kitchen, which she couldn’t have known for more than a day.

  “First things first. The shawarma marinade.” She moved to a small bowl, whisked it rapidly, then offered him a spoonful. “Thoughts?”

  He grabbed her hand instead of the spoon and took a quick taste. Their eyes locked, and something shivered through him. Blue eyes that reminded him of a spring morning watched him eagerly.

  “Too spicy,” he said, though the marinade left a pleasant buzz on his tongue. She wouldn’t get a free pass so quickly. Not as the newest employee in the palace, and certainly not when it was much more fun to tease first. “Definitely too spicy.”