The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(124)

Yvonne even managed to begin the turkey, launching its long journey toward completion at the end of the day.

When the first movie came to an end, she found a black-and-white classic, and plopped it in, really feeling the Christmas spirit as her apartment sparkled. Deciding she needed a break after so much cleaning, she opened the fridge and poured herself a glass of cool cider, plopping a cinnamon stick in for good measure.

Curled up under a soft blanket, Yvonne was engrossed in her film as she sipped at her drink, convinced that she had plenty of time to get ready before Zadid arrived. As the movie approached its final scene, there was a knock at her door.

Yvonne’s heart leapt out of her chest. What time was it? Glancing over at her microwave clock she realized it was time for Zadid to be there, and she hadn’t prepared any other food at all! Not only that, but she looked a fright!

“Uh, who is it?” she called out, desperately hoping it might be anyone else so she had a minute or two to get ready.

“Zadid. This is the right place, isn’t it?”

She laughed, trying to keep the sound musical, like a gentle tinkle. She was pretty sure it came out more like a desperate croak.

“Is it six o’clock already? My how time flies!”

“Is this open?” Zadid asked, turning the knob.

To her horror, it absolutely was. The door pressed inward and in walked Zadid, looking clean-cut and handsome as ever in a cashmere black sweater and dark jeans. When he saw her, the corner of his lip turned up slightly.

“I didn’t think to ask about the dress code. Did you mention it was pajama casual?”

Blushing to the roots of her hair, Yvonne fought the urge to dive behind the couch to hide her mortification. Finally, she shrugged, her hands in the air.

“I lost track of time. I’m so sorry, Zadid. I don’t even have the meal prepared yet!”

Zadid closed the door behind him, glancing past her shoulder to see the movie playing.

“That’s a good one. I’ve seen it once or twice,” he said.

She peeked back, then looked at Zadid. He was already standing directly before her, his cologne teasing her senses. He was holding a stunning poinsettia in one hand and an immaculately wrapped gift in the other. Lifting both in her direction, he waited for her to take them.

“I believe this is the customary plant to bring to such a gathering as this. Also, a gift.”

Yvonne awkwardly accepted his gifts, convinced that she might turn into a tomato at any moment. Not only was he the star of her daydreams, he was also her boss! How could she let him see her like this?

Seeing her distress, Zadid placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look up at him.

“It’s no big deal, Yvonne. Why don’t you go get dressed, if it will make you feel more comfortable, and we can cook dinner together? I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty in the kitchen.”

His kindness melted her heart, as it always did. She grinned up at him from beneath shy lashes, setting his gifts on the (thankfully clean) coffee table.

“All right. I promise I won’t be long, and I will make it up to you. Here, we’ll start with this.”

She walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge, deftly popping open a bottle of champagne and pouring it into flutes with little holly berries painted on the sides. She handed one to Zadid, but he held out a hand.

“I couldn’t possibly drink the first champagne of Christmas alone. Please, I’ll keep guard over these and you go change. Then, we can share the toast together.”

“Fair enough,” she agreed.

She left the movie on for him to watch while she closed her bedroom door. How could she have been so foolish? She was usually so good about time management, but the seasonal cheer must have relaxed her a little too much. Reaching for a Christmas tree-colored cowl-neck dress, she made quick work of changing, doing her best to brush last night’s curls into soft waves.

Minutes later, she made peace with what she was able to do in such a short period of time and stepped back out into the living room. Zadid was comfortably seated on her couch, enjoying the film. When he heard her door open, he stood, walking to meet her in the kitchen.

When he did, his eyes ate her up.

“Yvonne…” he began, and she looked up at him, wondering what he would say.

Did he ever think of her as more than an assistant? Sometimes, when they were together, it was as if the room was on fire, but no one could see it but the two of them. Then, a moment later, he would turn and the feeling would be lost—the world turned cold.

She lifted their flutes and handed him one, looking back up into his eyes, which continued to search her own.

“Your eyes are the most unique shade of green I’ve ever seen. It’s as though they are tiny lakes, reflecting a summer forest.”

“Thank you?” she replied, her voice questioning, unsure if he meant that as a compliment or not.

“You’re welcome. To beauty, and a wonderful holiday season,” he toasted, confirming that it was, in fact, a compliment.

She clinked her glass against his and took a sip, grateful for the alcohol in that moment. Setting their glasses down, Zadid clapped his hands together.

“So, what are we doing first?” he asked, gazing in the direction of the oven.

Yvonne stepped further into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a series of ingredients.