Melody woke up with a new determination bubbling inside her. After spending hours tossing and turning and wrestling with her growing affection for Daveed, she came to a realization. If she wanted to start a new life, one she could be proud of—one that Daveed might be proud of too—then she needed to change her thinking.

She got up, got dressed, then headed out to the kitchen, only to find a note from Daveed beside the still-warming coffee pot stating that he would be gone most of the day working on Aileen’s case with the guys and that he’d see her later.

After fixing herself a mug of caffeine, she took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and grabbed paper and a pen. Daveed was always so fond of his lists, maybe she’d start using them too. But the longer she sat there, staring at the blank page, the more she realized lists really weren’t her style. She was more of a spontaneous, go with the flow, see where the adventure takes you kind of gal. She shoved the paper and pen aside.

If she wanted to be self-sufficient, she’d need money. She’d already pawned her ring to get the funds to return to the States, so all she had to her name at the moment was the two thousand left in her personal savings account and the clothes in her suitcase. The money in her account wouldn’t go far in an expensive city like New York. The clothes might be a different story.

Sliding off her stool, she took her coffee back to her bedroom and began pulling everything out of her suitcase to see what she had. Beside the jeans and T-shirt she was wearing, she also had four designer dresses from the most recent resort collections. Three pairs of handmade designer pumps. One Judith Leiber evening bag and assorted lingerie from Paris.

The underthings were out as far as resale, but the rest was up for grabs. There were several vintage shops she frequented in Chelsea. She’d stop by them later and see if they’d be interested in the dresses and shoes. The Leiber clutch—shaped like a sparkly pink seashell—she’d take back to Neiman’s. It was a one-of-a-kind that she’d picked up on a whim on her way to the airport with Jefferson that ill-fated night after her play. At the time, she’d thought she’d carry it during the wedding ceremony. God, what an idiot she’d been.

Inventory taken of her things, she walked back out to the kitchen to go through the newspaper classified ads. No matter what she got for her stuff, she’d still need a steady source of income for the future. But as she went through the ads, her heart sank. Most of the decent paying positions required experience, which she didn’t have. Living under her parents’ roof all her life meant really the only things she knew about were fashion and style. Sure, she had a degree from Vassar, but Daveed had been right to laugh. Liberal Arts was far too broad a topic to give her any real marketable life skills.

Still, she bolstered her resolve. Melody refused to go through the rest of her life feeling as crappy about herself and her situation as she did right now. She wanted to be self-sufficient, respected, a productive part of society.

With that in mind, she headed back to her bedroom again and selected the least flashy, most business-like outfit from amongst the other clothes she wasn’t considering selling. Other than shorts and jeans and T-shirts, she somehow managed to pack a black pantsuit. Pairing it with a white top and a pair of black ballet flats, she looked nearly executive. Shoulders squared, she combed her extravagant curls back into a tight ponytail at the back of her neck then squinted at her reflection. She looked staid and boring and exactly what she imagined all those nameless people who worked in those nameless skyscraper offices looked like on a daily basis. Hopefully, it would be enough to at least get her foot in the door at some of these companies that were hiring.

She finished her coffee and a piece of dry toast, then grabbed the paper and her much more conservative black Coach bag and headed out to get herself a job. But the first business she stopped at required a resume, which she didn’t have. The next was the same.

At the third location, the receptionist immediately recognized Melody from the tabloids and she quickly fled that place when the woman started speaking loudly about the whole debacle with Jefferson Hanks.

Dejected, Melody walked back outside and headed down the sidewalk toward the next job listed in the paper. It was still early and she was determined to get a job. But after four more rejections without even so much as an interview, her self-esteem was starting to take a hit. She headed back out of the latest generic-looking office building bedecked with steel and glass and stood at the corner, waiting in the crowd to cross at the light. She was near Times Square now and as she headed to the next listing in the classifieds, she spotted a hair salon. The sign outside said they were running a special that day of cut-and-styles for women for only twenty dollars. Mel had never spent less than three-hundred at her old salon, but she was on a budget now and this seemed like a great deal. But it was the stares and salacious gossip of the receptionist from earlier that made the final decision for her.

Yep. She was making a change all right, and a new cut seemed like the embodiment of that. Mel headed inside the shop and was immediately ushered to a station in the back of the salon by a young guy with purple hair and multiple piercings. He looked like a disheveled Johnny Depp and had a wicked smile that made her want to take all sorts of risks. He was also gay, as evidenced by the many pictures of him and his partner plastered up all over his work area.

“My name’s Matt and I’ll be your stylist today. So what are we doing, hon?” he asked, giving her an assessing stare in the mirror. He slipped the holder from her ponytail and ran his fingers through her thick blond curls. “All this hair. So pretty.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a sad smile. “But I’m ready for a change.”

“Yeah?” Matt paused, his wicked grin returning. “Like what?”

She glanced around at the various photos hung on the wall and spotted one of a European-looking model with white-blond hair and a short, spiked style. She’d never gone that drastic in her life, but now seemed as good a time as any. Mel pointed to the picture. “Like that.”

Matt’s brown eyes widened. “Really?”

“You don’t think it would look good?”

He pulled her hair back from her face and fussed with it for a minute. “With your bone structure, I think you could go completely bald and still be gorgeous. But it’s a huge change. Are you sure you’re ready for it?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Yes, I need a change.”

His gaze narrowed. “Did anyone ever tell you that you look just like that socialite? The one who ran off with that actor and got splashed all over the tabloids?”

Her heart skipped and she swallowed hard. “That’s why I want a change. Don’t want to be mistaken for that person ever again.”

“Good choice, hon.” Matt winked and directed her back to the shampoo area. “Right this way. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

An hour later and several inches of hair gone, Mel stared at herself in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize herself, which was a good thing. The short, angular cut highlighted her high cheekbones and gave her a more urban, street-wise appearance. With the bangs ruffling across her forehead and the artfully tousled spikes on top of her head, she looked more mature, wiser, stronger. It was exactly what she wanted and needed.

“It’s spectacular,” she said, kissing Matt’s cheek. “Thank you!”

“Thank you for letting me help with your transformation, hon.” He walked her to the front counter and rang her up. After she’d paid, he gave her a final wink and wave. “Go get ‘em, girl.”

“I will.” She headed back out into the sunny New York afternoon with renewed confidence in herself and her job search. Unfortunately, that didn’t translate into any interviews or job offers. By the time four o’clock rolled around, she was sitting back in the same coffee shop that she and Daveed had eaten in a few nights prior. Even they weren’t looking to hire a waitress with no experience. Ugh. Adulting sucked.

After paying for her coffee and salad, she started home toward the condo, clutching her coat tighter around her as snow began to fall. About a block from Heath’s place she spotted a new street vendor setting up near the corner. The man was selling Christmas trees and even as defeated as she felt, she couldn’t help the holiday spirit bubbling inside her. She still had her clothes to pawn and that Leiber bag to return to Neiman’s the next day. What was a few more dollars spent if it would brighten the holidays for her and Daveed? Besides, the proceeds from the vendor were all going to a local youth charity program. She’d be making merry and helping people all at the same time. Win-win.

She chose the smallest tree the guy had and he was kind enough to recruit one of his helpers to carry it up to the condo for her. She wasn’t sure what time Daveed would be back, but she wanted to least have it set up in the corner before he returned. She tipped the helper then closed the door behind him and stared at the undecorated condo. She had a tree, but nothing to put on it. That wouldn’t do at all.

There was a dollar store on the opposite side of the street from the condo and Mel made a beeline for it. She picked up twinkle lights, gaudy red and green and gold balls, lots of sparkly garlands and even a couple of camel ornaments for Daveed, thinking they might remind him of his homeland. At the register, she added a sprig of fresh mistletoe to her purchases. It all came to under thirty bucks total and once again, she relished the thrill of a bargain.

Maybe there was something to be said for this new life after all.

Back upstairs she unwrapped all the decorations and set about festooning the little tree she’d bought. It was only about four feet high and nearly as big around, and maybe it wasn’t as lavish as the towering pines her parents had professionally decorated in their Park Avenue mansion, but she loved the little tree anyway. This was all Melody’s and she couldn’t have been prouder. She got so caught up in her decorating that she lost track of time and soon it was dark out.

Daveed walked in a short time later, ice crystals twinkling off his dark brown hair and the shoulders of his black wool coat. She glanced over at him and her breath caught at the sheer masculine handsomeness of him. She’d never noticed before, but now that he’d told her about his royal heritage, she could see it in his proud stance, the noble air about him. He was every inch a ruler, a sheikh, a gorgeous man who she wanted more and more each day.

Melody swallowed hard and finished hanging the ornament in her hand before she came around the tree to stand before him. “So, what do you think?”

Daveed blinked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “About the tree or the hair?”

She raised a hand self-consciously to brush her fingers through her newly shorn locks. Honestly, she’d been so busy with decorating she’d forgotten all about her hair. “Do you like it?”

Her gaze lowered, she feared he’d hate the new style. Silence dragged on for several agonizing seconds until she couldn’t resist glancing up at him, not sure what to expect.

He studied her closely, his light mocha gaze drifting over her face and hair to finally rest on her lips. They tingled anew, just like they had after he’d kissed her in the pub. She didn’t miss the spark of heat and wonder in his eyes. “It’s… you're… beautiful.”

“Thanks.” She bit her lower lip, aware of the way he tracked the tiny movement with his eyes. “I was ready for a change.”

“Change,” he repeated, like he was in a daze. “Change is good.”

“That’s what I thought.” Her cheeks heated and he stepped closer and suddenly all the air in the room seemed to evaporate, the outside world disappearing, leaving only him, only her, only this moment. Heat pounding, she clenched her hands at her sides to keep from reaching for him. She was still worried he might not feel the same way she did about their impromptu kiss in the diner. For all she knew, he’d only done it out of pity. Nope. Best to wait for him to make the first move so she could be sure he really did want her. “I, uh, got a tree too.”

The words seemed to jar him out of his haze and he glanced up again.

“Oh, right.” His voice sounded oddly rough and his tone distracted. Daveed shrugged out of his coat and hung it on a peg in the wall near the door then walked over to the pudgy pine. “It’s cute.”

“The vendor outside was selling them for a good cause.” She shrugged, now feeling strangely awkward after his intense scrutiny. “It’s the first time I’ve bought a tree for myself. First time I’ve done all the decorating too.” She gestured around the room. “Not sure it’s my forte.”

He inspected one of the camel ornaments she’d bought for him and smiled, then walked back over to join her near the sofa. “Looks good to me. Very festive.” Daveed glanced around and then stopped, staring at something above her head. “Is that mistletoe?”

“What?” She looked up then away quickly. “Yeah, it is.”

“Hmm.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze on her. “There’s a tradition behind that, you know.”

Crap. She’d not meant to be so blatant about wanting to kiss him again, but damn. Now that he’d seen it, she couldn’t say she regretted it either. She didn’t speak, not trusting her voice. Just nodded.

Daveed stepped closer to her again, the toes of his black boots touching the tips of her black ballet flats. She slowly raised her gaze to meet his and he cupped her cheek gently, his smile as warm as the look in his eyes. “Guess we’ll need to do something about that then, eh? Can’t go breaking tradition.”

As his head slowly lowered to hers, Mel whispered, “Traditions are good.”

His lips—soft, warm, tender—brushed gently across hers and her knees wobbled.

This was not how she’d pictured her evening going, but man, oh man, it was so much better than she could ever have imagined.

* * *

If asked, Daveed couldn’t have said exactly why he’d kissed her. Maybe it was because of the impending holidays and the fact she’d been thoughtful enough to get him a tree and decorate it when he’d expected to spend another Christmas alone. Maybe it was in celebration of the fact that finally all his investigative work this afternoon had turned up a lead on the missing Aileen. Seemed a friend who worked at the same newspaper as Murphy’s sister knew she’d been onto a big story and Aileen had told them she was planning on going undercover to get the truth.

Or maybe it was because Melody Hascall-Ebons—the last woman on Earth he should possibly consider sleeping with—was in his arms, all warm and soft and sweet. Her velvety skin filled him with a yearning so strong he nearly lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed right then and there. Her lips parted for him and he dipped his tongue inside her mouth to taste mint and a hint of licorice from the tea she’d been drinking. Her curves felt so right pressed against his hardness and he couldn’t help rocking his hips against her. It had been so long, too long since he’d been with a woman. And damn, but he wanted Melody something fierce.

Using every last ounce of will-power he possessed, Daveed forced himself to pull away. He had to be sure that this was what she wanted. After all, they’d only known each other a few days. She’d just been through a nasty break-up. This time of year always made him miss his family, regardless of the fact he’d not seen them in years. It was the holidays. They made him homesick. His family had been Christian since the fifth century, AD, and the Rafik family always did Christmas up right. He cupped Melody’s flushed cheeks and stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs until she blinked open her passion-dazed eyes.

Her pink lips were wet and swollen from his kisses and an unaccountable burst of masculine pride raced through him. He’d made her look that way—all wanted and ready for his lovemaking. His cock twitched eagerly in response.

“Melody, habibaty,” he said, his words emerging rougher than he’d intended from his lust-tightened throat. “Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want to rush into anything with you. You’ve been through a lot these past few days. Perhaps we should…”

Before he could say anything more, she slid her hands up his chest to place her finger over his lips. “I need this. I need you, Daveed. Please. Let’s share this tonight. Just you and I, and no one else. You want me as much as I want you.” To prove her point, she slid her other hand down to stroke his stiff erection through the fly of his jeans. He couldn’t stop a low groan from escaping any more than he could stop himself from thrusting gently against her palm. “Please,” she said again, her tone quiet and plaintive. “Please don’t turn me away.”

In the end, he gave up fighting against what he wanted, what he’d wanted since the moment she’d walked into the condo that first night—wet and freezing and completely, frustratingly adorable. “Yes.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up against him, her chest pressed tight to his as he started toward the bedroom.

“Wait!” she said, gripping his shoulders tight and tearing her mouth away from his. “Let’s stay here.”

Daveed frowned. He glanced around the living room but saw only the sofa—which wasn’t wide enough or long enough to be comfortable for what he had in mind—and the chairs—which had their advantages and which he might try with her later, but for their first time together, he wanted it to be special. “Here?”

“Yes.” She wriggled out of his arms and walked over to the sofa, pulling down the thick fake fur throw decorating the back of it and tossing it under the tree. She pointed toward the gas fireplace in the far wall while she headed toward the light switch by the front door. “Start the fire while I dim the lights.”

He did as she asked, his blood still slamming through his veins and his cock so hard he was surprised he could walk. But when he saw the effects afterward, he knew she’d been right. With the flames dancing in the fireplace and casting the entire room in a soft, warm glow, and the twinkling lights of the snowy cityscape outside rivaling the magical lights on their own small tree, Daveed was enchanted. Both with the scene and with Melody.

She came to him again and this time when he picked her up, he vowed never to let her go again. Not until they’d finished what they started here. He lowered her to the floor atop the fluffy throw, then knelt beside her to slowly peel away her clothes and his. For every inch of her lovely, creamy skin he uncovered he gave it a lick or a kiss or a stroke. She was moaning and clutching at his arms, as if desperate to feel him against her, skin to skin at last.

More than willing to oblige, Daveed finally conceded and stretched out beside her on the large throw, naked and fully aroused. She seemed to fit him perfectly, her small but perfectly formed breasts just the right size to fill his palms and her berry-pink nipples all but begged for his mouth to lick and suck them. Again, he didn’t disappoint. After kissing her deeply, Daveed trailed his mouth down her throat to her collarbone, then bent and took one straining peak between his lips, gazing up at her as she arched beneath him, her fingers threading through his hair to tickle his scalp. He shivered at the touch, inwardly praising the heavens for gifting him with this glorious woman tonight. At the same time, he couldn’t help thinking Heath was such a fool for ever letting such a treasure get away.

After lavish attention on one breast, he moved to do the same to its twin, his fingers stroking down her flat belly to the small tidy patch of blond curls between her thighs. She parted her quivering legs for him and he rested his palm over her wet heat, claiming ownership of her, at least for their one evening together. This might be wrong, might be temporary, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be special too.

As he traced his fingers over her slick folds to find her sensitive clit hidden within them, she cried out, her breath panting and her eyes closed as she lost herself in sensation. Daveed couldn’t ever remember seeing a more beautiful sight in his life. Since joining the military and later, after his discharge, he’d had many encounters like this one, many short-term flings. But try as he might to keep his emotions detached from what he and Melody were sharing tonight, he found he couldn’t. She charged past the well-defined, organized boxes he tried to keep her within and forced him to feel more. A storm of new emotions raged inside him—desire, possessiveness, need, tenderness—and threatened to overwhelm him if he didn’t maintain control. And the only way he was going to do that was by making Melody lose hers first.

“Oh, God!” Melody said, digging her nails into his hair as he left her breasts to kiss his way down her abdomen to the treasure between her legs. “What are you doing?”

“I want to taste you, habibaty.” He leaned in and dropped a quick kiss between her legs and she bucked hard beneath him. Bracing his arms around her thighs to keep her open and available to him, he then traced his tongue slowly up her slick folds to the top where her stiff clit was peeking out at him. She cried out and melted against him, her hands no longer trying to pull him away but instead gently guiding him, showing him what she liked most. Soon, he had his fingers joining in, along with his tongue, with first one, then two fingers thrusting within her, preparing her for him while bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh, oh, Daveed, I’m… I’m…”

“Are you getting close, habibaty?” he asked, loving the spicy taste of her arousal and the heady scent of her need for him. “Let go for me. Let me see you cum for me.”

He continued circling her clit with his tongue and soon she bowed beneath him, her loud groans of satisfaction echoing around the room as her inner channel convulsed around his fingers. “Yes, that’s it, sweetheart. That’s it, habibaty. Give it all to me. Show me how much you want me,” he murmured against her sensitive flesh, milking every drop of pleasure from her orgasm and prolonging the feeling for her as long as possible. When she finally relaxed back against the floor, her body slack and sated, he slowly nuzzled his way up her body to her mouth, kissing her deeply. “You are so beautiful.”

She stroked his sweat dampened hair away from his forehead and smiled, so lovely it made his chest ache. “No, you are.”

Grinning, he pumped his hard cock against her thigh. “Men are not beautiful. Men are handsome.”

“You’re beautiful, and handsome.” Melody slid her hand between them to grip his length and slowly stroke him. He wanted her so badly that if she kept it up, he wouldn’t last. Then she traced her thumb over the blunt head of his cock, spreading the bead of moisture there in to his skin and he had to grab her wrist. Had to pull her hand away before he embarrassed himself. At her disappointed look, he bent and kissed her quickly again before moving away to get the condom he always kept in his wallet. As he opened the tiny foil packet and put it on, she watched him, eyes half-lidded and her smile soft in the glow of the Christmas tree and the fire behind them. “God, you are so gorgeous,” she said, giving him a head-to-toe appraisal as he stood naked and fully hard before her. Melody crooked her finger at him in blatant invitation. “Come here.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. As he covered her body with his once more, the fur from the throw tickled his bare skin and made him even more aware of her firm, warm curves beneath him.

She raised her knees and he knelt between her thighs, positioning her as he wanted her before allowing just the tip of his hard cock to penetrate her wet entrance. Melody bit her lower lip and closed her eyes, pressing her hips against him, her voice throaty as she sighed, “More.”

Unable to resist the overwhelming tide of want inside him any longer, Daveed entered her completely in one long stroke, burying himself hilt-deep within her welcoming heat. He nuzzled the pulse point at the base of her throat while he held still, allowing her time to adjust to his considerable length and girth.

At last, she began to move beneath him, arching her hips into his and moaning softly. “I need you, Daveed. Please.”

“And you shall have me, habibaty.” He withdrew almost to his tip then drove inside her once more, setting up a rhythm that she soon matched, pushing them closer and closer to the brink. He adjusted his angle of penetration to hit the sweet spot inside her and reached down to stroke her clit once more as she wrapped her ankles around his waist, seeming to love every minute of his attentions.

He’d never been with a woman who so readily embraced her sexuality and he found it utterly intoxicating. She matched him stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust, even pulling him down for a hot, open-mouthed kiss as he tipped her upward until he was sitting back on his heels and she was astride his thighs, giving them both maximum pleasure. She rode him hard, taking what she wanted from him and returning it to him through her tiny mewls and groans of praise and ecstasy.

Pressure built in his lower back, coiling tighter and tighter as his release loomed. With one hand, he cupped the back of her head and with the other he reached down to stroke her clit once again, his tone commanding. “Cum for me. I need you to cum for me again, habibaty.”

“Yes,” she said, resting her forehead against his, her eyes staring into his, her pupils so dilated with need that they all but obliterated her bright blue irises. “Yes. Make me cum for you. Make me…” Her voice trailed off and her head fell back into his hand and she arched against him, her nails digging deep into his shoulders as she climaxed hard around him. “Yes!”

Driven over the edge now, Daveed slammed hard into her, the tightness of her inner walls milking his cock hard and pushing him toward the brink of fulfillment. One last, hard stroke and his world shattered. Ripples of incredible pleasure washed over him as wave after wave of orgasms swept everything else away except this moment, this night, this woman. He held her tight to him, his moans and cries of pleasure swallowed by her kiss.

When they finally collapsed atop the fake fur throw again, it was in a tumble of entwined limbs and smiles. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her, stroking her amazingly soft skin, kissing her velvet pink lips.

It took several minutes for them to catch their breath and float back down to earth. She shivered slightly beside him, and he pulled her closer into his side, wrapping the throw around them as they lay beside the Christmas tree, staring up at the beautiful lights.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on the skin of her arm. Things all seemed so peaceful and quiet now, in the afterglow, but reality would return for them soon enough. He felt the need to learn more about her, to stay in their own private oasis a little longer. “What do you really want, habibaty? What do you want to do most in life, right now?”

“Besides make love to you again?” she asked, giggling, then leaning up to press her lips to his again. She laid her head on his chest, right over his still-pounding heart. “I don’t know. If money was no object?”

“Yes.” He gave a sad little grin and kissed the top of her head. From now on, money would always be an object for her. But she deserved this one small fantasy. “Regardless of cost.”

“Hmm.” She sighed and he felt her smile against his skin. “I guess I’d want to go and hang out where it’s warm. Maybe at the beach where I could play with the dolphins.”

“Ah.” He smiled too. “There are plenty of dolphins in the waters around my family’s island, Al Dar Nasrani.” Daveed shrugged and laughed. “Of course, it’s quite expensive there too. But I might have an ‘in’ with the establishment and could get you a good discount.”

“I bet you could.” She buried her face in his chest and giggled. “I bet I’d stand out there, huh? With my blond hair and funny New York accent? I’m sure your family would love having their future sheikh bring home some tabloid-trash American heiress for the weekend, eh?”

His grin fell at the hint of sadness in her tone. Did she really see herself as damaged goods now? That was so far from the truth he didn’t even know where to begin to explain. So, he shared with her some tidbits about himself instead. “Chances are good I’ll never ascend to the throne. My brothers are working hard to convince my father that Al Dar Nasrani should become a parliamentary government.”

“Like England?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“But the Queen is still there.”

“Only as a figurehead.” He rolled onto his side and kissed her again, not wanting to talk about his family anymore. The longer they laid there, the chillier it got and the worse his stiff back felt. He kissed her once more before standing and extending his hand down to her. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, taking his hand and standing beside him. The throw fell away, leaving them both naked as the day they were born.

Daveed had never been modest about his body, but most of the women he’d dated had been. Not Melody though. She stretched like a cat, all lithe and graceful. He felt the stirrings of life in his cock again. Another first. Seemed his desire for her knew no bounds.

“So, what are we doing now?” she asked, giving him a coy look from beneath her lashes.

He growled and grabbed her around the waist, tossing her over his shoulder caveman style and swatting her butt. Her surprised laughter filled the room as he carted her off toward the hall and his bed. “Now I’m going to make love to you again properly.”

“Properly?” she said, with mock disappointment. “But I like it when you’re naughty.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” He kissed her hip and grinned. “We’re both going to be very, very naughty tonight.”