A very Mary Sheikhy Christmas - novella - completed

Chapter Eight

Christmas Eve day

Waking up in Zafeer arms, made all the difference in the world. His strong, secure arms around her were all she needed, nestled against his bare chest. Dinner had been magical. She didn't want to move. Burying herself deeper against him, only to hear a meow, pulling back to be glared at. Sparky between them. Mary scooped it out and sent on its way, tail twitching and went back to snuggle in, peeking up into hooded dark brown eyes.

"That was not nice," he noted.

She placed a pleading hand on his chest. "Do you want a squashed kitten on your conscience?"

Smiling, he tucked hair behind her ear, trailing a finger along her jaw to her chin, tapping, gaze lazily, drinking her in that warmed Mary all over. "No, however, I could get used to finding you here."

Cheeks burned bright red, fingers curled against his bare chest. Her head rested on his arm, hair spread across, still wearing his shirt that felt good against her sensitive skin, soft silky texture, eyes focusing on his chest, finding his gaze too intense. "You're not too cold?" Spreading her hand across his pec, fascinated by his perfection, velvet softness yet rock hard. Not really wanting to give up his shirt, her brows going down. "I think there is a pair of pyjamas upstairs." Outlining his defined contour with her fingers, absently.

His chest moved with soft laughter. "Do you not think it is a bit late for that Mary Tingle?" She peered up self conscious, pressing her other hand covered by his shirt against her lips, nodding.

"Sorry." Suddenly very aware of her form, pressed up against him, the sofa not really built for two, wrapped in his bare arms. Sparky meowed from the tree, Mary head turned against his chest, peering across as did Zareef. "I should feed him," reluctant to leave his arms, especially what today meant. She needed to be kept busier than normal, but here, she wasn't so overwhelmed, peering up, looking deeply into his eyes.

She could tell him anything, lips parting, but to speak of the past was hard. So hard. Eyes clouding over, fighting back the pain to finally admit out aloud they were gone. His eyes became concerned. "When you are ready. I will see to the cat, while you get out of this," he tugged at his shirt. Together they sat up more, Mary eased back reluctantly.

"I'd have a shower. The food for the cat is in a bag beside the kitchen sink on the floor. Just a handful, actually," she reached for his hand and spread her hand in his larger one that seemed to swamp hers, fascinated. "Make that half and take no notice of him when he demands more." Leaning in she brushed his lips. "Thank you for last night."

"Shouldn't I be thanking you," he asked amused. "That I do," he rushed in, kissing her back.

She shook her head. "You have no idea how hard I find it...." She drifted off glancing at the tree, eyes shimmering. Gently he caressed her face and guided her back to him, searching, watchful. "It's the rhythm that is smooth and luring."

"Ah, the tree lights, which was, why you were so upset the other morning. I am so sorry, habibti, if I had known it would never have happened." He gathered back into his arms, holding her firmly against his hard chest, ignoring the indignant cat wanting to be fed, until it jumped down from the tree and dared to bite his socked foot, pulling back, yelping.

"Sorry," she apologised giving Sparky, her most scolding glare for daring to bite him.

"Just another demanding feline," Zafeer growled, scooping up the cat, releasing Mary, who glared at him now, more. "Not you," he swooped in and kissed her, before standing, arching his back, stretching, holding it with one hand, while carrying the cat in the other, heading towards the kitchen, entered and kept the door closed.