Fighting With the Infuriating Prince (2 page)

He had a valid point, but she wasn’t backing down on hers either.  “An equal playing field should still be the goal.”

Tasir shook his head.  “At its deepest level, humanity doesn’t want an equal playing field.  You’re just trying to redefine…”

“Don’t you dare call me a communist again!” she almost shouted at him. 

“Idealist,” he finished after her outburst, suppressing his laughter at her disgruntled expression.  “Come to the real world, princess.  And maybe you’ll make more of a difference.”

She was practically shaking with her fury.  “I suppose that you think women should be barefoot and pregnant and shouldn’t be stealing jobs that your unequal playing field has yet to create?  Isn’t it nice that most of your policies educate and promote men and leave more than half of your population defenseless?  Not the best way to eliminate poverty but a good start at helping half of your citizens with their innate need to feel better than someone else, right?”

His eyebrows drew down over his eyes with those words.  “The women of my country have just as much opportunity to attend school as any man.”

She shook her head, unaware of how soft wisps of her lovely, dark hair danced against her creamy complexion.  “No!  And what’s worse is that you have no idea that you’re promoting men over women with every law you pass.  Do you purposely deny women any say in the political process or are you just stopping it by not letting them into the schools so they don’t even know how to read an election ballot?”

He wasn’t letting her get away with that accusation.  “The literacy rates in my country are higher than in many other countries,” he came right back.

She moved forward in her chair, really getting into the argument now.  “What are the discrepancies between the rates of males and females?  Is there an equal distribution of girls and boys in the classroom?  And in the classroom, are the girls allowed to sit in the front of the class or are they relegated to the back?”

“Gender bias is decreasing but it is a slow process.  We cannot combat centuries of discrimination in one generation.  You’re determined to only see the wrong in the world.”

Her eyes widened with that accusation.  “I thought you just called me an idealist?” she argued right back.

“I think you’re a very passionate woman with a skewed view of the world,” he countered.

Jalayla realized suddenly that she was virtually shouting! 

She took a deep breath and hid her hands underneath the table.  “This conversation has gotten out of control,” she said in a much more even tone. 

Tasir was astonished for two reasons.  First of all, she had a point and he was furious that her ideas hadn’t been brought to his attention before this moment.  And secondly, his body was hard as a rock, ready to lift her up and make love to her right here on the dining room table. 

He couldn’t believe that he was turned on by this woman once again.  He’d thought that this afternoon had been a fluke.  He didn’t like argumentative, opinionated women.  He preferred ladies who were soft and ready to please and accept pleasure.  This woman sitting across from him would more than likely stab him than make love with him. 

“I think I’ve had enough for the night,” she said and stood up.  “I apologize for abandoning the meal, but perhaps it would be better if we just went our separate ways.”  And with that, she walked out of the dining room with her head held high and her shoulders stiff. 

Tasir cursed under his breath as his erection started throbbing with the view of her very round, very delectable looking derriere as she departed.  He pulled his eyes away, thinking he’d like to paddle that bottom.  But that only caused him to groan out loud at the image of her body lying across his, that bottom right there for his eyes to feast upon.  Oh yes, he’d spank her.  And then he’d make love to her until she didn’t have the energy to argue with him any longer. 

With that image in his mind, he stood up and walked into the salon attached to the dining room.  Pouring himself a large portion of scotch, he downed it in one swallow.  He hissed as the burn slid down his throat and he could even feel it in his chest.  Damn that woman! 

Jalayla lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling.  That man just made her so angry!  He was pompous and arrogant and wouldn’t accept that she might have a point!  No concessions in any way! 

And to call her an idealist!  Oh, that was low!  She might have lofty goals, but she truly believed that she could make a difference.  If everyone helped out, the world could definitely be a better place. 

And she was hungry!  She’d skipped lunch because of their afternoon encounter and she’d barely eaten anything over dinner because of their evening argument. 

Snapping the sheets back, she glanced at the clock.  It was after two o’clock in the morning and she was starving.  She would never be able to get to sleep with this aching emptiness.  Or the anger.

A cup of hot milk would help. 

She grabbed her silk robe and walked over to the wall.  Her fingers traced the moldings, looking for the switch.  She hadn’t been through this secret passage in years but she knew the lock was around here somewhere.  A moment later, her fingers slid over the secret latch!  With a snick, the wall opened up.  Slipping into the hallway, she peered around but it was too dark to venture further.  She ran back to her bedroom and found a flashlight and slippers.  No way was she going in there without a flashlight.  Talk about creepy things!  A dark, closed off tunnel was the thing nightmares were made of. 

Slipping through the secret passageway, she refused to think about how dark it was behind her.  She and her best friend, Princess Ciara from Altair, had come to this fortress so many times and they’d traveled through these tunnels, making sure they knew all of them.  They’d never told anyone else, although she was fairly sure that someone else must know about them. 

It took her a couple of wrong turns, but eventually she found the secret door that led to the fortress kitchen.  Pushing it open, she slipped into the darkened room, looking around to make sure no one else was present. 

Sure enough, the night crew was finished and the morning team hadn’t started yet.  They would probably be here in a few hours, ready to start preparations for the morning meal.  But right now, she was free to grab the ice cream that was in the freezer.  She grabbed some cheese and crackers as well, and a bottle of wine.  No need to go for the warm milk when a glass of excellent wine might have the same effect. 

Sitting down with the ice cream on her right, the cheese and crackers to her left and the glass of wine front and center, she perched on a stool and enjoyed her middle of the night feast.

The ice cream soothed all of her frustrations and the wine went perfectly with the sharp cheese.  She knew that this was the best meal she’d had in a long time. 

Until the deep, gravelly voice interrupted her.

“Not the healthiest meal I’ve ever seen,” the deep voice said from the kitchen doorway.  “But I’m guessing it is delicious.”

Jalayla twisted on the stool she’d pulled up to the counter, her breath catching in her throat when she spotted Prince Tasir, without a shirt and wearing only a pair of jeans that rode very low on his hips.  And bare feet.  Goodness, those bare feet looked…

Jalayla was having trouble breathing as he pushed away from the doorway where he’d obviously been watching her.  Walking towards her, he looked like some sort of body builder with all of those bulging muscles on his arms and shoulders, those ridges in his stomach.  She wasn’t aware of her mouth falling open as she watched him approach. 

Tasir couldn’t believe his eyes.  When he’d walked into the kitchen, there she was.  No longer was she dressed in the formal blue gown from the evening or the stiff suit he’d first seen her in this afternoon. 

Instead, she was draped in rose silk that smoothed over her figure, making his erection fire up once again.  Not that it had ever really gone away.  He no longer needed to figure out what it was about her that drove him so nuts.  It wasn’t her fiery tongue or the flashing brown eyes.  Nope.  It was her figure.  Those full, soft breasts were pressing against the silk, her nipples forming beads under the material that made his mouth ache to taste and feel with his tongue.  Her waist was slight but then her hips flared out into a perfect hourglass, making him want to slide his hands down so he could cup the round softness of her bottom. 

He took a deep breath and tried to regain control of his raging libido.  Never had he been this affected by a woman.  “Hungry?” he asked her, trying to figure out what it was about her that caused such an impact. 

Tasir didn’t wait for a response.  He simply grabbed her delicate wrist, pulling the spoonful of now-melting ice cream to his mouth and devoured the sweet treat, just as he wanted to do to her.  As he looked down into her startled, brown eyes, he was certain that she would taste much better than the ice cream. 

“Put a shirt on!” she snapped, whipping out of her perusal of all those magnificent muscles. 

“No,” he countered and took her wine glass.  Lifting it to his mouth, he downed the entire contents.  When he was done, he put the glass back on the counter behind her. 

“Move back!” she gasped, leaning against the metal counter because he was so close. 

He leaned in even closer.  “Make me,” he challenged. 

Jalayla fisted her hands, trying to resist the temptation to press her fingers against that bare chest.  She was absolutely not interested in feeling those muscles, she promised herself.  And she wasn’t enthralled by that dark hair or the flat, male nipples that…

“You’re crowding me,” she told him angrily. 

She stood up but he trapped her even more effectively by putting a hand on either side of her, flat on the metal counter behind her.  “So push me away,” he told her, his voice husky and sexy and oh-so-amazing. 

“I’m not touching you,” she snapped back at him but she was having trouble tearing her eyes away from that chest. 

“I get it,” he told her with a smug expression to his handsome face.

She didn’t like the sound of that.  “What do you think you understand?  You don’t understand me at all.  You’re too arrogant to understand anyone but yourself!”

He leaned in even more and she gasped when she felt his strong hands at her waist.  She grabbed his wrists, trying to push him away.  But he ignored her efforts and simply lifted her up onto the counter.  “What the hell did I do to make you so angry?” he demanded.  He grabbed another glass from the shelf behind him and poured wine into both.  “I’m a nice guy.”

Jalayla shivered as she curled her legs up onto the countertop.  He stole her stool and, from the hard look in his eyes, she suspected that he wasn’t going to let her down off of the counter until she talked to him.

“It’s late.”

“And it’s going to get a whole lot later.  You’d better start trying to figure out how we’re going to get along with each other because I have a whole week here with your father and mine.  So unless you’re going to turn tail and run, we’re going to be running into each other over the next several days.”

She stared up at him for a pregnant moment before reaction set in.  “You can’t be here for the whole week!” she gasped.  “You have to be at that stupid conference in Dubai!”

He shook his head and sipped the wine.  “Nope.  My father sent his aide.  He wanted me here.”

She clamped her lips shut. 

He chuckled at her adorable expression.  “Drink your wine and tell me why you’re such an uptight snob.”

Her shoulders stiffened even more at those words.  “I am not a snob!” she gasped.  “And I am certainly not uptight!  Just because I don’t appreciate the lumbering efforts of an enormous oaf to manhandle me, that gives you no right to pass judgment on me.”

“You’ve already passed judgment on me.  Fair play to throw it right back at you.”  He tossed a cracker into his mouth. 

She glared back at him indignantly, then grabbed the spoon and delved into the softened ice cream.  “Is it so bad that someone on this planet doesn’t think you’re the most amazing man in the world?”

“That would be fine, if you were the kind of female that respected men.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I respect men when they’re considerate and kind.”  Jalayla pulled her eyes away from the blue-black hair that seemed to be reflecting the overhead lights of the kitchen.  He wasn’t good looking, she reminded herself.  He was just a man, and not a nice one at that.  If her eyes wandered to his broad, muscular shoulders, it was the same reaction she’d have if staring at an interesting statue.  No, she clarified, the statue she could appreciate.  This man just exasperated her. 

He chuckled, shaking his dark head.  “No.  You only deal with men when you can walk all over them.  I bet you’re one of those women who would prefer men to be subservient to women.”

She huffed as she swallowed another bite of ice cream.  “I don’t hate men.  I think there should be equal respect on both sides.  That’s a foreign concept to you though.  Too hard dealing with a woman who can think and walk at the same time?” she taunted, blinking her long lashes rapidly. 

They sparred back and forth until the cheese and crackers were gone, the bottle of wine emptied and the ice cream half gone.  Jalayla would like to say that he’d eaten most of the food and yes, he’d made a significant dent in that feast, but she’d certainly helped.  She wasn’t even hungry but there was a strange, clawing need inside of her that couldn’t be assuaged.  The longer they argued, the more she ate. 

She put the lid firmly on top of the ice cream, trying to get herself to stop eating.  “Just because men are stronger, that doesn’t mean that they’re better.”

He stood up abruptly and leaned over her.  “Do you really believe that a stronger person doesn’t have an advantage in this world?” he asked.  At the same time, his hand slipped onto her ankle, exposed by her now-relaxed pose. 

Jalayla’s breath caught and her eyes widened.  She opened her mouth to say something, but his fingers moved again and whatever she’d been about to say simply fluttered out of her mind.  Shaking her head, she tried to move her leg out of his grasp but his fingers closed over the delicate bones. 

She re-focused on their argument, unwilling to let him think he’d won.  “Strength definitely has an advantage in the short term, but long term, it is going to take…”

She didn’t have a chance to finish that sentence.  His eyes moved away from her face, down to her legs.  Her mind stopped thinking completely as his long fingers stroked her calf, moved down to her toes and her feet.  Those strong fingers pressed into the strained muscles of her feet and she closed her eyes as erotic sensations shot through her whole body. 

She wasn’t aware of how her head fell backwards.  But Tasir was.  The entire time they’d been arguing with each other, he had been painfully aware of her nipples pressing against the silk of her robe.  When he pressed his fingers into the arch of her foot, something shot right through her body. Jalayla’s breath left her body in a whoosh, her hands fisting against the countertop. She opened her mouth to beg him to stop, but then his strong fingers moved again against her foot.

She was completely unaware of the way her back arched whenever he pressed his fingers against her foot. But Tasir was completely aware of all of the signs that she was unconsciously broadcasting. His eyes missed nothing as her body trembled against his hands, his fingers absorbing each of her shivers as he worked the muscles in her feet. Not many people knew all of the erogenous zones that were centered in the foot, but he’d learned through experience, trial and error. His triumph was in watching the expressions on her face as her body came alive from his touch.

“What are you doing to me?” she whispered with more than a touch of desperation.

Tasir stood up, his hands sliding up her legs and bringing the silk of her nightgown right along with them. “You have been tormenting me ever since the moment we met this afternoon. I’m just giving back a little bit of what you’ve done to me.”

“I haven’t done anything to you,” she said as she shivered. His hands slid higher, pausing against her knee. When his fingers tickled the back of her legs her eyes opened up and she stared into his eyes. “So is this proving that you’re stronger?”

His eyes moved down to her legs, noticing how soft and smooth her skin was.  “Oh no, this is retribution. Pure and simple retribution.”

Her hands had been holding her up as she leaned back against the countertop. But when his hands started to move further up her legs, she gave up that position and grabbed his wrists, so startled by the feelings zinging through her with his hands moving onto skin that no man had ever touched before. She couldn’t handle this. Her head shook back and forth, denying him any further movement.

“We can’t do this,” she told him, her eyes wide with both amazement and need, but also laced with fear and confusion.

His dark eyes moved from her beautiful features down to her breasts, noting the twin peaks that were pressing against the silk of her nightgown and robe. “Oh, we’re going to do this and so much more.”

She shook her head. “No, we can’t.”

“Give me one good reason,” he demanded softly.

It was a struggle to try and think or even form words with her mouth. Jalayla was desperate to stop his hands. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. Didn’t she hate this man? Wasn’t he the enemy?