The Prince and the Working Woman (Desert Prince Book 1) (11 page)

She left her message at the beep. “You know how to find me. I don’t feel like playing games.”

If he showed up she would ask him about the kitten. If he didn’t then he would never know. Sadness settled over her chest. She hated to admit she missed him, but she would be lying if she tried to convince herself otherwise. Why hadn’t he remained an alpha dog so she could keep her emotions safe? Ali Baba rubbed against her ankles and let out a soft cry. Did she really need another male turning her into a sentimental sap? Wasn’t one enough?

* * * *

Hamid paced the lobby debating whether or not to go up. How the hell did he get involved with such an infuriating woman? She overreacted to the gift he gave her and somehow he ended up on the defensive. His damn cell phone died. In the two minutes he took to switch the battery she had called and leaped to the conclusion that he had ignored her. He didn’t know if he should take her smart-ass message as an invitation or a brush off.

You don’t need this
.

Thankfully she was press-phobic or the tabloids would have a field day with their relationship. While his brain told him to leave, he pushed the button, stepped through the open door and took the elevator to the tenth floor.

Amazing aromas of garlic, onion and-- could it be-- grilling chicken greeted him. She expected him. Was he that transparent or could she possibly be expecting someone else? He rang the bell.

The door swung open. Mandy stared in disbelief. "Hamid?"

"You're surprised?"

She moved aside so he could enter. "I figured you were otherwise engaged."

He headed to the kitchen and took a seat at the island. "Really? You roasted that chicken for yourself? Last I heard you were a vegetarian."

She poured two glasses of mango juice and joined him at the counter. "I roasted the chicken for Ali."

His fingers clenched and unquenched. “Who?”

"Ali Baba but I'm sure he will be more than happy to share."

“And who is Ali Baba besides a fairytale character?"

She took a long sip from her glass and swallowed. "Well that's what I needed to talk to you about."

Muscles tensed. He had no idea what she wanted. But if it involved his woman cooking for another man he knew he wasn't going to like it. "What's going on?"

"You are my landlord for the next few weeks."

Technically the kingdom owned the flat, not him, but right now he would hold tight to his veto power for whatever she hoped to slide past him. "What is your question Mandy?"

She sucked in deep breath of air and said, “Can I have a pet?"

Confusion further muddled his already addled brain. "What?"

Before he had time to process the question or formulate an answer, a tiny bundle of white fur pranced across the floor, stopped in front of him and tried to let out a beastly growl that came out as a humorous squeak. Hamid's laughter sent the fur-ball running.

"Ali Baba I presume?"

"I should've called him the Cowardly Lion," she grumbled.

He downed his sweet juice and tried to hide his overwhelming relief. "I thought you were allergic to animals."

She shrugged. “I thought I was allergic to men too, but I developed a tolerance for you."

From any other woman that would have been an insult. From Mandy high praise indeed. "Sometimes you still have violent reactions to me."

"Okay I went too far. But that part of our relationship is not one-sided and I cannot afford to reciprocate. So when you feel the need to thank me for the sex, reward me with more sex."

Had she apologized? He better not ask in case she decided to retract the words.

"Deal." He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a paper bag. "But just one last thing."

Her eyes narrowed. She snatched the bag from his hands. He thought she was going to shove it back in his pocket without looking but instead she opened it and pulled out the gift. A plastic doll with a beret on her head held a brass Eiffel Tower in her fingers. When she smiled he breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently she would accept this gift.

* * * *

Hamid cradled Mandy into the crook of the shoulder. His naked skin after hot sex felt soft and warm, making the plush cotton covers redundant. "How was your week?" he asked.

"Adel didn't tell you?" She’d wondered if her driver checked in with Hamid frequently.

"He doesn't report to me, even if I ask him.”

"Really?"

"He felt that he would be ineffective as a bodyguard/driver if you felt like you were being spied on. If he had to check in he wouldn't take the job." Terms Hamid reluctantly accepted according to his body language.

It gave her a new respect for both Adel and Hamid for accepting the terms. As a control freak herself she knew it had to drive him crazy. "Well we weathered our first neighborhood protest."

His muscles flexed with tension. She hoped he wouldn't make a big deal out of it. "You did?"

She could smile now although she hadn't found it humorous at the time. "It was Grumpy Old Men meets Star Wars." The elderly gentlemen dressed in white caftans with black robes striding down the narrow street looked like a movie outtake.

"What did you do?"

She turned on her side to face him. "There was a lot of shouting and finger waving. Had no clue what they were saying."

"I will make sure they beef up security."

"I don't think that will be necessary. Whatever Adel said sent them away and there hasn't been an incident since. I've seen a few of them around the neighborhood and they haven't bothered me."

“Were you scared?"

"Not at all
." Liar!
Scared the shit out of her
had almost become a reality. Just the memory caused stomach cramps.

"Did you know that when you lie you twirl your finger through your hair?"

She dropped her hand on his chest. "I handled it and I didn't go running home."

"I know you are capable Mandy but you can ask for help when you need it."

"I did ask and a ten-man salvage crew led by my driver took care of the problem." It had paid to let the men take anything they wanted before carting away the last of the junk left behind.

"Fearless now?" He arched an eyebrow. "Are you ready to go out in public with me?"

She admired his persistence. "One phobia at a time Your Highness."

"I'm serious. I have two major public events. First my father's 65th birthday celebration next week."

"That's a family thing."

"No, here it is a national holiday."

A national holiday?
The last birthday she remembered celebrating involved a six pack of beer and a bottle of tequila, neither of which her late husband allowed her to enjoy. He gave her a bruised rib instead. She stopped celebrating after that. “Maybe next time.”

"Okay, you're not ready for the birthday party. Next month is the Silver Jubilee of his coronation. That you will be expected to attend whether you go as my date or not."

"Why would I be expected to go?"

"It's political. A chance for the kingdom to show how much the country has grown in the past 25 years. The new trade policies are the centerpiece of that celebration."

The idea of a formal party that required a designer dress squashed any excitement of being included. "If I am expected than I will be there."

“Control your enthusiasm."

She stroked her finger along his jaw line. "Do we have to fight about it right now?"

"No. I have to be going soon."

The image of him getting dressed so he could sneak out the door in the middle of the night brought a frown. She really did ask a lot of him when he asked nothing of her. "Stay the night."

She wasn't sure who was more surprised by the offer.

* * * *

An early-morning text from the rental company started off the weekend with a bang. The apartment on the sixth floor was ready for occupancy. Butter yellow walls and white trim made the modern apartment seem bright and airy. Built-ins in the living room and bedrooms provided ample storage. The semi furnished contract meant the beds, appliances, and sectionals for which she chose the fabric were included in the rent. She still needed some furniture and all the linens and curtains but not nearly as big a financial commitment as she feared.

When she returned to the tenth floor Hamid still slept like a baby in the king size bed. She grabbed her laptop and dropped into the corner of the sofa with a list of measurements and the layout of the interior. Opening the large Scandinavian furniture website, she found that they maintained a warehouse in Qatar. According to the maps the countries were both on the Persian Gulf and delivery was available. But at what cost?

Hamid joined her in the living room wearing the sheet draped over his broad shoulders. He should have left it on the bed for all it covered. "What are you up to?"

"Furniture shopping online."

He dropped down next to her. His scratchy jaw brushed her cheek as he left a kiss. "It is cheaper if you go locally."

She let out a giggle. "What would you care about cheaper?"

"I wouldn't. But you would. So we can go to the mall today."

"You would troll the mall with me?"

"As long as you don't go shoe shopping."

"What about Victoria's Secret?"

His lip curled back in an evil grin. "If I can pick the wardrobe."

"Never mind. You probably would. And wouldn’t that look great on the front page of the Gulf Times?"

He pulled her into his arms. "You spend too much time worrying about things like that. If we went to the mall no one would even know who I am."

She shook her head. "Oh, like last time when we went to the pharmacy?"

"You called me Your Highness. What did you expect?"

Was he right? "Okay I'll call you John Doe. We'll see if your theory works."

"I'll even up the ante. I'll bet that some of the salesclerks will even be rude to me."

Mandy choked back a laugh. "How could anyone be rude to you?"

"I know. It boggles the mind. Are you in?"

She bowed her head to accept the challenge. “And the winner gets…?”

“The winner gets whatever he wants for twenty-four hours. Make sure you have your tin of breath mints.”

She playfully smacked his shoulder. “Smart ass.”

When Hamid returned for her an hour later, Mandy knew she was going to lose. Dressed in jeans, a graphic T-shirt and aviator sunglasses he could be any man walking the Boston commons, Trafalgar Square, or the Champs-Élysées. He shaved, giving even more definition to his angular features. Like a Chameleon he could change himself with just a change in his attitude. She loved the 5 o'clock shadow and hoped he planned to go back to his scruffy look after he won the bet.

The mall had several furniture warehouses with styles like she could find in any American department store, including the Made in China tags. It shouldn't have come as a surprise but it was a disappointment. By the third store she had accepted that she must bow to economic convention. After two exhausting hours she was almost finished. One last stop for a dining room and she would be done.

"Can I help you?" The salesman directed his question and attention to Mandy. A nice change from the last two businesses where the saleswoman stuck to Hamid like glue.

"She's looking for a dining set," he said.

Apparently the clerk wanted to deal with Mandy. He pointed to a room containing tables and chairs in a wide variety of colors and sizes. He maneuvered himself between the couple. She tried not to laugh at Hamid's frustration.

After choosing a glass and chrome table with modern white chairs, they left the mall and went back to his Hummer. The vehicle was outfitted with bullet-proof glass but he did drive it himself.

Hamid stared at her with his signature satirical grin.

"What?" she asked but she knew what he wanted.

"Say it."

"I don't know what you mean."

He obviously didn't buy her innocent act. "You are such a bad loser."

"No one was rude to you."

"So when the sales clerk called me cheap for not buying you the more expensive furniture that was kissing my royal butt?"

She shrugged. "Actually I thought he was rude to me for thinking that I needed a man to pay my bills."

"Just admit you lost the bet so I can take you home and collect a payment."

"Oh I don't mind paying my debt." Since the wager involved making love it was a win-win situation. It was the bragging rights that she hated to lose. But if she was honest she would have to admit that not one person had an idea as to the identity of the chameleon prince.

Chapter Nine