The Prince and the Working Woman (Desert Prince Book 1) (7 page)

"And who is going to eat the pizza with the meatballs sausage and pepperoni on top?"

"You can give it to the doorman for his kids."

She took hold of his arm. "Do you want to leave? Or is something wrong?"

"Nothing’s wrong. But you really don't need me around to feed your hunger."

She grinned and blushed at the same time. "Are you upset about that?"

He rested against the center island. "No. Although it is a blow to the ego to know that you can get off without me."

"I was thinking about you.” She bumped shoulders. “What is really bothering you?"

He debated answering. This was supposed to be a no strings affair. So why couldn’t he let it go? “Did I touch a nerve when I asked about your husband?"

Her silence said more than a denial ever could. He never bothered to delve into any woman's past. He never had the interest. Everyone carried baggage. But once he knew, he could not un-know, the downside of demanding answers

So much about her was not what he expected. The woman lived in Boston, attended a prestigious university and shared a flat with the Princess of Nadiar. He assumed she came from wealth. He was obviously wrong. Money was an issue but she refused to take anything.

"You didn't touch a nerve."

He ran his fingers through her hair and rested his palm on her face. "Your lips say one thing your eyes say something else."

"What is your point Hamid?"

"Am I competing with the ghost?"

She let out a bitter laugh. "God, I hope not."

"What does that mean?"  Had she not considered him competition because he did not measure up?

"Why are you doing this? Wasn't part of the deal that we kept it sexual and not emotional?"

How could he keep the emotions out when her big green eyes held so much sorrow?

“Are you still in love with him?"

"Please stop."

“I just want to know what I'm up against."

Her body tensed.  She took a step back. Her blazing glare could melt granite. "He was a violent drunk with anger management issues he took out on me. If you get off on beating up on women then you can leave now."

Shit! A brick to the head would have stunned him less. He never considered she had suffered physical pain. Her defensive reaction that first day they met should've given him a clue. The fact that she’d studied martial arts. Her need to be in control. Her refusal to be in debt to anyone. 

“What about your family?”

“My mother left when I was a child and my dear father… Well he advised me to try harder not to tick off my husband.” Hurt and anger filled her eyes with moisture but she fought back the tears.

He folded his arms around hers. She didn't fight him. She didn’t react at all. No wonder she believed all men were dogs. "I will never bring it up again."

He held her for several moments, surprised by how good it felt to offer comfort. Disappointment washed over him when the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of dinner. With a shake of her head, she pulled out of his arms. In a split second she’d morphed from vulnerable to hard as nails. He had seen a side of her she probably never shared before and by the expression on her face, she was not happy about it.

He headed to the front door and reached into his back pocket.

“Don’t even try to pay for dinner,” she warned.

“Do you have local currency?”

“Of course.” She pushed past him.

He should have guessed. He both admired and resented the extreme lengths she took to insure her independence. He despised needy, greedy, clinging woman, but he’d like to be more relevant than a sex partner.

Where the hell had that come from?

Chapter Six

The following morning Mandy headed out the door at 8 o’clock. Her period came a few days early and walking often relieved the uncomfortable symptoms. Other than coffee shops and newsstands, the businesses remained closed. Her first lesson of Touzarian life; they were not morning people. Used to a 24/7 society, she found the quiet morning streets a refreshing change. She stopped for a cup of coffee and a sweet honey pastry at a local café. The thick Turkish brew made espresso seem weak by comparison.

After breakfast she meandered through the residential neighborhoods taking notes. Within a two mile radius there were at least seven different embassies including the American. Each compound had its own security as well as local police patrolling the streets on foot. Although the morning temperature started comfortably each passing moment grew warmer.

At 10 a.m. the stores began to open. Window shopping and speaking with the customers gave her a sense of the area nicknamed Embassy Row. She entered the local pharmacy. Before leaving last night Hamid had asked her if she needed anything. Nothing she would ask of him. Some men might pick up feminine hygiene products for a wife but asking that kind of favor from a man who grew up without a mother or any sisters didn't seem right.

She waited near the front counter for the only female salesperson. The woman and customer engaged in quiet conversation while making no effort to move the transaction along. The unhurried atmosphere seemed a world away from the quick, impersonal pace of chain stores back home.

"I leave you for twelve hours and already you're wandering the streets?"

The voice and the familiar scent brought a smile. She turned to face him. "Your Highness."

He gave her an annoyed glare. "What are you doing out so early?"

Early? Her days in Boston had begun at sunrise and didn’t end until near midnight. "Getting a few supplies."

Breath mints, deodorant and a toothbrush sat in her basket but the one item she came for specifically she couldn't find. And her Arabic English dictionary did not have a translation.

"Are you done?"

"Almost."

"What do you still need?"

She didn't answer. Already some of the store patrons gaped when they realized the Prince walked among them.

"Are you going to play shy at this point?"

She had always dealt with him in a straightforward manner. Sometimes for the shock value and sometimes because it was the only thing he understood. But their conversations never had an audience.

"Feminine products. I will wait for the salesgirl."

He shook his head with a chuckle and babbled something to the pharmacist. The man slapped a carton of granny pads on the counter.

"Really?" she asked.

"Not right? Then what do you need?"

He apparently had no problem asking in front of strangers. Why should she feign modesty? “The ones with the strings. Tampons."

The shop owner cleared his throat and sent the girl in search of the items obviously hidden in the back of the store.

Hamid shrugged. Nothing fazed him. "I left you a list of phone numbers yesterday. You should've called and had it delivered."

"I know. I just wanted to get out for a while."

"Well that works out well. I stopped by to take you to a few properties you might want to consider."

She glanced at the conservative maxi skirt and tunic she chose for the day. Unsure how to dress for the area, she erred on the side of caution. If Levis were good enough for His Royal Highness, they were good enough for her.  “Okay. Let me go back to change first."

He nodded and wrapped his fingers around her forearm to move her away from two gawking patrons. Mandy suddenly noticed that no one spoke. They were too busy trying not to get caught staring while peering up from under bowed heads.

"Does this happen every time you go out?" she whispered.

"Only if someone addresses me as HRH. Otherwise they don’t realize."

"Oh. I thought I was supposed to address you like that in public."

"Only at State affairs. Can we go now?"

"As soon as they ring me up." Thankfully he did not try to pay but a nervous twitch of the lip said he wanted to.

They left the store under collective sighs of relief and hushed conversation. She did not need to speak the language to know the speculation centered on her. They walked down the now bustling street. Hamid moved with the swagger of a man who knew he was being watched but didn't care. How did he ignore the scrutiny? Those fairytales from childhood didn't come close to the reality of royal life.

At a cross street she bent down to fix a loose strap of her sandal. Her pulse quickened. She had a great view of his amazing ass-ets encased in denim. Every time she saw him he looked different. He was a man of many facets. Who was he today?

Minutes later they reached the entrance to the Gulf Point complex. As they waited for the elevator, the boab spoke with Hamid but kept shooting glances at her.

"What’s up?"

He shook his head. "You asked him about empty flats in the complex today."

"Yes. Was that wrong?"

"There is a two bedroom unit on the sixth floor that just became available and another across the courtyard will be free next month."

"When can I see them?" she asked with bubbling enthusiasm. She had heard from one of the shoppers this morning that vacancies went quickly in this area.

“When we get back."

Mandy hid her disappointment and reset her priorities. She was here to open the center and run it. Her living arrangements and social life were secondary. He took time from his day to make these appointments. "All right."

The elevator pinged. They entered. As the doors closed Hamid called out to the boab in deliberate English, "She will take the flat on the sixth floor. Make sure they hold it."

For a moment she stared. The words sunk in. She got the apartment. Waves of excitement raced through her body. She hit the stop button, pushed Hamid up against the wall and threw her arms around his neck. Her body molded to his. Hard muscles brushed against her breasts, his thighs and a particularly solid, throbbing organ pressed along her belly. A deep sign escaped her lips as she met his warm mouth. This definitely beat the stainless steel appliances for turning her on.  Damn, she wanted him to take her right there.

He grasped her waist and returned the kiss with a hunger that matched her own. She was not an exhibitionist but he could turn her into one. Her small plastic bag slipped through her fingers. The sound of the items hitting the floor invaded her lust-addled brain. The man’s touch made her forget everything, including her menstrual cramps. Talk about poor timing. She pushed off him, straightened her clothes and restarted the lift.

He burst out in hearty laughter. "And I thought I was going to catch hell because I made a decision without asking you first."

She really needed to master the art of self-control. “Not this time.  But I have faith you will do something to annoy me before the end of the day.”

* * * *

Mandy blessed the foresight that had her dress in American grunge. Walking around the large compounds, some in various states of construction was a dusty, dirty project. And she loved it. Hamid did not offer even one suggestion.  He only translated when needed but left all the questions and concerns to her.  Was it a test?  If so she felt she passed. 

The neighborhood of Embassy Row consisted of mostly Mediterranean style estates.  Tall stucco walls covered in blooming vines, gave privacy from the street. Inside, large gardens would serve as a beautiful outdoor café and lounge area. She had narrowed her choice down to two and still got no input from her boss. Except to remind her that she worked for the kingdom and not him.

In the end, she went for the only compound that did not have a pool.  She didn’t want to compete with the private sports clubs in the country. Her mission to offer information, education and support to transferees, needed to encourage them to also become part of Touzarian society. While she wanted clients to frequent the center and make use of the facilities, the purpose was not to become an inclusive recreational park for foreigners only.

She had to give Hamid credit. He behaved in a professional manner the entire time. Four compounds and a supermarket stop later they returned. Dr. Jeckel left and Mr. Hyde joined her in the kitchen. He completely invaded her space while she cooked.  She enjoyed his
hands-on
attempt to help but, concentration became difficult.

“Get out if you want anything edible for dinner.”

After debating the matter he apparently opted for food and retreated to the living room to watch the news. A simple dinner of tri-bean salad and rosemary roasted potatoes would fill her but she worried her guest might miss the animal protein she had cut from her diet. While at the store she had tossed a steak in with the other groceries.

Funny how his desire to help earlier didn’t carry over to clean up after. He sprawled out in the wide recliner like the spoiled prince he was. Ironically back home she would have kicked out any lazy ass guy who relegated the job as
woman’s work
. With the last dish put away, she poured two glasses of lemonade and joined him in the living room.