The Prince and the Working Woman (Desert Prince Book 1) by Kat Attalla
Authors: Kat Attalla
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pay him he’d stick it down her lingerie.
She had already offered him sex. He refused on principal, something he never though he possessed. He didn’t want her gratitude any more than her money. Until she got that same desperate look of desire for him rather than the stainless steel appliances he’d wait. "Do you want me to leave you to enjoy the flat?"
"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
She had already offered him sex. He refused on principal, something he never though he possessed. He didn’t want her gratitude any more than her money. Until she got that same desperate look of desire for him rather than the stainless steel appliances he’d wait. "Do you want me to leave you to enjoy the flat?"
"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
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