The Prince and the Working Woman (Desert Prince Book 1) by Kat Attalla Page A
Authors: Kat Attalla
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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
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
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