The Prince and the Working Woman (Desert Prince Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

smile stopped time like a special moment captured on an old Polaroid photo. Thunderstruck, he could only stare.
    Rashid pushed him. "They are waiting for you to start."
    "Huh?"
    "We went over this at the rehearsal."
    Hamid couldn't remember his name right now let alone any instructions.
    "She doesn't bite."
    "Too bad," he muttered under his breath.
    "She might make an exception for you if you don't stop gawking at her like a pervert."
    He did not gawk; he merely admired the beautiful woman. Smoky makeup accentuated the unique green color of her huge eyes. He couldn’t call her Oreo anymore but she was delicious.  He moved alongside of her. She smelled of lemon and coconut; an odd combination that fed his hunger. He wanted to bury his face in her silky hair. Even cut and styled, it had a wild windswept look. Without her lethal heels he could look at the top of her head. Now this felt comfortable in a very uncomfortably aroused way.
    “ Sabah el khir ,” Mandy said.
    “Good morning to you. Learning the language? You won’t need it for the position.”
    She toyed with a scarf in her hand. “I’ll need it to live there.”
    “For what?” As the wedding party lined up, he moved closer.
    “Grocery shopping.”
    “You order online and the food is delivered, signed for by the boab, and brought to your door.”
    “What’s a boab ?
    “Like a door man, only more. Every building has one.” Something he took for granted seemed alien to her.
    “I’m going to need to speak to taxi drivers to get to meetings.”
    “You’ll have a car and driver.” Her lips formed a surprised O. It was no more than any other employee at her level would have as part of the contract. Driving in Touzar required a special kind of patience. With her hair-triggered temper he pictured her as the poster child for road rage.
    “Personal shopping?” she challenged.
    Sadly in the today’s world, English was the language of money and the second language of almost every country. “Most sales clerks are bilingual.”
    “Well I am going to study it because it is respectful to learn the language of my host country.’
    “All right, I will buy that one. I’d be happy to help you study.”
    Her soft laughter brushed over his neck. “Out of the goodness of your heart?”
    “Of course.”
    “And I suppose you have a bridge across the desert you’d like to sell me.”
    He threw his hand dramatically over his heart. “Do you doubt my sincerity?”
    A golden glint of humor sparked in her eyes. “I’d take it more seriously in you were looking at my face instead of my girls.”
    Hamid grinned. He wouldn’t mind a threesome with her and the girls. “I was admiring your beautiful butterfly necklace.”
    “It’s a dragonfly.” She placed the beaded scarf over her head. The longer side draped from shoulder to shoulder, covering the tempting cleavage.
    He groaned. “No.”
    “It’s time to go in to the mosque. Shoes off and head covered.”
    She not only knew but respected their customs. He admired that despite the fact that she blocked his rousing view. “We’ll finish this later.”
    “Can I stop you?”
    If he believed for one moment that she wanted him to stop, he would. He’d never forced his attention on a woman. But the hint of a smile said better than words that she planned to make it a challenge. He was up for it in more ways than one.
     
    * * * *
     
    The party that never ended. That was how Mandy would describe the reception. After the high noon blessing at the mosque, the guests were led to the reception area for an exciting show. The orchestra, made up of percussion and string instruments, with upbeat rhythms, had her tapping her toes. The whirling dervish, spinning brightly colored skirts, made her dizzy even while she was mesmerized.
    The belly dancers followed. They gyrated around the room and pulled the female party goers onto the floor. Mandy could not escape. And to make sure no one missed her, one dancer tied a bright red