The Prince and the Working Woman (Desert Prince Book 1) by Kat Attalla Read Free Book Online Page B

No one who knew her would ever believe it. Walking through the front door of apartment 1001 only got better. Crown molding, modern lighting, and an open concept living room/dining room with hardwood floors leading to the white kitchen with stainless steel appliances.
    Hamid came up in front of her. One more gorgeous accessory to admire. He needed a shave but that gave him a rakish appeal. The scent of fresh flowers mingled with the all-male aroma of musk.
    She folded her arms tightly across her chest to control the tremors of excitement in her body. Her nipples throbbed. Moisture pooled between her legs and made her panties damp. She was having an orgasm without sex. Holy cow! Which turned her on more? The man or the apartment? A combination of both perhaps. She looked away and ran a hand across her face.
    He spun her around and cupped her shoulders. "Are you getting off on this?"
    Yes. "No."
    His deep rich laughter echoed through the room. "Yes you are."
    Heat burned her cheeks. She shook her head and tried to pull away. "I swear if you ever tell anyone I will deny it and make you pay."
    "The place isn’t that impressive."
    "Says the man who never had to sell his blood to make the rent on a fleabag dump."
    He paused as if he couldn’t decide if she was serious. "Your husband left you nothing when he passed away?"
    Her stomach clenched. How did he know about her marriage? How much did he know? "Did you run a background check on me?"
    "Your application. You checked your marital status."
    She had filled out the application before they met. Had she known she would end up involved with him she would have checked single rather than widowed.
    "He left me nothing." Except two broken ribs, numerous lacerations, and a shit-load of debt.
    "But…"
    "I don't want to talk about him." He sure knew how to kill the buzz. At least he knew when to back off.
    He nodded. "Let me show you the rest of the apartment."
    The brief and painful reminder lingered, but the rest of the tour got her back on semi-level ground. Especially when she saw the two balconies off each of the bedrooms. She would never be able to afford the fine furnishings in this apartment but she would be happy with a cot overlooking the stunning city views.
    While she admired the four poster bed, Mandy waited for him to bombard her with his typical double-entendre. It never came.  When they returned to the kitchen he opened the cupboard and pulled out several menus.
    "Are you hungry? We've got the golden arches, KFC. Even Texas BBQ?"
    "I am a vegetarian."
    He gazed at her as if she was an alien. "No chicken or fish?"
    "No."
    "Pizza?"
    "If I must." Not her favorite fast food but the usual compromise when hanging out on campus. Takeout salads were overpriced and she could only swallow so many French fries or onion rings with a Diet Coke.
    "I'll take you out."
    "No you won't. You've done so much for me already.” She arched her eyebrow suggestively. “Any other ideas for filling your hunger?"
    He leaned against the counter. His expression along with his mood had changed for the worse. There were ways she would happily reciprocate. He seemed to back away in the last few minutes. Men! Couldn’t live with them, couldn’t kill them.
    “You can take me out,” he finally said.
    "I can't afford you, Mr. Escargot and Coq-au-vin. I'll go with pizza until I can get to the supermarket tomorrow."
    He placed three menus from the largest American chain restaurants in front of her. She preferred Mama Vito’s on North Street but would have to choose one from the least offensive of the mass produced prefab pizza pies. Sadly, the rest of the world believed this to be fine Italian cuisine.
     
    * * * *
     
    While they waited for their delivery, Mandy opened all the cabinets and closets in the kitchen. The boab had made sure the flat was stocked with items like coffee, tea, milk, eggs and bread. She made a list and appeared to be calculating costs in her head.  If the stubborn brat tried to