Rachel thought hard, but she couldn’t come up with any alternatives besides quitting. But since she absolutely loved her job, loved working with Princess Talia, she pressed her lips together, suppressing the urge to beg Her Highness not to throw her to the wolf!
Rachel stood up and walked out of the room on numb legs, frantically trying to come up with a plan. Any plan! Anything that would keep her from being around Prince Tarin el Raminar, the most amazingly wonderful, sweetly kind man she’d ever met in her life!
Just being on the opposite side of the room from him had once sent her heart fluttering and she’d dropped her armload of papers. Thankfully, he’d been too far away to notice what was happening, but she’d learned her lesson that day.
Tarin closed his eyes as he dropped his phone on the desk. Looking outside at the small, sun-filled courtyard, he breathed slowly in, held the breath for a few seconds, then released the air in a controlled manner. He’d learned the technique after training with the US Navy SEALs and it had served him well over the years.
Unfortunately, the SEALs had never met Rachel Morris. The breathing technique didn’t help in any way and his body tightened just thinking about the woman’s delicate features and her soft curves, which she always kept hidden beneath the most hideous outfits. Unfortunately, those dresses were more like some sort of virginal fetish-wear, he thought, leaning his hands against his desk and bowing his head. She was so incredibly lovely in a soft, delicate way.
She was beautiful, but he couldn’t say that Rachel was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but there was just something about her, something that called to him. She could be just walking down the hallway and when he’d see her, his body would tighten with desire as he watched those flowered, librarian/school-teacher dresses flutter around her legs. Every time she pushed those dark-rimmed glasses higher up onto her nose, it felt like she was touching his…!
“Damn it!” he snapped.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” his brother, Gaelen, asked. Gaelen was about eighteen months younger than their oldest brother, Amit, who was the leader of Izara, and every time a birthday came around, Tarin thanked God for their birth order! The thought of what Amit had to deal with every damn day would leave Tarin begging for mercy. Amit released the tension from his oppressive responsibilities by drawing and, lately, painting. He was pretty damn good too.
But Tarin enjoyed being responsible for the infrastructure of Izara. He loved inspecting bridges and buildings, commissioning road projects and water systems. The job called to his long passion of architecture and suited his personality perfectly.
Gaelen dropped a file on his desk. “These are the consultants you asked me about last week.”
Tarin looked at the thick folder and groaned. Just the thought of going through all those reports made his shoulder muscles tighten, because he knew that he should hand off the task to his assistant. And he would…as soon as the lovely, shockingly sexy Rachel arrived. Which would be in…he looked at his watch and sighed…two days, four hours, and sixteen minutes.
“I heard that Rachel is coming back to take care of this mess,” Galen continued, slouching into one of the leather chairs in front of Tarin’s desk.
Tarin turned away, frustrated beyond measure. “Right. I just got off the phone with Talia.”
“So, when is Rachel arriving?”
Tarin had the sudden urge to punch his older brother. Not for any valid reason. Just because he couldn’t handle the almost unrelenting desire that he’d be forced to endure as soon as Rachel arrived. “I don’t know,” he lied.
Gaelen chuckled, and once again, Tarin ignored him.
His brother slapped his knees as if he’d just had a brilliant idea. “Well, hang in there. Rachel will get here soon and she’ll fix all of this stuff, organize it into a well-oiled project machine.”
With that, Gaelen pushed out of the chair and walked out of Tarin’s office.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered.
“What the hell are you afraid of?”
Tarin leaned his head back in frustration as Amit, his oldest brother, walked in. “What do you want?” he demanded with absolutely no respect for his brother, despite him being the Sheik of their fair country.
Amit chuckled and Tarin turned to find his brother leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “I heard that Rachel was coming back. Any word on when she’ll arrive?”
Once again, Tarin had to restrain the urge to swing. Physical release might be exactly what he needed right now. But Amit didn’t deserve it, and besides, there was only a fifty percent chance that Tarin’s fist would connect.
“I have no idea. I just got off the phone with Talia. Rachel will need an apartment, arrange to have all of her furniture moved back here, pack up her house, and…”
“She shouldn’t have to worry about all that. Just put her in one of the executive apartments. That’s why we have them, after all. They are fully furnished, two bedroom apartments. Rachel would just need to pack up her clothes and she could be here tonight.”
Tarin glared at Amit, but his older brother only smiled. Amit didn’t used to be this happy. He used to be the grump of the family. That was before Harper, his wife and the mother of his two children, arrived and told the ass to get over himself.
“That’s a good idea,” he grumbled, but didn’t pick up the phone to make the call. The longer he could delay Rachel’s arrival, the better. He needed time to mentally prepare.
Apparently, Amit wasn’t going to give him that time, the bastard! “I’ll have Rashid
