His Royal Prize. Debbi Rawlins

had the misfortune of—” Shay said at the same time, “meeting this impudent—”

      “Enough.”

      Everyone turned at the sound of a man’s commanding voice. But not before Shay slid her a cool look. And she sent him a resentful one back.

      “Good morning, Zak.” Rose smiled broadly. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

      “I have already eaten.” His gaze stayed glued on Shay. “Nearly three hours ago.”

      “I see.” Rose shot a nervous glance at her son, whose sullen expression hadn’t changed. “Then have some coffee with us, won’t you?”

      Livy vaguely knew that was her cue to pour the man a cup, but she was too fascinated by him. He had to be a king or sheikh. Although he wore regular clothes, he was tall and broad and very dark and mysterious looking. It was easy to picture him on a throne inside a grand palace just like in the fairy tales. If she hadn’t seen the kindness in his eyes she might even have been afraid.

      Instead of embarrassed. After all, these people were guests. Royalty, in fact. And she was the hired help.

      “Livy?” Rose placed a gentle hand on her arm, and Livy jumped. “This is King Zakariyya Al Farid of Balahar, Sharif’s father. Zak, this is Olivia Smith.”

      Maybe she was supposed to curtsy or something. Unsure, she dragged her palm down the front of her jeans, then stuck out her hand.

      He accepted it, amusement twinkling in his eyes, but instead of a handshake, he brought the back of her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I am enchanted to meet you.”

      Livy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. For a moment she felt so grown-up and important and horribly giddy. What the heck was she supposed to say now? She glanced at Rose for a clue. Nothing. Her gaze automatically went to Shay. He had an odd gleam in his eyes. He almost looked angry.

      She swallowed and shuffled. “Me, too,” she finally mumbled as she freed her hand. “Uh, do you want coffee?”

      King Zak nodded and, ignoring the place setting opposite Rose, he pulled out the chair beside her. To Livy’s surprise, a faint pink spread across the older woman’s cheeks. Livy quickly looked at Shay. He’d noticed, too. He didn’t look pleased.

      Livy scooted around the table and got the cup and saucer, then filled it for King Zak. As she set it before him, she felt the weight of Shay’s stare, and she cautiously looked his way.

      His gaze moved down her body, lingering on her breasts, before rising to lock with hers. Was he thinking about their kiss, about the way he’d touched her? Had he thought about her at all last night? The same squishy feeling that had made a fool out of her yesterday threatened her balance. She quickly looked away…to find Rose and King Zak watching her with interest.

      “I’ll go see how the food is coming. Anybody need anything else?” Her unnaturally high voice made her spitting mad, but she forced a smile.

      “I don’t think so.” Rose looked questioningly at King Zak, who shook his head.

      Shay picked up his water glass and napkin and held them up to Livy. “You do intend to replace these.”

      It wasn’t a question. More of a command, and Livy had a good mind to tell him what he could do with the glass. Sideways. “Of course,” she said politely, and fumed all the way back to the kitchen.

      To think she’d wasted a precious night’s sleep on that jackass, she thought as she pitched the damp napkin and filled a fresh glass with the special bottled water Ella must have bought for the visitors. Although why anyone wouldn’t want the best-tasting well water in all of Texas from out back was beyond Livy’s understanding. Of course nothing seemed good enough for Shay. Especially not her.

      “Anything wrong?” Vi asked.

      She was so self-absorbed, Livy had almost forgotten Ella and Vi were in the kitchen. “Not a thing. Be right back.”

      She hurried away before she started either cussing or sniveling and opened the door with her hip, then marched into the dining room, the water in one hand, the coffeepot in the other.

      Shay turned at the sound of her footfalls. “Ah, there is the girl now.” He frowned at her loaded hands, then lifted one eyebrow. “The sugar?”

      “Oh, silly me. How could I have forgotten?” She set the coffeepot on the corner of the table, lifted the clean napkin she had draped over her arm and laid it across Shay’s lap. That he jumped slightly pleased her enormously.

      When he glanced menacingly at her, she pursed her lips. “You know what, Shay? You may be a hotshot in your country, but you really don’t know beans about women.”

      His stunned look was worth her humiliation. She started to leave, careful not to make eye contact with King Zak or Rose. “Oh, I almost forgot your water,” she said, as she turned back to Shay and poured it over his head.