Alex hummed as she dried off with a velvety soft towel. Hell, it was too big to be a towel. It was practically a bedspread. She smiled at herself in the mirror, the bathroom glittering behind her in the reflection. She’d never had such fun in a bathroom…or anticipated a dinner so much. This was like going on a date, but a thousand times better because Zatar was a prince, the food was gourmet, and this whole entire palace.

She drifted through her new room, practicing purposeful strides as if she owned she place. Then she did some Beauty and the Beast-style ballroom dance steps. She did feel a bit like Belle. Zatar was her Middle Eastern Beast, inasmuch as he was a bit beastly in the beginning but now, definitely, absolutely, becoming every part the prince.

Three curt knocks sounded on her door. She perked up, practically running to the door. She pulled it open without thinking it could be anyone other than Zatar. Her face fell when she saw the bland expression of a palace guard.

“Um,” she knotted her towel tighter around her, “Yes?”

“Your presence is requested in the library, madam.”

She nodded, fighting a grin. Zatar must be ready for her. She’d have to dress quickly. “Sure. Thanks. Uh…thanks.” She wasn’t sure how to dismiss people in this country or in their language, so she just awkwardly shut the door, and looked around her room with butterflies swarming her belly.

Maybe she was too excited for this. After all, Zatar was just…a spoiled man-prince with all sorts of women at his disposal. Her former perspective failed to take flight this time. She rummaged through her luggage, plucking out the last clean pair of underwear she had. That was what she needed to bring up with Zatar: laundry. Did he even know how to do it himself? Maybe she could teach him. That would be fun. And quaint.

She hurriedly pulled on a new pair of shorts and a flowy, off the shoulder top. It wasn’t quite up to Belle’s standard, but it was all she had to work with. She ran a hand through her hair as she let herself out of the bedroom. The same guard from before waited for her, his back straight and his face stoic.

“Oh. There you are.” She cleared her throat, hugging her arms around herself even though she wasn’t cold.

“Follow me.” The guard clomped off down the hallway, and as he led her deeper into the palace through previously forbidden territory, a little ping of nervousness sounded inside her.

She wasn’t sure what was off. It didn’t seem like Zatar would send a guard when his own bedroom was just two doors down, but then again, she didn’t really know what was normal and what wasn’t around here. She took in all the opulent sights as she followed her guide: rich mauve carpets with golden tassels, marble side tables with potted ferns on top, greenery spilling over the sides and all the way down to the floor. That’s what she liked about this place; it looked and smelled fresh. Even in the arid climes.

The guard pushed open a set of double doors and gestured for her to pass through. Alex stepped inside the enormous library, gasping softy as she took in the two-story tall wall of books to her left. A ladder on rollers was propped against the bookshelves. It was way too tall for her to ever consider climbing. That’s what the servants are for, I guess.

“Hello.”

A thickly accented voice startled her. She turned, finding a pudgy, gruff man in a flowing white robe approaching from a cluster of sofas. She blinked, knowing immediately who this must be. The king.

“Hi.” She swallowed a burst of anxiety and tucked her hair behind her ears. “You must be…”

“King Patar.” He didn’t offer his hand or even fake a smile. His dark eyes seared through her as he spat, “What do you think you’re doing here with my son?”

His tone was so fierce she wasn’t sure how to respond at first. A million retorts and justifications sprang to life and then withered under the man’s fierce stare. “Uh…I…I was called here.”

The king’s sneer was worthy of a drama award. “For what?”

“The…the…Sala.” She tried to recover her cool, but the man’s power and his displeasure made it hard to think straight.

“Who on earth is Sala?”

She blinked rapidly. Now this really didn’t make sense. “The lioness, sir. Um, your highness.” While she watched him meekly, the truth hit her. He was so disconnected from this place, from his son, he had no idea who his beloved pet was.

The king scoffed. “Oh, that’s right. I should have had that zoo closed years ago.” He narrowed his eyes. “So what are you, some sort of helper?”

“A veterinarian. Sala is sick so I—”

“Enough. I don’t actually care.” The king waved his hand in the air, stunning her into silence. Zatar’s father was so much worse than she’d thought. “You need to leave.”

She searched his face for understanding. “The library? Or—”

“The palace. My home. You were never welcome here, and now that I’ve discovered you here, you must go. We do not tolerate foreigners, much less from your part of the world. Furthermore, I know exactly what you seek. My son attracts gold diggers from all parts of the world. But you needn’t open your legs for him. Don’t spoil his purity with your disgusting lack of morals and breeding.”

Alex’s mouth fell open in shock. There was no way he’d actually said that to her…it would have been laughable, if he wasn’t also kicking her out. Before she could even sputter a response, the king called for the guards.

“Take her away.” The king flicked his hand toward the door, turning away from her without even a second glance. The guard who’d accompanied her grabbed her arm, dragging her out of the library.

“Stop it. Let me go.” She yanked her arm out of his grip with an exasperated huff. “I’m not going to run. Christ. Just let me walk without feeling like a convict.”

The guard eyed her as they walked back to her bedroom. With each step, more tears and frustration built inside her. This was ridiculous. This whole visit had been fucked from the start. And now she was being banned from an entire country simply because the king was xenophobic and a misogynist. Fucking awesome.

“Okay. I’m fine. You can go now.” She tried to shoo the guard away when they reached her room, but he insisted on standing outside her door. When she tried to shut the door, he placed his hand against the dark wood, stilling it.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” She was at her wit’s end. All of the carefree sexiness of the afternoon had completely evaporated under the unwelcome glare of the king and his guards. Just as she was about to throw her hands up and burst into tears on the spot, Zatar’s voice pierced the air.

She didn’t know what he said, only that he sounded angry and was shouting Arabic. Outside her door, he and the guard exchanged words. A lot of words. Zatar gestured angrily behind him, stated something with deep confidence and command. If she were the guard, she’d be more quailed by that firm, steady voice than the earlier shouting.

Alex sank onto the bed, watching the exchange, desperate to get clued in. The guard turned, and then Zatar stormed inside her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

When he turned to face her, there was fire in his eyes. “Well, the guards won’t be a problem anymore. And I just got rid of the harem too.”

Alex looked small and scared on the bed. He rushed to her, his anger diminishing next to the urge to wipe that look off her face. Make her feel better. Make her feel welcome.

“Alex—” he began.

“Don’t.” She held up a hand, shaking her head. Her voice trembled. “Your father made things really clear. I should go.”

His throat tightened, and he took a moment before speaking again. The guard had told him that the king had ordered Alex gone. The guard had also told him the king was soon to be en route to Monaco once more—giving Zatar his chance to care for the country properly. Alex wasn’t going anywhere, and Zatar didn’t give a fuck what his father thought about it.

“I can only imagine what my father said to you,” he said, hoping at least that the man’s words hadn’t been too hurtful, “But I want you to know that he is the only one who thinks the way he does.”

She sighed wearily. “It doesn’t matter, really. I’m just going to cause trouble if I stay here. I helped Sala, so my work here is done. I’ll check on her again before I leave, but I really should go.”

“No.” The word came out more forcefully than he’d intended. He was surprised by his conviction. This went beyond Sala now. He wanted her to stay for purely selfish reasons. Reasons he wasn’t sure he should admit to. “I promise my father is not an issue. He’s leaving the country as we speak. He’ll be gone for…a long time, I hope. A few more days at least, and he left me in charge while he’s gone. He only meant it as a threat, but I intend to use this time wisely.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll take care of this, Alex.” He eased onto the bed beside her, taking her hands in his. “Let’s enjoy the next few days free of him.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the scent of her washing over him, calming him. No, he didn’t want her to leave, not now, not in a few days, and possibly not ever. He told himself it was ridiculous to feel this way after so little time. But it didn’t matter. He just wanted to have her with him, for as long as possible.

“He basically insinuated that I was scum for being American,” she said in a low voice a moment later.

Zatar sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course his father would have said that. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to even hear the sound of his voice. If it makes you feel better, he dislikes basically anyone not from this region. It’s not just Americans.”

“Yeah, makes me feel great.” She sent him a wry half smile. "

Zatar pressed another kiss to her forehead, and then grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Brushing his nose against hers, he inhaled her scent before coaxing a soft, sweet kiss from her lips.

She grinned a little in response, but he could still sense the tension in her. He placed small kisses over her cheeks, then brought his mouth back to meet hers.

With his lips hovering just above her mouth, he said, “So. Let me make everything better.”