After a lush and delicious breakfast, Alex felt once again that her stay in Kattahar could become the work-vacation she’d never planned on. Zatar seemed to be firmly in her corner, despite the initial kidnapping confusion. She’d seen him bark at those guards in Arabic, showcasing a ferocity that, embarrassingly, made her panties damp.

And now they were on their way to her new bedroom, in a better wing and just down the hall from Zatar’s bedroom. An attendant followed dutifully behind, carrying her luggage. She couldn’t help but feel a prickle of anticipation. Maybe this meant late-night knocks, the suggestion implied by the lift of an eyebrow, the heated whispers that happened after midnight.

She tried to tamp down the fantasies, but it was impossible. Even though it felt wrong to think these things about Zatar, she was so intensely curious about what his penis looked like it might plague her for the rest of her life.

The man was gorgeous. There was no way around it.

As they crossed the domed hallway marking the center of the palace, one of the harem girls slunk out of hiding. The girls seemed to have tunnels through the place. Maybe that was another vestige of Zatar’s father’s preferences.

The girl trotted up to Zatar, reaching for his bicep, cutting off the attendant mid-stride and making him stumble. The look on her face was unmistakable; she wanted one thing—Zatar. He snatched his hand away, sending sharp words in Arabic her way. The girl’s face contorted into a scowl.

“And why do you prefer her?” The girl jutted her perfectly manicured fingers toward Alex as they walked away. “Look at her hair, her flat chest. So ugly.”

Before Alex could even be offended, Zatar whipped around and stormed back toward the harem girl. He scolded her so harshly that Alex didn’t need to know Arabic to know it was bad. The attendant watched, eyes slightly widened. The girl ran off afterward, and Zatar joined her again, his face troubled.

“I’m sorry for that.” He led the way to a side hallway, much wider and more opulent than where she’d been staying previously. Latticed metal lanterns hung from the walls. Spiral metal stands dotted the hall, from which thick towers of unlit candles rose, the wax crystallized in its melted descent. “They are so catty, and I have so little patience for them.”

“Who was that Zatar?”

“Her name is Malika. Another one who has an interest in me.”

Alex could understand it partially, at least. It was hard for any sighted woman with a sex drive to not have an interest in Zatar. As the prince to an entire country, he probably had a fan following the size of a boy band’s. And if he had so much access to easy sex with women who adored him…

She swallowed back a sick knot. Why did she care? She didn’t. He was just a pretty boy with a soft spot for lions, like her. A kindred spirit of sorts. One with incredibly captivating eyes.

“Here’s your room.” His husky voice brought her back to reality at the same moment she caught a whiff of his scent. Damn this man. Maybe if she stayed here long enough, she’d turn into one of those raving harem girls as well, desperate for any brush with the gorgeous prince.

He swept open an arched wooden door inlaid with golden accents. She gasped when the room came into view. Dark and light indigo tiles stretched across the room, topped off with a Persian rug that would probably fill her entire apartment in Paris. The wall behind a four-poster king-size bed showcased a mosaic made of probably every precious stone in the galaxy. Water burbled from somewhere; she suddenly realized this room might very well have its own waterfall.

“Um,” she started, but couldn’t find the words to follow.

“We can set your things here.” Zatar gestured to a living area hidden behind an elegantly curved wall. Plush cushions dotted the floor around a thick rug. A hookah sat off to the side of the sitting area, waiting for its next guests. The attendant set her things down next to a chaise longue and then excused himself. Alex nodded, taking it all in.

“Looks pretty great.” Like that even covered it. Now her forced vacation was really beginning.

“I’m glad you approve. My room is two doors down.” He gestured, but all she could think about was that this was the third time he’d mentioned that. Maybe he was eager for her to come see his room. Maybe she was eager to go see his room. “Lunch will be delivered directly to your room. And remember, please knock if you need anything.” He paused, his hazel eyes sparking small fires through her body. “Anything at all.”

He excused himself, leaving her in a pleasant silence in the bedroom. She wandered around the expansive suite in a daze, each new detail and adornment making her jaw drop further. People actually live like this? And to think this was his guest room. Her guest room in Paris consisted of a pull-out couch in her dining room, which butted up against the wall of the kitchen. Guests often left her apartment smelling like onions. But here…

She fingered the heavy turquoise curtains, rubbing a golden tassel between her fingers. She hadn’t imagined the palace might have different levels of luxury when it came to housing guests. No way she’d walk out of this room smelling like last night’s dinner.

Alex peeked into the bathroom and gasped. Jacuzzi tub. Glass-paneled shower. Even a tiny infinity pool that butted up against a window looking into a floor to ceiling aquarium. She went up to the glass pane, tilting her head to look around the cerulean waters. A bright orange fish darted past.

If this was the stuff of Zatar’s childhood, she could only imagine how that might have colored his upbringing. Even so, under his overbearing princely façade, she’d glimpsed a kind heart. Despite all the glamor and wealth, something about him felt…familiar.

She hummed as she washed her hands with an exotic pebbled soap. It smelled like heaven. She readjusted her ponytail under the bright globe lamps lining the mirror, feeling a little plain in such luxury.

But oh well. Zatar either liked what he saw, or he didn’t. Her eyes widened in the mirror. But she didn’t actually care what he thought, so it didn’t matter. Even though she was desperate to see what he looked like under that flowing white robe, it was simply biology. The unavoidable hormones of their species’ drive to mate. She cleared her throat, tugging her shirt down, unbuttoning one extra button on the polo shirt.

And god, she wanted to mate with Zatar.

With one last look in the mirror, she turned and strutted out of the bathroom. Maybe a visit to his room was in order after lunch. Just to see what it looked like.

Just to see what might come of it.

Zatar puttered around in his bedroom without any real purpose. Lunch had come and gone, and still he lingered. He wanted to remain near Alex, just in case she should come calling for him. But part of him sensed her independence and knew that she had more than enough to keep her entertained.

Still, it seemed wrong to return to her room and ask to…hang out. Somehow that casualness existed beyond the scope of their strange circumstances. She was part employee, part guest, part intoxicating temptation that grew stronger by the second.

Zatar swiped through his phone choosing a downtempo mix. The low tones thrummed through the surround-sound speakers hidden cleverly throughout the room. Just as he readied a spot for himself among the throw pillows, a knock sounded. He squinted at the door. Unless maybe he was imagining the noise in the chorus of the music.

Knock knock.

He hurried to the door. It groaned heavily as he swung it open. Alex stared back at him, looking uncertain.

Relief flooded him. “Alex.” He paused as he glimpsed motion over her shoulder. In the distance, he spotted a flowing gold robe. His voice dried up as he watched the person come nearer down the hallway, head bowed. His father. The king. He inhaled sharply, grabbing Alex’s wrist and yanking her inside.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She searched his face for an answer, but he shoved the door shut, heart racing. His father couldn’t know Alex was here or that she was in any way connected to the zoo. His father was around so infrequently, hiding her wouldn’t be an issue. But he hadn’t expected him so soon.

“You must be quiet. My father is here unexpectedly.” He guided her toward the back of his room, where a walk-in closet curled around the depths of the palace. “Just stay here for me, please. Don’t make a sound. I don’t want him knowing you’re here.”

“But—” she began, but clamped her mouth shut when a forceful knock sounded on the door.

“I’ll explain soon,” he whispered and then darted off to answer the door. He pulled at the heavy door just as one more knock thudded. On the other side, his heavyset and recently bearded father stared disapprovingly.

“About time.” King Patar brushed past Zatar and strolled into his room, his golden robe kicking up behind him. “You have a greater lag time than the servants.”

Zatar tamped down his frustration. His father had always been impatient and demanding, but since his mother’s death it seemed his father now believed that he could walk over everyone who stood in his way.

“You’re back.” Zatar didn’t bother trying to inject friendliness into his tone. “I thought you’d be in Monaco for a while.”

“The slots are rigged.” His father slumped into a chaise longue facing the open balcony doors. “And those card games are unfair. I can’t stand playing with cheaters.”

His father’s moral rigor most likely only stemmed from the fact that he’d lost millions of dollars. That’s usually how it went, at least. But he almost never came to chitchat. He had to have an ulterior motive.

“What do you want?”

Patar harrumphed as he arranged a pillow beneath his lower back. “I’ve heard that there is a foreign woman in my house.”

Zatar crossed his arms, keeping his face neutral. A visiting veterinarian wouldn’t be tolerated. His father detested the zoo and had threatened for the past six months to remove the expense from the palace budget. But the money wasn’t an issue. Zatar figured it was the link to his mother’s memory.

But a fleeting love interest? His father would condone that. As long as he omitted the whole American part. “Foreign? Of course not. Just something to pass the time.”

He hated speaking to his father about women, especially because he had to copy his style. Now that his mother was gone, women were strictly objects of enjoyment. Most days, Zatar wondered if his mother had ever been anything more than a well decorated accessory to Patar. Maybe his father had kept up this behavior in secret, with a bevy if women on the side. His mother’s death had cast everything Zatar thought he knew into doubt. Nothing was solid or straightforward anymore.

“You have a whole circus of things to pass the time,” Patar said, sending him a pointed look. “That harem is partly for you, my boy. All purebred, too.”

Zatar shook his head, turning away to hide the disgust on his face. Sharing women with his father was not his idea of normal. “I’m not fond of any of them.”

“You don’t need to be fond of them to have fun.”

Zatar clenched a fist behind his back. Of course this would come up with Alex in hearing range. Now she’d know the full extent of the palace absurdities.

“Besides,” the king went on, “You’ll marry one of them soon. I won’t live forever, you know. Your future needs to be secured. You need an heir. You need a wife and son.”

Zatar cleared his throat, curling his toes into the plush rug near his bed. “I understand.”

“So pick one.” The king waved his hand dismissively. “Or I can pick for you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Ilia is crazy for you.” The king shifted in his chair, turning slightly to look back at Zatar. “And she won’t disappoint, either. She’s skilled in…all the important things.” He gave a gruff laugh. “And these are most important for the long run, my boy.”

Zatar pressed a finger to the space between his eyes. “Father—”

“Or Malika,” the king went on. “She sort of just lies there, but she’d be a doting wife.”

Zatar wilted on the inside. He had plenty to explain to Alex once his father left. “I appreciate the recommendation, but—”

“You must choose soon. I demand it.” The king popped to his feet. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, though.” He pressed a hand to Zatar’s shoulder, a sickening grin covering his face. A golden molar glinted in the back of his smile. “I’m just looking out for you.”

The king patted Zatar’s cheek and then sauntered out of the room. Zatar pushed the door shut and then hurried to the closet, brushing aside the curtain with a grimace.

Alex stared back at him, her eyes wide as saucers.