Page 4 of The Desert Prince's Jewel
I glance at my bodyguards, who risk life and limb, and are now branded as traitors, and decide they deserve the best. Besides, I want enough space between the walls so I can’t hear Kunal moaning and begging for more while Rohan grunts and pledges eternal fidelity all through the night. My younger self was traumatized to find them tangled in passion the first time. Now, I’m just annoyed by their near-nightly antics.
They’re five years my senior, but somehow have ten times the stamina between their four cocks.
I can’t help the tug of a smile on my lips, but I settle for a smirk as I hold Layla at arm’s length. Then, I grasp one of her hands to give it a firm shake.
“I say we have a deal.”
***
“How do I look?” I ask my loyal servants the next morning, hoping to hear anything but the truth.
Rohan and Kunal’s tight smiles are all the confirmation I need to know I look fucking ridiculous! I am well and truly screwed, and not in particularly pleasurable ways.
Of all the jobs I could’ve been assigned, I became a security guard, and my bodyguards joined me. While I’ll be working the night shift, I wanted to at least try on the uniform after waking up in my Spartan accommodations. I should’ve known human luxury couldn’t compare to, well, royalty. Call me spoiled, but a man can only work off of what they know.
I disappear into my hotel room’s bathroom, strip, and put on a light-fitting green tunic and pants set instead, rubbing my temples. I’ll save the costume and ritual humiliation for when I clock in.
Is that what they call it? Clocking in?
Honestly, I don’t know if time clocks are still a thing or something I’m dredging up, a relic from my teen actor days reading scripts resembling the life of commoners.
Kunal gives Rohan a concerned look before offering, “Sh-Shall we grab some coffee to take the edge off while we plan our next steps, my—I mean, sir?”
I sigh. I guess ‘sir’ is better than my prince. Fed up with the whole uniform ordeal, I nod, not wanting to argue about coming up with a sensible plan right now. Criminals usually lurk around at night, whenwe’reworking. I should’ve asked Layla for more specifics about the gig, but I was too desperate. I overplayed my hand, and she’d seized on that weakness, knowing she could fill that undesirable time block.
Shrewd and crafty. I appreciate any woman with that combination of qualities. I’d have appreciated it more if they hadn’t been used against me.
“Come on, no need to linger around my room. I’m famished. I hope they serve food as well,” I say, motioning towards the door.
We leave, passing their hotel room three doors down. I ended up with a single bed, and they received doubles, much to their dismay. I suppose it was just an extra workout for them and some relief for their neighbors, having to push the beds together when they wanted to screw.
I know accommodations, a steady check, and a strategic base are a fair trade-off for pretending to be security guards, something Rohan and Kunal don’t have to pretend to be. But what if someone in my former circles sees me? I can kiss my chances at the throne goodbye, even if I recover the stone.
So maybe Layla was thinking about my reputation after all, scheduling me for the night shift, I think, though that seems unlikely.
We board the lift, and I greet the lift man with a smile as the gates swing open, silently seething that his elegant uniform is better than mine. He’s tall, dark-haired, stormy-eyed, and handsome too—the audacity of the man to look goodandhave a charming uniform! While I’m usually not a vain man, I can’t wrap my head around that…thingthe hotel calls a security guard’s uniform quite yet. Thar subjects wouldn’t be caught dead guarding the palace inthat!
Stuffing my resentment in the recesses of my mind, we make it outside in no time. I maneuver much less gracefully than I would like to admit, even inside my head, stumbling down the pathway connecting the hotel to this supposedly refreshing cafe.
I’m in desperate need of some caffeine. Jet lag and anxiety are a terrible combination when trying to investigate an international criminal or crime ring whilealsosoon balancing a ten-to-six am night shift. There is only so much I can do fueled by fury alone.
When I step into the cafe, I’m not expecting to be blindsided by a barista so beautiful that I stop in my tracks, feeling Kunal bump into my back with a hiss and Rohan into his. And despitethe human being a man, heisgorgeous, absolutely lovely, so much so that I gasp.
He has high cheekbones and pouty lips like a model. His skin is so radiant that he seems to glow, a dark ochre brown with reddish undertones. His coily black hair is pulled into a high ponytail, the sides shaved. His right ear is pierced with a gold hoop, and when he grins, his smile is a gut punch. The barista is tall, too, broad-shouldered, but on the thinner side, which makes me frown.
His ass would be even more amazing to grip if he had some more meat on his bones when I… When I what? What the hell am I thinking!?
An equally tall, refined woman with similar bronze skin, her black braids styled in a goddess crown, whispers to the man, “Do you think you can balance being a manager at Cafe Magnifique and part-time at the Metropolitan Museum? I don’t know, it just seems to be too much to handle, and you just became a co-manager—”
“I don’t have a choice, Sheena,” the barista whispers back, cutting her off. My heightened sense of hearing allows me to eavesdrop when I had no intention of doing so when I walk in the door. “And besides, I’ve worked odd jobs before while maintaining my hours here. Have I ever let you, Layla, or my fellow baristas down?”
“Get a move on it, man!” a deep voice bellows behind me.
I must look downright feral when I whip around, for the tall, brawny man cowers, face bright pink. He backs away apologetically, as if I wasn’t the one in the wrong. And then, my guards rip him away and nearly toss him aside.
Shit, we are making a scene! That is the exact opposite of lying low and investigating.
“My apologies,” I grit out, trying to remember my manners. But that all falls to the wayside when I hear the woman speak again.
