Page 12 of Prince of Her Heart
She couldn’t pull that off.Not withhim.He was too tall, too confident, too… devastatingly male.
TooRamzi.
Plus, he was her boss!
Yes, she’d dreamed of all those things.Almost every night.
And okay, maybe they didn’t have atypicalboss-subordinate relationship.She’d laughed at him for fumbling with chopsticks during late-night takeout marathons, and he’d teased her mercilessly about her hatred of driving stick shift.That wasn’t exactly standard office behavior.
She’d once accompanied him to his tailor’s to select fabric for a tuxedo and walked out with three evening gowns becauseheinsisted she was too conservative in her wardrobe.He’d claimed gala nights required “strategic elegance,” and from that moment forward, had declared himself responsible for her eveningwear.
Butthis?
This would be different.Verydifferent.
“No,” she said, shaking her head firmly as she set the glass back down.
“No?”he echoed, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.
She glanced at him, then quickly away.“No.You don’t need to do that.I can head to Hendersonville Saturday morning, attend the wedding, hug Stacy and John, and be back by nightfall.”She picked up the glass and took another sip of scotch, once again letting the smoky heat fortify her nerves.“I’ll be fine.Let the gossips say what they want.”She stood and smiled, polished and professional.“I don’t have to face them.Their opinions don’t matter.”
She turned to leave.
But his next words stopped her cold.
“What about your mother?”
Her steps faltered.Slowly, she turned back to face him.
Ramzi hadn’t moved, but something in his posture had shifted.She sensed tension radiating from him now—tight, deliberate.His voice, when it came, was soft.Too soft.
“Apparently, she’s endured years of slander about your supposed heartbreak.”
The words struck her like a stone to the chest.Her hand pressed instinctively to her sternum.
“Are you going to leave her to deal with the gossip alone again?”
Ramzi stood now, towering over her.“Why not help her out?It’s just four days.”He stepped forward, handing her the documents she’d forgotten on the table.“What’s the problem?”
The problem?
Theproblemwas that she was already halfway in love with him.That pretending to be Ramzi’s partner would wreck her.That she spent far too many nights imagining ways to ride him like a bronco, and four days in his orbit would finish her completely.
“She’s a strong woman,” Tabitha whispered, trying to deflect.
“Yes,” he murmured, stepping closer again.“She’sverystrong.I wonder how many snide comments she’s had to ignore over the years.”
Ouch.
He went for the jugular.
Ramzi El Sandir knew how to win—whether in the boardroom or in battle.And he knew how to wound, too.
“That’s not fair,” she said quietly.
He shrugged, unapologetic.“Neither are the gossips.”
With a smooth movement, he tossed back the rest of his scotch and returned the empty glass to the bar.
