Page 26 of Prince of Her Heart
Very interesting.
She sauntered to the counter and ordered a small coffee, glancing over her shoulder at him with a coy smile while the barista worked behind her.Ramzi considered signaling to his security team, who sat scattered around the café.But no—he wanted to see what she’d do.This woman had gone to too much effort to change her look.Let her deliver whatever message she’d rehearsed.
Sure enough, she moved closer to his table, her hips swaying with practiced “charm”.“Hey there,” she said with a sugary tone, coffee cup in one hand, the other twirling a strand of hair.“May I join you?”
He didn’t answer before she slid into the seat across from him.Her hand nudged the latte he’d ordered for Tabitha, nearly knocking it off the table.She leaned forward, cleavage pushed high, desperation radiating from her pores.
“I’m Leandra.”
Ramzi said nothing.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” she purred.
Still nothing.
“You know, Tabitha isn’t really… your type.”Her voice dropped into a breathy murmur.“She doesn’t know how to meet your needs.”Her lashes fluttered in a practiced pantomime of seduction.“I could satisfy you so much better.”
He simply stared, unmoved.Her cheap makeup, too-tight clothes, and false confidence were almost painful to witness.
She leaned closer.“I think she’s a virgin,” she whispered dramatically.“She wouldn’t know how to really get your engines going.”
Ramzi rolled his eyes.“You need to leave.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her coy smile stiffening as his rebuke slowly sunk into her brain.Then she blinked.“Wait—what?”
“I’m not interested.”
There was a beat of stunned silence before she rallied, that fake smile coming back, brighter now.“You just don’t know how fun I can be.Why don’t we—”
“No.”His patience vanished.He leaned in, his voice sharp.“Honey, you sound like a cheap hooker trying to get fifty bucks out of a ‘John’.I don’t think that’s what you’re aiming for, so maybe try a different script.”
Her face paled, her makeup turning chalky.
He didn’t stop.“If I hear you say one more word against Tabitha or her family, I will personally ruin your world.”His voice dropped lower.“And believe me, I won’t even have to try.”
“But—”
“Out,” he snapped, flicking his fingers in dismissal.
She froze, then gave a snort of fury and stood abruptly.Her chair screeched.She left the coffee behind and stalked toward the door, walking with far more ease than any pregnant woman he’d ever known.From what he’d seen, the first trimester came with exhaustion and nausea, and by the second, the women in his family guarded their baby bumps like a priceless treasure.By five months in, there was no hiding it—nor moving with that kind of speed.
Her act had been a poor one.
So, what game was Leandra playing?
Besides the obvious attempt to steal him from Tabitha—just like she’d stolen that sorry excuse for an ex-fiancé…Marvin?Martin?Whatever.
Speak of the devil.
The coffee shop door slammed open, the little brass bell above it clanging with the force of it.In stomped Martin, his scuffed shoes squeaking slightly against the polished floor.His jaw was clenched, face blotchy with fury and something less definable—shame, perhaps.
Well, this should be entertaining, Ramzi thought, casually lifting his coffee for another sip.
“You’re not good enough for her!”Martin burst out, his voice carrying through the café like a slap.
Ramzi didn’t respond.Just raised an eyebrow, calm as stone.The scent of roasted beans mingled with cinnamon rolls and tension.Martin puffed up like a toad, taking a step closer.
“Did you hear me?”he snapped, face flushing a deeper red.“You’re not good enough for Tabitha!She’s…she’s smart and kind and decent!”
