Searching For Her Prince Read Free

usually addressed him as “sir” and when he had a guest, they didn’t converse with him at all. But there was always a chance someone would call him by name. He found himself liking the idea of becoming Brent Carpenter more and more. He needed a vacation, not only from the city, but from who he was and what he did and everyone’s expectations of him. From now on when he was with Amira, he would think of himself as Brent.
    As they both sampled their tarts, he asked her, “Have you seen anything of the city?”
    “Nothing but the airport,” she said with a sigh. “During the taxi ride from the airport to the hotel, I had to hold on to the seat in fear for my life, so I haven’t dared take another one. After the warnings the queen gave me about big American cities, I didn’t think it was a good idea to go out alone at night.”
    “Chicago’s a wonderful city, Amira. You should see some of it.”
    “I’m not really here for a vacation.”
    She’d eaten her tart as delicately as any lady, but her beautifully curved upper lip was smudged with a dot of whipped cream. He couldn’t help leaning toward her and sliding his thumb over the spot. Her deep-violet eyes became wider, and her intake ofbreath at his touch told him she was affected by it. He was, too.
    His voice was husky as he explained, “Whipped cream,” and brought his thumb to his own lips and licked the sweet topping.
    They gazed at each other, lost in the moment. The thrum of sexual awareness between them practically filled the room.
    Her cheeks became flushed and her lashes fluttered down as she demurely cast her eyes at what was left of her tart.
    “Amira?” he asked.
    She looked up at him once more.
    “How old are you?”
    “I’m twenty.”
    That’s what he’d suspected. But he’d also guessed she was a very innocent twenty. Not at all like Rhonda. The familiar pain, guilt and blame rushed in with the remembrance of his fiancée. For two years he’d hardly looked at women. For two years he hadn’t wanted the responsibility of a relationship…and he wasn’t contemplating a relationship now, he told himself. Amira would be going back to her island. After next week’s vacation, he’d be returning to mergers and interest rates and building a new hotel in St. Louis. But for the next few days…
    Amira sipped the coffee the waiter had brought with dessert. He’d noticed her load it down with cream and sugar.
    As she returned her cup to the saucer, she couldn’t stifle a yawn. “I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed. “I think I’m still adjusting to the time change.”
    “Nothing to be sorry for. How are you feeling?”
    “Wonderfully satisfied. Everything was delicious.” She took her purse from the table where she’d laid it. “You must let me pay for this.”
    “Nope. It’s my treat. You saved me from another dinner alone.”
    “Do you have dinner alone a lot? Never mind,” she said with a flutter of her hand. “That’s none of my business.”
    Her chagrin was enchanting. She was definitely a proper lady. “For a long while now, I’ve had lots of dinners alone. By choice. I put in a long day and just want peace and quiet in the evening.”
    “What do you do?”
    He didn’t want to lie to her, but he didn’t know what she knew about Marcus Cordello, either. He answered vaguely, “I work in finance.” To forestall her asking any more questions about his work, he laid down his napkin and stood. “I have a meeting in half an hour, but before I leave the hotel, I want to see you safely to your room.”
    “That’s not necessary.”
    “It’s very necessary.” He wanted to make sure her lack of food had been her only problem, and she wasn’t hiding a more serious condition as Rhonda had.
    Amira gave him a smile that made him feel ten feet tall as she acquiesced. “All right. An escort will make me feel as if I’m back home.”
    “You have a bodyguard?”
    “Not as the queen and king do. But when I go out at night