Bad Teacher

I clutch my bag close to my body and bite the inside of my cheek, wondering who’s going to be wearing the clothes I make. If it’s a man or a woman, what their status is, their size … all of it changes what clothes I need to make.

“Is he ready?” Mrs. Adallah asks the guards.

One of them knocks on the door, and yells, “Your visitors have arrived.”

There’s a voice that echoes behind it. “Come in.”

The guards step aside, and Mrs. Adallah opens the door, hesitantly stepping inside. I follow her, but I can’t see a thing other than her back while she speaks up.

“Your Highness? Are you ready?”

Your Highness? What?

I’m stunned, and even though I open my mouth, nothing rolls off my tongue except soft mumbles. I’m going to actually design clothes for a royal?

“It’s time for your appointment with the designer,” Mrs. Adallah says. “She’s here to take your measurements and talk through a couple of ideas.”

She grabs my arm and pulls me forward into the room.

My eyes are immediately drawn toward a man sitting in a giant square bath, naked.

Females around him pour water on him, washing him.

And when he turns his head, all the blood drains from my face.

Amir.

Chapter 4

Amir

The moment our eyes lock, my whole body goes cold, despite the fact I’m in a scorching hot bath. It’s her. The girl from the club. And from the looks of it, she’s noticed it’s me too.

Fuck.

What is she doing here?

One of the women tries to rub my skin with a washcloth, but I push her away. “Not now.”

“Sorry, Your Highness,” she says, backing away.

“Bath time is over,” I tell the women, who immediately leave, still wearing their bikinis. They’ll dress somewhere else, as always.

I wasn’t expecting Mrs. Adallah to come in with company. And that it’d be … Maya.

“Maya?” I mumble, still shocked about seeing her in the flesh.

Her eyes widen, and her face turns strawberry red, so I’m guessing it really is her. Wow. What a coincidence. And here I thought I wouldn’t ever see her again.

“Your Highness?” Mrs. Adallah says, raising her brow. “It’s time for your appointment with the designer, remember?”

“She’s the designer?” I ask, my brows drawing together. When neither of them responds, I burst out into laughter. “Well, isn’t that a coincidence.”

“Do you two … know each other?” Mrs. Adallah asks, her eyes shifting back and forth between me and Maya.

“Oh, yes,” I say, biting my lip, thinking about all the kisses we shared … and the way I banged her against the bathroom counter.

God, I was planning to do so much more to that beautiful girl. I wanted to take her back to my hotel room and lick her entire body before claiming it again and again. Too bad someone recognized me, forcing me to leave before anyone else found out.

When the silence becomes awkward, Mrs. Adallah places a few documents on my desk and smiles. “Well … I’ll leave you two to it then,” Mrs. Adallah says, then she turns around and leaves.

Maya stays put right in front of the door, her body practically frozen to the ground.

I don’t blame her. Discovering the guy you fucked at a local club is the actual prince must be hard to swallow. Not as hard as something else I would’ve made her swallow … if I’d had the chance.

I rub my chin. I might still get that chance after all.

I step out of the floor bathtub, and her eyes immediately follow down toward my V-line, and probably beyond.

“Towel,” she mutters, shutting her eyes.

I look down and laugh. Crap. I completely forgot I’m naked.

I quickly grab a towel, and say, “Sorry.”

“Jesus …” she adds, making me laugh even more.

It’s not like she hasn’t had it inside her before. She just hadn’t seen me yet because I fucked her so fast and immediately zipped up afterward. I smirk. Well, she has now.

With my towel curled around my waist, I dry myself off with another one and then saunter off toward my closet. “It’s safe to look now,” I say, wondering if she’s thinking about my cock.

“Right,” she says sarcastically. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

She sure has sass. “I promise I won’t moon you.”

“But you couldn’t wait to show me your dick,” she scoffs. As if she’s actually mad.

“Hey now,” I say, putting on some underwear and pants. “That was a mistake.”

“Really? You forgot you were naked? In bath? With a bunch of … girls?”

I laugh again. “For the record, those are professional washing ladies.”

She cringes. “TMI, Amir. TMI.”

“What? Jealous?” I raise a brow. Maybe she has thought about me.

Her face scrunches up. “You wish.”

Oh, so feisty. I love it. Still, I get that she may have been offended by what she saw. Finding out the random guy you fucked is a prince, and then discovering him in the tub with his washing ladies probably isn’t a great memory to add to the collection.