Bad Teacher

“Her name is Maya, and she’s not made me do anything. This was all my choice. Leave her out of it,” Amir growls. “And for your information, she was hired to design my clothes.”

“A commoner? You’re hanging out with a commoner?”

“She’s not a commoner. She’s American,” Amir replies.

The guards accompanying the king seem on edge. “So? That only gives me more reasons to put her on a plane and send her back to wherever she came from.”

Uh-oh. This is going downhill fast. Should I do something? But what?

“You can’t just do whatever you please. You’re a prince of the royal family. Our reputation is on the line. You have duties. Rules to follow.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” I suddenly say, trying to push past Amir with my wheelchair. “It was not my intention to steal him away from the palace.”

“Don’t say a word, Maya,” Amir interrupts.

“Indeed,” his father says, snorting. “I didn’t ask you for your opinion, girl.”

“I am only here to fulfill my job, and that’s it. I won’t take up any more of your son’s time, I promise,” I continue.

Amir turns around and grabs my arms. “Stop. For both our sakes. Please.”

The way he says the word “please” almost has me on my knees.

If I wasn’t in this damn wheelchair.

Instead, I nod. I wish I could do more. He doesn’t deserve this.

Amir turns toward his father again. “It’s not her fault. I’m taking full responsibility.”

“About time,” his father says, turning around as he flicks his fingers. “Come. Time to go back to the palace where you belong.”

Amir follows behind him, glancing at me over his shoulder with a smile. But as he leaves with his father, I realize I might not see him again. Ever.

Chapter 9

Maya

The wound in my leg healed within a day, so I’m back at work again. However, the lecture I got from Mrs. Adallah wasn’t so pretty. Apparently, the king had spoken to her, expressing his distrust of me. He almost fired me on the spot, but Mrs. Adallah put in a good word for me, so luckily, I got to keep my job.

But it’s not without caveats. I’m not supposed to talk to the prince anymore. At least, not unless it’s business related. So I can make his clothes and show them to him, but that’s it. I have to keep my mouth shut otherwise.

I guess I should be happy they’re not sending me home. This is a big opportunity, and I don’t want to ruin it. So I’ll keep my head down from now on and focus on my work. No matter how hot he is or how delicious his kisses are, I have to stop thinking about him.

Too bad the moment I step into my workshop, I’m greeted by a gigantic bouquet.

And a whole stack of fabrics.

What the …?

Confused, I place my bag on the table and smell the lovely flowers. Tucked within is a card with gold letters engraved onto it.

Please forgive me for stealing your time yesterday. I hope the fabrics and flowers please you.

Amir

Please you. I can’t stop reading those two words. And I can’t stop the dirty images from appearing in my mind along with it too.

Crap.

I shake my head. I really have to stop doing this. And he needs to stop being so charming.

I give the flowers some water and then go through all the fabrics he bought for me. They’re from that shop in the middle of town where we saw each other. He really did honor his promise.

Smiling, I pick up the ones I love the most and check them out. Bright purples, some with reds, a lot of white and black. Soft and velvety. Oh, yes … I can definitely work with these.

Days later

When I arrive at the palace, I go through the screening process and then go straight to Amir’s room. The guards have already been alerted because they immediately let me in his room. Not without a stern look, of course, but I ignore it.

The room’s empty. Well, except for all the luxurious furniture, lavish closets, carpets, drapery, and other things that belong to a prince.

But he’s not here. Is he coming later, or did he forget?

Not that it matters. If he’s not here, I can always show Mrs. Adallah the clothes I’ve created. Even though I’d much rather have him wear them first. I need to know if they fit. But maybe he’ll be here later.

I place the big bag I brought on his desk and start unpacking, keeping the clothes neatly folded so they don’t crinkle. I match the items and place them side by side, wondering what he’ll think.

“Beautiful.”

His sudden voice makes me squeal and jolt up and down. When I turn around, I immediately regret it. He’s right in front of me … and only wearing a pair of tight swim trunks.