“Thank you.”
“Amazing.”
“What?”
“That ‘thank you.’ Surely that’s a phrase I never thought to hear you say, habibi.”
He was smiling. It wasn’t much of a smile, only a tilt of his lips, but it was so private and sexy that, just for an instant, she wanted to smile back.
She didn’t, of course. All the sexy smiles in his no doubt considerable repertoire wouldn’t be enough to lull her into forgetting who he was and what he wanted.
“I am polite when politeness is appropriate,” she said coolly.
This time, he grinned.
“Nicely done. It takes talent to deliver a remark that sounds polite but is really an insult.” He tugged on her hand. “Sit down.”
“Thank you, but I’m fine.”
“Two thank-yous—only one with real validity. Sit down, please. Is that better?”
What now? If she refused, would he let go of her, or would he force her to take the seat next to his? Finding out might not be worth what it would cost in terms of losing face over such a stupid game.
Rachel shrugged and slipped into the seat nearest to him.
“Good,” he said, and let go of her wrist. “Moira’s bringing us coffee. And something to eat.”
“She’s bringing me coffee at my seat. And I’m not hungry.”
“Don’t be foolish, Rachel. Of course you’re hungry. Besides, in my country, refusing to break bread with someone is a discourtesy.”
“We’re not in your country.”
“But we are.” The flight attendant came down the aisle, pushing a small wheeled cart laden with trays of fruit, cheese and small sandwiches as well as a silver coffee service.
To her horror, Rachel’s belly growled. Karim grinned.
“So much for not being hungry.” He waved the attendant away, poured two cups of coffee, then picked up a plate and filled it with tiny sandwiches and fruit. “And so much for not being in my country.” He looked at her as he handed her the plate, silverware and an enormous linen napkin. “I am a prince.”
“So you’ve made clear.”
“I am my country’s diplomat.”
“How nice for you,” Rachel said sweetly.
“It means that wherever I live is a part of Alcantar.” Karim sipped his coffee. “My home in New York. My weekend place in Connecticut.” He paused. “This aircraft. When you are in those locations you are subject to the laws of my people. Do you understand?”
“I’m an American citizen. You can’t simply—”