Gambling With the Crown(2)

                Like the morning Lenore had wanted chocolate croissants from a boulangerie halfway across Paris. Croissants she knew damn well she would barely sniff before turning to the egg-white omelet instead. Emily had fumed the whole way. Fortunately, she’d not had to do that again, because Kadir had been rather angry when he found out.

                Yet another thing Lenore blamed her for. But Kadir wasn’t a stupid man and he could read the address on the bag, which apparently Lenore did not try to hide when she tossed them aside as predicted.

                Kadir sat up against the headboard and picked up the coffee. His dark hair was tousled and he needed to shave, but he was still one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. Not that she was attracted to him. Of course not. He was an arrogant, entitled, brilliant jackass and she did not like men like that.

                Heck, she probably wouldn’t like him at all if he didn’t pay her so much.

                Except, dammit, that wasn’t quite true. He drove her crazy with his cool confidence and certainty he was always right, but he remembered her birthday and the anniversary of the date she’d started working for him. She liked to think that meant he cared about people in his own fashion, though it was probably just that mind of his, which never forgot a fact.

                But she chose to believe the former; therefore, she couldn’t dislike him.

                Much.

                Emily flipped open the notebook she’d tucked under one arm and steadfastly ignored the sheet as it slipped down and revealed a hard, muscled chest and that damn arrow of dark hair that marched down the center of his abdomen and disappeared beneath the fabric.

                “You have a seven-thirty meeting with the chairman of RAC Steel, and a phone call after that with Andrakos Shipping. There is also the real estate agent to meet with on the specs for the property and a site inspection this afternoon.”

                Kadir sipped the coffee and peered up at her from beneath those impossibly long lashes of his. His eyes were a clear, dark gray that snapped with intelligence.

                Really, did a man so beautiful also have to be so smart?

                “You are a model of efficiency as always, Miss Bryant. Shukran jazeelan.”

                She glanced at her watch and tried to ignore the flush of pleasure rolling over her. “Breakfast is on the way up, Your Highness. And I have told the driver to be here at seven sharp.”

                Kadir’s gaze slid over her. He was assessing her, the way he assessed everyone, but she always felt that strange little prickle that started at the back of her neck and continued down her spine like electricity dripping through a conduit.

                She didn’t like it. She licked her suddenly dry lips and closed the notebook. Kadir’s eyes narrowed.

                “If that is all, Your Highness?”

                “It is.”

                She turned to go when a racket sounded outside the doors to the bedroom. She wasn’t particularly alarmed, as Kadir traveled nowhere without armed guards, but it was unusual in the extreme. She started toward the door when Lenore Bradford burst in.

                Emily drew up short. When she realized she clutched the notebook to her chest, she lowered it. Her heart thudded alarmingly. Behind Lenore, a man in a dark suit stood there like a mountain. An angry mountain, she realized.

                He would have let Lenore into the suite, because she’d been here before, but he would have expected her to wait while he announced her.