by Sophia Lynn
“Good evening,” she blurted, and then grabbed her purse and exited the car as fast as she could without bolting. As relieved as she was that Zayid hadn’t attempted to take things further, she couldn’t deny the disappointment in her heart that she hadn’t felt his lips against hers.
Chapter Eight
Zayid walked into the laboratory building two days later with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step, looking forward to seeing Madeline again. Following Vanessa’s advice, he’d decided to back off a bit and give Madeline space and time to get used to him, with the hopes that she would eventually start coming to him instead of running away every time he tried to get closer.
He’d wanted to kiss her so badly when he’d dropped her off at her apartment the other night—the way her eyes had flared hot with desire and her lips had parted in invitation had ignited a fire in him that had been nearly impossible to resist. But beneath the desire in her eyes, he’d glimpsed fear, and he’d known that if he’d pushed his luck she would have regretted the encounter. His hope was that if he left her desiring more, she would be more receptive to his next advance, or perhaps even make an advance of her own at some point. His smile widened at the thought.
When he walked into the lab and saw her pacing back and forth behind the island counter, her hands tangled in her hair, his smile disappeared as worry spread through his chest.
“Madeline? What’s wrong?”
Madeline jerked her head up at the sound of his voice, her green eyes a little wild. “Oh, it’s you.” She let out a breath, and a tiny bit of the tension drawing her shoulders tight seemed to ease. “I was wondering when you’d come by again.”
“Did you have need of me?” he asked curiously, drawing closer as he wondered whether or not the relief he’d glimpsed was because of his presence or some other reason. “You know you can call or text me anytime.”
“No, no,” Madeline waved her hand casually, but the tension didn’t leave her face. “I’m not dealing with anything you can help me with.”
“Well why don’t you tell me what it is anyway?” Zayid said gently, drawing two stools over to the island. He sat atop one, then patted the other, indicating she should join him. “Maybe I can at least offer some advice.”
“I doubt it.” Madeline huffed out a breath, but she sat. “Aisha came to talk to me this morning. Apparently our IVF project is getting a fair bit of attention, and City 7 TV wants to interview us. For some reason she’s decided to have me go on the air, because I’m American and would appeal to a wider audience when they rebroadcast the interview internationally.”
“Well that sounds like great news!” Zayid tried not to frown in puzzlement. “More publicity means the possibility of more support and funding, does it not?”
“Yes,” Madeline groused, “except that if I’m doing the interview, we’re probably going to lose funding.”
Now Zayid really did frown. “Why on earth would that happen?”
“Because I’m a terrible public speaker!” Madeline threw up her hands in frustration. “I know, it’s totally weird because I don’t have a problem being social or anything. But when I have to get up in front of an audience, and live television is in front of an audience even if I can’t see them, I just freeze up. I don’t know what it is, but my palms get sweaty and I forget what I’m talking about and—ugh.” She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes.
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Zayid patted her knee, trying not to notice that the beige skirt she wore was perilously close to exposing the skin there. She’d paired the pencil skirt with a dark green blouse that was tucked into it, drawing attention to her trim waistline and curvy hips despite the lab coat she wore over her ensemble. “It’s not the end of the world, Madeline. I can help you with this.”
“How?” Madeline dropped her eyes, a combination of hopelessness and desperation in her green eyes that actually made his heart ache a little for her. “There’s no way you can teach me how to speak in public, Zayid. I took several classes in college to try and overcome this issue and I still haven’t been able to. A couple of days of practice isn’t going to make a difference.”
“Maybe not, but I’m sure it’ll make a world of difference if I go on the air with you.”
“What?”
Zayid smiled at the shock in her voice. “I’ve done my fair share of public appearances, both on and off screen. As an influential backer of your project, it wouldn’t look odd at all for me to be at the interview with you, and I can jump in when you freeze up or aren’t sure what to say.”
“But won’t people notice that you’re basically doing the interview for me?” Madeline bit her bottom lip. “I don’t want to look like I need you to take care of me or something.”
Annoyance sparked in Zayid’s chest at that, but he smothered it. “Madeline, it’s okay to ask for help sometimes. Of course I won’t deliberately try to smother you in the interview. If anything, I’ll try to encourage you to speak more. But if I do end up taking most of the questions, that’s still better than not getting through the interview at all, right?”
“Yes.” Madeline ran a hand through her curly brown locks. She’d painted her nails a dark green to match her blouse, Zayid noted, and he wanted to snag her hand so that he could press kisses against those elegant fingers of hers. “Of course, you’re right. I just…I’ve got a bit of an ego, you know? I don’t like to look incompetent. But in this area I am, and I do need your help.”
“Well I’m happy to provide it.” Zayid did end up snagging her hand as she brought it back down to her lap, but he settled for a comforting squeeze rather than a kiss. “Just let me know when the interview is going to be, and I’ll have the media coordinator at the palace contact the news station to arrange everything.”
“Oh, thank you, Zayid.” Madeline hopped off her chair and threw her arms around his neck. “You’re really such a lifesaver.”
Zayid tried not to react as Madeline pressed her curves against him, but he couldn’t help it—she felt so good in his arms, and her sweet, lavender scent filled his senses, tempting him to bury his nose into her hair. He inhaled sharply as his cock began to rise in response, and when she pulled back to look up at him with a smile on her face, he couldn’t resist the sight of her luscious lips any longer. Dipping his head down, he kissed her, savoring the way her generous mouth felt against his. His heart skipped a beat when he felt Madeline stiffen beneath him, and for a moment he thought he’d made a mistake, but then her arms tightened around him and she kissed him back. Heat swept through him as he felt her nipples pebble against his chest even through the layers of clothing separating them. He tightened his arms around her waist, resisting the urge to slide his hands lower and cup her bottom so he could lift her into his lap.
Just as Zayid was debating whether or not to take the kiss further, his phone buzzed in his pocket, ruining the moment. Sighing, he pulled back and drew his phone out of his pocket to see a text message from his hotel manager.
“Looks like I have to go,” he said, giving her a regretful smile as he slid off the stool. Honestly, he was actually grateful for the interruption. He sensed it was still too soon for him to push her further, and if his manager hadn’t texted him he might have abandoned his original plan.
“That’s fine,” Madeline stepped back, looking very out of sorts as she dragged her hands through her hair again. Her pupils were dilated, her lips were slightly swollen, and the blush staining her cheeks was so compelling that he nearly pulled her back into his arms again to see if he could make her blush in other places, too. “I’ve got to go back to work anyway.”
“Then we’re exactly in the same place right now.” Zayid smiled as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. “Text me the info for the interview, will you? I’ll be in touch.”
As he walked out of the laboratory, feeling Madeline’s gaze on him the entire time, he couldn’t quite help the triumphant smile tugging at his lips.
***
Three days later
“Please sit still,” Moona, her makeup artist, admonished as she wielded a powder brush in front of Madeline’s face. “You don’t want to go on national television with your makeup smudged, do you?”
“No, of course not.” Madeline took a deep breath and tried to settle herself on the stool. She was in the dressing room of the City 7 News Station, getting ready for her interview, which was going live in less than an hour. But it was getting increasingly hard for her not to fidget and bite her lip, because crunch time was here and Zayid had yet to show up.
Where the hell is he? she thought angrily as she closed her eyes so the makeup artist could brush foundation over her skin. The brush swished back and forth across her nose, and she resisted the urge to sneeze. She’d given him the time and day, and they’d even met yesterday to go over what she was going to say and make sure they were on the same page. Surely he would have told her if something had come up, right? He wasn’t the kind of man who would abandon her in her hour of need.
And just how do you know that? A voice in her head demanded. You’ve known him for what, less than a week? He could be exactly that kind of man.
Madeline shoved her palms underneath her bottom to keep from wringing her hands together or digging her nails into her palms. God, had she made the biggest mistake of her career by trusting Zayid?
“Miss, please stop biting your lip,” Moona admonished. “I need to apply lipstick.”
Madeline pressed her lips together, then tried to relax. The sound of the door swinging open caught her ears, and her eyes popped open in time to see Zayid walking through the door.
“Zayid!” she exclaimed, completely ruining her makeup. The makeup artist cursed in Arabic as she slashed a line of makeup across the left side of Madeline’s jaw, but Madeline was too relieved and annoyed to care. “Jesus, I thought you’d abandoned me! Did you really have to show up last minute?”
“Sorry,” Zayid said, flashing her an apologetic smile as the other makeup artist escorted him to a chair, chattering away in Arabic. “I was tied up in a meeting.”
I was tied up in a meeting. A sense of déjà vu washed over her, and dread settled low in her gut. Jason had told her the exact same thing when he’d arrived for their dinner date on the night they’d broken up. She was sure he’d been with that other woman before he’d come to eat with her. Was Zayid also late because he’d been in a woman’s arms before he’d come here? Her blood heated at the thought.
And so what if he was with another woman? You already told him that you weren’t interested in having a relationship with him. What did you expect, that he wouldn’t move on?
Shame stung her, and she turned her attention away from Zayid, holding still while the makeup artist washed her face and reapplied her foundation. Of course she didn’t have any right to be jealous of Zayid—they weren’t even remotely committed to each other. But he had kissed her last night, and the way he’d looked at her, his silver gaze full of heat and tenderness, had made her toes curl and her heart flip-flop in her chest. She wanted him to look at her like that again, and instead there he was, sitting across the room from her and turning his charming smile on his makeup artist, who giggled and chatted with him as she prepared him for the cameras.
“Are you alright?” Zayid asked. His smile had faded some, and his silver eyes had softened with concern. “You look upset.”
Madeline let out a breath. “I’m just nervous is all.” It wasn’t entirely untrue, and she wasn’t about to confess the rest of her feelings, especially not with these other women in the room.
“Don’t worry.” Zayid gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be with you the whole time. I have faith in you.”
Something about the way he said that made the knot in Madeline’s chest ease a little. She settled back in her seat, allowing the makeup artist to put the finishing touches on her look. The woman stood back, hands on her hips as she clucked her tongue, and then she turned Madeline around to face the mirror.
“There. What do you think?”
Madeline couldn’t help but smile. The woman had done a great job with her makeup. She’d gone for natural tones in eyeshadow and blush, and her lipstick was a subtle color, drawing the attention to the shape of her mouth rather than what was on it.
“It looks great,” she said. “You are very good at your job.”
“Thank you.” Moona beamed for a moment, and then she ushered Madeline from the chair. “Time to go! They are going to start soon.”
Zayid, who’d only needed a few minutes, was ushered out the door after her and down the hall. He snuck his hand into hers for a quick squeeze before they entered the studio, sending a rush of warmth through Madeline that overpowered the anxiety within her. Zayid may have been late, but she was so glad to have him here—his presence was more comforting than she’d expected. Maybe she’d be able to get through this interview after all.
“Good evening!” Aziz Mohammed, the show’s host, greeted them. He was a compact, bearded man dressed in a dark suit with a red tie that popped against the crisp white of his shirt. His white smile flashed brightly against his dark skin, and he shook her hand enthusiastically. “It’s great to have you on the show, Miss Anthony. And Prince Zayid! It’s such an honor.” He bowed deeply to Zayid.
“Thank you,” Zayid said graciously. The host led them up the steps to the platform, where they all settled into comfortable leather chairs at a large wooden office table. The sight of all the cameras set up around the room and pointed in their direction made Madeline nervous again, but Zayid squeezed her hand under the table again and she relaxed a little. Somehow he seemed to intuitively know when her anxiety was rising to the surface, and she was grateful that he could soothe her with a simple touch.
They finished setting up, and when the producer counted down to action, Aziz turned to the camera with a smile. “Good evening, and welcome to City 7 News! Tonight we’ve got two very special guests, Miss Madeline Anthony of University of Dubai’s medical research laboratories, and Prince Zayid Tuma of Abu Dhabi, both here to discuss a very important project they are working on in order to help women who are struggling to conceive children.” He turned back toward Madeline. “Miss Anthony, how are you tonight?”
Madeline froze for a moment, but Zayid’s hand under the table prompted her to speak. “I’m well, thank you,” she said, hoping that her smile didn’t seem too strained. “Very happy to be on the show with you tonight.”
“Excellent. And you, Prince Zayid? I understand that your appearance tonight is a very spur-of-the-moment decision.” Aziz winked, and Madeline’s heart jumped in her chest. Did he suspect something was going on between them?
“Indeed,” Zayid acknowledged with a bow of his head. “I only just found out about the project a couple of days ago when I came to visit Madeline at the lab. She’s a very close friend of the emira, and therefore a close friend of mine, too. So when she came to Dubai to assist on this project I was interested to know what she’s working on. The in vitro fertilization project happens to be very close to my heart as I have family and friends who would benefit greatly from this new variation of the procedure should it be a success.”
“Is that so?’ The reporter asked, sounding interested. He turned back to Madeline. “Why don’t you tell us about this new method you’re working on and how it could be helpful to women trying to conceive?”
With Zayid’s hand in hers beneath the table, somehow Madeline was able to get through the interview without sounding like a crazy person. Zayid took questions, as well, but to Madeline’s surprise and pleasure she actually managed to answer the majority of the questions, keeping the focus on her and the project and not the handsome royal by her side. As promised, Zayid not only showed up for the interview and supported her, but ensured the spotlight stayed on her. She felt guilty about doubting him earlier.
“You did very well for your first interview,” Aziz told
her after the cameras had stopped for a break. He gave her a very warm smile as he shook her hand. “I could tell you were a little nervous but you handled it well and your answers were very nicely delivered. I would be happy to have you back for a follow-up interview.”
“Thank you.” Madeline gave him a genuine smile, the fear finally dropping away now that it was over. “I really appreciate your kind words, and this opportunity to spotlight our project and raise awareness.”
They said their good-byes, and Madeline and Zayid left the studio together. “Aziz is right,” he said as they made their way to the underground parking garage connected to the studio, “You did very well.” He looped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a side-hug as they walked.
“Thanks.” With the barriers around her heart down, Madeline leaned into Zayid’s embrace as they walked into the darkness of the garage. There was no one to see them here anyway. “It was really because of you, though. I don’t know that I would have done half as well if you hadn’t been there to support me.”
“It was my pleasure.”
He opened the passenger door for Madeline, and she slipped in silently. He hadn’t offered a ride and she hadn’t asked; somehow they’d just mutually decided that he was taking her home. Awareness prickled across her scalp as he buckled himself in and started the car. He was closer than he’d been to her in several days, and within the confines of the cab she could feel the heat coming off his body and smell the spicy-sweet aftershave he wore. The urge to lean in and run her hands up the hard chest she knew lay beneath his suit, to duck her head into the crook of his neck and inhale more of his addictive scent, was almost too much to bear.
Instead, she fisted her hands in her lap and leaned back into the seat as he drove her home. Zayid kept his eyes on the road, as did she. In the silence that stretched between them the tension seemed to grow even thicker, tingles spreading across her skin and heat flowing through her veins. And they weren’t even looking at each other.
