Page 31 of The Sheik's Pretend Fiancee
“There are no cameras here, either,” he assured her.
Angela’s smile widened.“Then I think you should kiss me again.”
He was kissing her before she finished speaking the last word!
Chapter 21
Aziz grumbled to himself as he returned to the stables. “Where are they?” he snapped at the stable master.
“Who?” the man replied, irritated at being spoken to in such a rude tone.
“That…woman!” he spat, barely keeping the epithet to himself.
“Princess Angela?” the man replied, confused. “She went with His Highness on a tour of the palace.”
Aziz stared at the man, furious that the meticulously scheduled agenda was being tossed out. He turned on his heel and headed back inside. He felt as if he was ona wild goose chase!
One of his security captains called out when he passed by. “HeyAziz!I just sent your guys the video of the saddle issue.”
Aziz blinked at the man. “Video?” he asked, not sure what the stable guy was talking about. “There aren’t any security cameras in the saddle room.”
“There aren’t security cameras,” the stable master explained, “but we’re doing training videos for future employees. There were several cameras set up in the saddle room and outside, ready to record how to properly clean and store thesaddles.”
Aziz couldn’t believe it.What the hell! Training cameras? Had that been on the schedule recently? He admitted, if only to himself, that he rarely reviewed the palace schedule for events that didn’tdirectly impact Tiro’s schedule.
This was bad! He turned away, mentallyreviewing his actions this morning.Yeah, he’d gone into the saddle room after asking which saddles would be used, but…would anyone remember?
He thought about it for a long moment, then accepted that yes, several people would probably remember him coming down to the stables and demanding to know which saddle Princess Angela would be using today. But he could just tell anyone who asked that he was there to check on the saddles. The fact that the damn trainer had fallen off the freaking horse was a good enough explanation as to why he would have investigated the saddles. Sighing with relief, Aziz nodded, silently assured by that story. He’d simply claim that someone had done something to the saddle after he’d checked them.
Yes, that made sense. It was his job to check anything that might harm Sheik Tiro. He was merely doing his job, Aziz thought. At least, he hoped that’s what others would think.
Aziz arrived outside of Tiro’s private quarters, ready to step into the apartment and offer his explanation. But as he approached the door, another guard stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“Aziz, sir,” the guard said with a quick nod. “We have a situation.”
Aziz’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”
Before the guard could answer, a waiter entered the hallway, balancing a tray with both hands. Aziz’s gaze snapped to the man.
“What is that for?” Aziz demanded, his tone sharp.
The waiter froze, then shifted nervously under Aziz’s scrutiny. “It’s a snack for His Highness,” he said, his voice cautious.
Aziz raised an eyebrow. “Sheikh Tiro doesn’t snack. He has a fully stocked cupboard—he doesn’t order extra food at this time of day, especially not something like this.”
The waiter’s gaze flicked down to the tray, then back at Aziz. “Actually, sir, it’s not for the sheik. It’s for Princess Angela.”
Aziz’s expression tightened. Of course. The princess. She was always trying to make herself the center of attention, even here.
He took a step forward, his eyes hardening. “I’ll take that,” Aziz said, his voice cold. “And if you say anything to anyone else about me carrying food, I’ll make sure you disappear from this place.”
The waiter’s face paled, and he stammered, “Yes, sir... of course, sir.”
Aziz didn’t wait for another word. He snatched the tray from the waiter’s hands, his fingers digging into the metal. He glanced at his men, standing watch nearby. “Check the hallways. No one gets in or out while I’m inside.”
Without waiting for a response, Aziz turned and started down the corridor, the tray heavy in his hands. He had to move fast. The less time he spent exposed, the better. The hallways were clear—he’d planned for that.
He reached a narrow servant’s entrance that led into the inner quarters. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Aziz pulled the vial from his pocket. He didn’t have time to be delicate. Holding the tray with one arm, he twisted the cork off with his teeth and examined the options laid out on the board. Hummus. Tiro hated hummus! Quickly, he sprinkled the powder over the mound of dip, making sure it was well mixed.
