Page 17 of Prince of Her Heart
“Of course,” she teased, smiling—and turned slightly.“Dad, you know—”
“Ramzi el Sandir,” her father said, cutting off the need for formal introductions.He extended his hand to Ramzi, and Tabitha felt her chest ease.No titles.No barriers.Just one man greeting another.
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” Ramzi replied as he took her father’s hand.
“And you!”Ben said warmly.“I’ve heard plenty about you from Tilda and my girl.”
There was a beat of silence between them.A pause.The kind that held weight.Something unspoken passed between the two men as they looked at each other.
Tabitha didn’t know what it was, but it settled deep.
Before she could ask, the screen door banged open.
Her mother bustled down the steps, wiping her hands on the ruffled red-checked apron she’d sewn just last year to replace the blue one from the year before.Tilda Jones—steadfast, apron-wearing, small-town solid—moved like a woman who had waited long enough.
“You’re home!”her mother gasped, arms open.“I can’t believe you’re actually here!”
Tabitha stepped into her mother’s embrace with a soft laugh, wrapping her arms tightly around the smaller woman.She glanced over her mother’s shoulder at Ramzi, who stood a few feet away, watching the reunion.
“Mom, I just saw you a couple days ago.”
Her mother pulled back, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her apron.“Yeah, and you should have beenhomefor your birthday instead of forcing your aging mother to take the train into that awful city to eat one meal with you on your special day.”
Behind her, Tabitha heard her father chuckle.
She turned and rolled her eyes at him.“Sorry, Mom.”
Tilda sighed dramatically, waving away the apology as if she hadn’t eaten perfectly grilled salmon at one of the finest restaurants in the city.“Well, never mind.You’re home now, and we’re going to have a grand time this weekend.”
She flapped her hands, shooing her husband and Ramzi toward the SUV.“Go on, get the bags.The beds are already made for both of you.”
Tabitha’s mouth dropped open.
She turned to Ramzi, stunned.
Did her mother just assume that her boss—hervery famous,very wealthy,very powerfulboss—was staying at the house for the weekend?
“Uh… Mom…” she said slowly, panic already climbing.“Ramzi… can’t stay here with us.”
Tilda didn’t answer.
She was too busy zeroing in on Tabitha’s left hand.
“Is that…?”her mother whispered.
Before Tabitha could respond, Tilda reached out, gently grabbing her hand and lifting it to the sunlight.The diamond sparkled like it was trying to show off.
Tilda was silent.
Then she looked up—first at Ramzi, then back at Tabitha—and squealed.
“You’re engaged!My daughter isengaged!”
She threw her arms around Tabitha again, practically bouncing with excitement.The ruffles on her red-checked apron fluttered in time with her gleeful hops.
“Did you see that, Ben?”she called to her husband, eyes still locked on the ring.
Tabitha glanced over to her father.
