Page 30 of Prince of Her Heart
He didn’t hear it at first.Not really.Not until the second, more insistent whistle pierced through the fog of lust clouding his brain.He blinked, groaned, but didn’t let her go.Didn’t even break contact.He just stopped kissing her, reluctantly easing his mouth from hers while keeping her close—his fingers still buried in her hair, his other hand firm around her waist.Holding her steady.
Or maybe holding himself together.
Tabitha was trembling against him, her breath shallow, her eyes wide and slightly glazed.Her lips were kiss-bruised and parted, and he had the insane urge to dive right back in.Just one more kiss.Maybe two.
But another high-pitched squeal snapped him out of it.
A pack of small children—ten, maybe more—came barreling down the path toward the waterfall like a stampede of wild energy and sticky fingers.Their giggles bounced off the trees, drowning out the sound of the creek and whatever shred of dignity he had left.
Tabitha giggled too.Against his chest.The sound was muffled, but he felt the tremor of it and glanced down, incredulous.
“It’s not funny,” he muttered, jaw clenched, trying to angle his hips slightly so his current state wasn’t obvious.
“It kinda is,” she whispered, still tucked against him.Her body shook with silent laughter as she tilted her head up, clearly amused by the timing—and his predicament.
Ramzi groaned, dragging a hand down his face.“You’re enjoying this.”
“A little,” she admitted with zero shame, her lips twitching.
He glanced over her head, watching the children.They didn’t even glance at them—too busy shrieking and tossing rocks into the water.Still, he didn’t relax.Not completely.Because Tabitha was still in his arms, still warm and breathless, and he was still so hard it physically hurt.
Thankfully, by the time the parents appeared behind the stampede, waving juice boxes and looking vaguely overwhelmed, Ramzi had at least regained some semblance of control.
At least on the outside.
Inside?He was completely wrecked.
And Tabitha was the one who’d done it—with a kiss and a laugh and a smile that made him want to forget the rest of the world entirely.
God help him, he didn’t want to stop.Not now.Not after that.
And definitely not in just four days.
Chapter 12
“Who the hellareyou?”
Ramzi had been enjoying himself—surprisingly so.He’d been socializing with Stacy and John as well as being introduced to the Jones’ neighbors.At the moment, he was grabbing beers for himself and Tabitha, but had paused, watching Tabitha laugh and flit from one friend to the next at the Thursday night barbecue had been a rare pleasure.Her green dress fluttered as she bent to retrieve a stuffed bear for a toddler, and his gaze lingered a bit longer than it should have.She was warm and radiant under the strings of lights, the soft glow catching in her hair as if it had been arranged just for him.
But that rude question shattered the moment.
Ramzi turned slightly, taking his time.He wasn’t inclined to respond to the disrespect in the man’s tone—especially from someone like this man.He didn’t need to be told who it was.The beer in the guy’s hand and the bitter glint in his eye confirmed it: Martin.The ex-fiancé.The man who had traded Tabitha for a woman with louder makeup and less sense.
Normally, Ramzi would offer his hand, introduce himself with perfect decorum.But then again, nothing about this visit had been “normal.”He wasn’t used to being approached like this, not without layers of protocol and filters.
People didn’t talk to him this way.
Ever.
The weight of his title—the Crown Prince of a sovereign nation—usually acted as an invisible shield.Diplomats, CEOs, ambassadors—they all played the game with tact.Even their insults were swaddled in courtesy and wrapped in plausible deniability.
This, though?This was just crude and loud.
Around them, conversations had slowed.More than a few people paused with half-filled paper plates or cups in hand, waiting for his response.Curious.Suspicious.Ready for gossip.Ramzi noted how few people here actually knew who he was.Even Tilda and Ben—sweet and kind as they’d been—probably just thought he was some corporate suit.A visiting executive.Maybe a tech billionaire, at best.
Had Tabitha only told them he was her boss?
“My name is Ramzi,” he said finally, keeping his voice calm and even.No arrogance.No steel.No title.Just…Ramzi.He let the words settle, ignoring the flickers of tension from his bodyguards nearby.They were watching everything, but had orders not to intervene unless there was a true threat.
