Debbi Rawlins - His Royal Prize

His back was to her, his dark hair damp, probably from his shower. Of course, everyone else had been up for hours doing chores. She doubted he’d ever done a lick of work in his life.

Rose sat to his right, her blond hair held back in a youthful ponytail, making Livy wish she hadn’t let Mickey whack hers off. Another place was set across from Rose, but there was no sign of anyone else.

When a floorboard creaked under Livy’s boot, Rose looked up and smiled. “What a surprise to see you here,” she said, and Livy tried not to wince. “Have you met my son?”

Shay didn’t even bother to turn around to see who Rose was talking to. Livy briefly thought she could set down the coffee and cream and get out before he saw her. Especially after Rose’s comment. He was going to think Livy was here to see him. Which was mostly true, but still…

A slight frown creased the older woman’s brows, and Livy realized she hadn’t responded. Hadn’t done anything, in fact, but stare at the back of Shay’s immobile head. “Uh, yeah, we met,” she mumbled, and saw him straighten.

“Oh, really?” Rose smiled again, and looked from Livy to Shay. “At the stables?”

An innocent question, a logical one, really, since that’s where Livy worked, but she stiffened with guilt and Shay finally turned toward her. It was a slow, almost reluctant movement that set Livy’s teeth clenching. Just before she would have met his eyes, she bowed her head to pour the coffee.

He didn’t say anything, which did nothing to ease Livy’s nerves. Better the jackass didn’t acknowledge her, she told herself, but she couldn’t do a darn thing about the heat crawling up her neck and stinging her cheeks.

“Livy? Are you all right?” Rose started to rise, but Livy waved for her to stay seated.

“I’m fine. Ella’s got some kind of bug, and Mrs. Coleman asked me to help out, but it looks like I might be coming down with something, too.” The words came out so fast and garbled that Livy wanted to sink into the seams of the hardwood floor.

Against her will, her gaze met Shay’s. Amusement glittered in his dark blue eyes, but his expression never wavered.

“The sugar needs replenishing,” he said calmly, and turned his attention away from her.

She blinked, stunned by his dismissal. His callous words dug their claws into her, and hurt replaced surprise. She moistened her suddenly dry lips and glanced at Rose.

The older woman was staring at her son with disapproval. She slowly lifted her napkin to her lips and dabbed a little, letting silence grow before she said, “King Zak is a lovely man. I’m sure he raised you with manners, Sharif.”

Livy wanted to disappear. She looked helplessly at the coffee. Rose would probably understand if Livy left the pot on the table and hightailed it out of here. Of course, judging by the way Shay’s jaw clenched, he just might beat her to the door. Right after he exploded.

But to her utter amazement, he did nothing. After a brief but awkward silence, he said, “I did not mean to be rude.”

He didn’t look at Livy or Rose, but faced straight ahead and that suited Livy just fine. Rose didn’t seem too pleased by the vague apology, but she didn’t push it.

“Your breakfast should be ready at any minute,” Livy mumbled as she poured the coffee, her gaze carefully directed to the chore. “Is there anything else you need besides sugar?”

“I’ll get it.” Rose started to rise. “I told Vi I’d love to help.”

“Oh, no. I’ll get it.” Livy jerked the pot and coffee sloshed over Shay’s cup into the saucer and splattered his shirt cuff. “Oh, boy.” She stared at the spray of brown against the snow-white silk. “Sorry.” She hoped he’d brought a lot of shirts.

He barely moved. His accusing gaze went from the dotted cuff to Livy’s face.

“It was an accident.” She lifted her chin.

“Of course it was,” Rose said, dipping her napkin in her water glass and reaching over to dab at the cuff.

Shay pulled away, and looked at Livy again. He said nothing as he extended his hand toward her, the soiled part of the cuff facing her.

Obviously he wanted her to clean it. She stared him down for a moment, tempted to pour the rest of the coffee over his head. But for Rose’s sake, Livy forced a smile and set the pot aside.

“Sharif.” Annoyance edged into Rose’s voice.

“No problem,” Livy said quickly, and plucked Shay’s linen napkin off his lap. Before he knew what she was doing, she dipped the fabric into his water glass and blotted the cuff.

He stared in disbelief. First at his wrist, and then at her. “Are you mad?”

“Fuming, actually,” she said, her temper overcoming her embarrassment. He had kissed her just yesterday, and now he was treating her as if he barely knew her. Or worse, as if she was his personal maid. What a jerk!

“Mad as in insane.” He snatched the napkin out of her hand, and started rubbing at the coffee stains himself.

“Gee, I’m glad to see you can do something for yourself.” Livy had almost forgotten Rose was in the room until she heard her stifle a laugh.

Shay was too busy rubbing with a vengeance to notice, and Livy slid the older woman an apologetic look.

Rose merely grinned. “Where did you say you two met?”

“The stables—” Livy started.

“I had the misfortune of—” Shay said at the same time, “meeting this impudent—”

“Enough.”

Everyone turned at the sound of a man’s commanding voice. But not before Shay slid her a cool look. And she sent him a resentful one back.

“Good morning, Zak.” Rose smiled broadly. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

“I have already eaten.” His gaze stayed glued on Shay. “Nearly three hours ago.”

“I see.” Rose shot a nervous glance at her son, whose sullen expression hadn’t changed. “Then have some coffee with us, won’t you?”

Livy vaguely knew that was her cue to pour the man a cup, but she was too fascinated by him. He had to be a king or sheikh. Although he wore regular clothes, he was tall and broad and very dark and mysterious looking. It was easy to picture him on a throne inside a grand palace just like in the fairy tales. If she hadn’t seen the kindness in his eyes she might even have been afraid.

Instead of embarrassed. After all, these people were guests. Royalty, in fact. And she was the hired help.

“Livy?” Rose placed a gentle hand on her arm, and Livy jumped. “This is King Zakariyya Al Farid of Balahar, Sharif’s father. Zak, this is Olivia Smith.”

Maybe she was supposed to curtsy or something. Unsure, she dragged her palm down the front of her jeans, then stuck out her hand.

He accepted it, amusement twinkling in his eyes, but instead of a handshake, he brought the back of her hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I am enchanted to meet you.”

Livy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. For a moment she felt so grown-up and important and horribly giddy. What the heck was she supposed to say now? She glanced at Rose for a clue. Nothing. Her gaze automatically went to Shay. He had an odd gleam in his eyes. He almost looked angry.

She swallowed and shuffled. “Me, too,” she finally mumbled as she freed her hand. “Uh, do you want coffee?”

King Zak nodded and, ignoring the place setting opposite Rose, he pulled out the chair beside her. To Livy’s surprise, a faint pink spread across the older woman’s cheeks. Livy quickly looked at Shay. He’d noticed, too. He didn’t look pleased.

Livy scooted around the table and got the cup and saucer, then filled it for King Zak. As she set it before him, she felt the weight of Shay’s stare, and she cautiously looked his way.

His gaze moved down her body, lingering on her breasts, before rising to lock with hers. Was he thinking about their kiss, about the way he’d touched her? Had he thought about her at all last night? The same squishy feeling that had made a fool out of her yesterday threatened her balance. She quickly looked away…to find Rose and King Zak watching her with interest.