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I shoot him a glare.
The Prince gestures to one of the purple chairs as he sits in the other. “These are for us. That couch is for our clients.”
I think of the old perv about to meet us and shoot myself off the couch and across to the chair.
The Prince rubs his jaw and hides what I’m sure is a smile.
“I don’t have my weapons,” I realize, straightening and scanning the tent for anything usable.
He nods, then reaches down and lifts his right pant leg. Against his ankle is a sheathed blade. He tugs it free and passes it to me. “Use mine.”
My body brightens and accepts the long knife with eagerness. It gleams beneath the lamplight, and a smile fills my face.
“Stunning,” The Prince mutters.
I glance at him, then hide the blade beneath my thigh. “I might keep this.”
He returns my smile. “Then it's yours.”
I twirl my thumbs in my lap, a blush reddening my cheeks.Dammit.
“May I ask you something?”
I look up, finding him gazing at me intently. “Guess it depends on the question.”
“When we first walked in –”
I hold up a hand. “No.”
He snaps his mouth shut. His nose scrunches in mild frustration. Then he nods. “Okay.”
I cross my arms and lean back in the chair. “You can know more about who I am when I know – at the very fucking least – your name.”
The Prince scoops a hand over his hair. “Fair enough.”
“It’s extremely fair,” I say bitterly, then glare at the couch. “When’s your disgusting client getting here?”
The Prince waves a hand in dismissal. “We don’t set times, just dates. It helps keep us hidden.”
“That’s very inefficient.”
He shrugs. “It is what it is.”
I fall silent as shoes scuff outside our tent.
The flap pulls back and reveals a large man in a stained button-down and dark slacks. His hair is greasy, his eyes soulless as he walks inside. He drops onto the couch with a grunt, his attention flicking between The Prince and me.
“Youare not The Princess.” The man’s face darkens, anger thundering to life.
“No, but she’s a trained associate of mine.” The Prince crosses his legs and straightens in his chair, his voice dark and authoritative.
“I pay for two Bosses.” The man grips the edge of the couch, prepares to leave.
“Tonight, you get what you want and you pay half the price. A steal, some might say,” The Prince says.
I can’t take my eyes off him, his persona so cold and indifferent that I realize I’ve never met The Prince. Not really. He’s been his true self with me from the beginning, even if he never shared his real name. I chew on the inside of my cheek.He’s always wanted me to see the real him. But then why won’t he tell me who he is?
The client narrows his beady eyes on me, so I give him my best snarl. He frowns but settles back onto the couch. “Very well. You know what I want. So get on with it.”
