in the way…”
The woman immediately shook her head, not wanting to insult a personal guest of the sheik. “Help yourself. Let me know what you need and I’ll bring it to you.” She quickly stepped back and bowed slightly, glancing over Dana’s shoulder to the guards to make sure Dana wasn’t offended in any way.
“No, no,” Dana countered with excitement and waved happily to the woman. “I can do it all by myself. I don’t want to interrupt anything you guys are already working on preparing.”
She went to the pantry and surveyed the various ingredients, then to the giant refrigerator and freezer, doing the same thing. She decided on making a cake first of all, thinking the mixing and beating would get out some of her energy. A multi-layered cake with thick frosting and some gooey filling to make it even sweeter. Maybe even decorations so that she’d have to concentrate and not think about men with sexy eyes and broad shoulders.
An hour later, she had two cake layers cooling on the racks behind her and she was pounding out chicken breasts. Six of them, actually. Four of them were already pounded out and were breaded, in the refrigerator chilling before she put them into the oven. She knew she was cooking too much, but it was therapeutic and she knew it wouldn’t go to waste. Her new body guards would help her eat it, if no one else were interested. She definitely wouldn’t offer any of her food to that irritating man who was probably now cavorting…dammit! She pounded the chicken breast harder, wanting to get rid of the image of Hassan and the bitchingly beautiful Farida.
She was frantically chopping up ingredients for a salad when she noticed a hush fall over the kitchen staff. Dana didn’t even glance up, knowing that Hassan had entered their domain and irritated that everyone acted so deferential to the man. Who cared if he was their ruler? He was a jerk! He was a rude, insensitive, horrible man who thought that women were throw away pieces that he could keep around and take out to play with when he was bored. She didn’t even think about the way she’d snuck out of the palace two nights ago. That was different, she told herself as she grabbed a tomato and slaughtered it with the knife.
She reminded herself that she had no business asking him about Farida. Dana told herself that she was his only employee, that was all, and she chopped the carrots more quickly, tossing them into the bowl beside her.
“What are you up to?” he asked and swiped a carrot from her bowl.
She stopped chopping and glared up at him, not saying a word. Just waiting for him to look around and answer the question himself.
Hassan chuckled and smiled, unrepentant for asking an obvious question. “Okay, why are you doing it?”
She shook her head and resumed chopping, ignoring him as much as a woman could ignore a six foot three inch man with huge muscles and a desire not to be ignored.
“If you don’t want to talk, I can think of much more entertaining things to do than cooking.”
Not a word. Not even a glance in his direction to acknowledge that he’d spoken! She didn’t want to hear his charming voice or humorous quips, and she definitely didn’t want his sexual innuendos that made her shudder with need. She’d gotten a good night’s sleep last night and her body had fully recuperated. More than willing to sample more of the same. But he had the Fabulous Farida now. He could just go do whatever with the other woman. Dana didn’t need the irritation. Although if he came any closer with that Farida-like grin, she might just start chopping off body parts, she thought furiously.
She did not want him, she told herself. She would not accept seconds. Leftovers were just….Uhg!
She had to resist as Hassan came closer. Dana wasn’t any man’s sexual receptacle. If he wanted a willing woman, let him get Farida back. That woman was more than happy to volunteer her body to ease his sexual needs. The horrible woman had broadcast her intentions loud and clear, shouting it with her body language and her cloying perfume.
Dana actually missed the cucumber completely at the idea of that horrible, smelly woman in Hassan’s arms.
Hassan picked up the cucumber and handed it back to her, quickly removing his fingers from her knife range. “Want to talk about it?”
“What’s ‘it’?” she asked, knowing