The Sheikh's Son. Kristi Gold

she was just plain mad. “I’m an adult, A.J., not some naive adolescent. And in case you’re worried, I’m not a prude, I’m picky. Last, the only mistake I made tonight was thinking you could be the man who would be worth the wait. Obviously I was wrong.”

      He softly touched her face. “You are not wrong. When it comes to us—” he twined their fingers together, sending a message that wasn’t lost on Piper “—making love, I assure you that would definitely be worth the wait. And that is what I’m proposing, waiting until we have the opportunity to know each other while you are in Bajul.”

      Piper’s anger almost disappeared. Almost. “That would depend on whether you’re everything you seem to be, because I believe honesty and honor go hand in hand. Now, what was the second thing you wanted me to know?”

      A strange look passed over his face. “I still believe in chivalry. Will you allow me to walk you to your room?”

      She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m a big girl and I can find my way.”

      “As you wish.” After he escorted her into the corridor, A.J. executed a slight bow. “If I don’t see you tomorrow on the plane, Ms. McAdams, then I will make it a point to seek you out in Bajul.”

      She boarded the extremely large and lavish private plane less than five minutes before their scheduled departure, due to the rush-hour traffic and an apathetic cabdriver. When the five-man survey crew settled into the vacant beige leather seats at the front of the plane, she walked the aisle past what she assumed to be staff and press members. Despite the size of the plane, it appeared the back half had been cordoned off to passengers. Most likely it held a series of conference rooms and perhaps even living quarters. She might ask A.J. to give her the grand tour, provided she actually encountered him before they landed.

      She paused in the aisle to address a middle-aged, professor-like man with sparse graying hair, wire-rimmed glasses and kind brown eyes. Hopefully he spoke English, and that the last remaining spot was available. “Is this seat taken?”

      “It is reserved for Miss McAdams,” he replied. “Is that you?”

      Fortunately a language barrier wouldn’t exist during the lengthy flight. “Yes, that’s me.”

      “Then the seat is yours.”

      After sliding in next to the man and settling her red tote at her feet, she shifted toward him and stuck out her hand. “Hello, I’m Piper McAdams. I’m traveling to Bajul with the GLM engineers.”

      He gave her hand a soft shake. “Mr. Deeb.”

      Not a lot to go on there. Time for a fishing expedition. “Are you a friend of the sheikh’s?”

      “I am serving as his attaché on this trip.”

      “I’m sure that’s a very interesting duty.”

      He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “Managing Prince Adan’s schedule can be challenging at times, evidenced by his absence at the moment.”

      A good thing, since she might have missed the flight if the guy had been punctual. “He has a habit of being late, does he?”

      “He occasionally suffers from tardiness, among other things.”

      Piper wanted him to define “other things” but then she noticed a commotion toward the front of the plane. Assuming the mysterious monarch had finally arrived, she came to her feet along with the rest of the passengers and leaned slightly into the aisle to catch a glimpse. She spotted only A.J. dressed in a crisp, white shirt covered by a navy blue suit emblazoned with gold military-like insignias. Not a sheikh in sight.

      She regarded Mr. Deeb again and lowered her voice. “He must be some kind of pilot to earn that reception.”

      He cleared his throat and glanced away. “Yes, he is quite the aviator.”

      After everyone settled into their seats, Piper followed suit, well aware that her pulse had unwittingly picked up speed as she noticed A.J. stopping in the aisle to speak to one man. A man who oddly addressed the pilot as Prince Adan.

      Reality soon dawned, along with the sense that she might have been completely betrayed by blind faith. She turned a frown on Mr. Deeb. “He’s not the plane’s pilot, is he?”

      Again the man refused to look at her directly. “Yes, he is the pilot, as well as commander in chief of Bajul’s armed forces.”

      “And a Mehdi?”

      Deeb gave her a contrite look. “The third Mehdi son in line to inherit the throne.”

      And a major liar, Piper realized as she watched the sheikh disappear into the cockpit. She thanked her lucky stars she hadn’t made the mistake of climbing into bed with him. Then again, he’d been the one to put an end to that with his fake concerns over being only a royal employee, not a royal prince. And all that talk of honor. Honorable men didn’t deceive unsuspecting women about their identities.

      Fuming over the duplicity, Piper pulled a fashion magazine from her bag and flipped through the pages with a vengeance during takeoff. She didn’t have to deal with the situation now, or ever for that matter. She didn’t have to spend even one minute with A.J. or Adan or whatever his name was. He would be nothing more to her than a cute meet that had gone nowhere, a precautionary tale in the book of her life, a man she would endeavor to immediately forget....

      “May I have a moment with you in the aft lounge, Ms. McAdams?”

      She glanced up and immediately took in A.J.’s damnable dimples and his sexy mouth before visually traveling to his remarkable dark eyes. “Is the plane flying itself, Prince Mehdi?”

      He tried on a contrite look. “I have turned the controls over to the copilot for the time being so we can converse.”

      And if she spent one second alone with him, she might find herself caught up in his lair once more. “I do believe the seat belt sign is still on, and that means it’s not safe to move about the cabin.”

      Of course said sign picked that moment to ding and dim, robbing her of any excuse to avoid this confrontation. Nevertheless, he happened to be resident royalty, not to mention he could hold the power to grant—or reject—her grandfather’s bid. For that reason, she shoved the magazine back into the carry-on and slid out of the seat, putting her in very close proximity to the fibbing prince. “After you,” she said in a tone that was borderline irritable, to say the least.

      As the princely pilot started toward the rear of the plane, Piper followed behind him with her eyes lowered in an attempt to avoid the two female attendants’ curious stares. He paused to open a sliding frosted-glass door and gestured her forward into a narrow corridor before he showed her into a lounge containing dark brown leather furniture.

      “Make yourself comfortable,” A.J. said as he closed the sliding door behind her.

      Comfortable? Ha! Piper chose the lone chair to avoid inadvertent physical contact, while the sneaky sheikh settled on the opposing sofa.

      He draped his arm casually over the back cushions and smiled. “Have you enjoyed your flight so far?”

      In an effort to demonstrate some decorum, she bit back the harsh words clamoring to come out of her mouth. “Since it’s been less than fifteen minutes into the flight, I prefer to reserve judgment until landing.”

      He gave her a lingering once-over. “You look very beautiful today, Piper.”

      She tugged the hem of her black coatdress down to the top of her knees. Unfortunately she couldn’t convert the open collar to a turtleneck. “Thank you, but if you believe compliments will put you in the clear after you lied to me, think again.”

      “I am being completely sincere in my admiration.”

      “Forgive me if I