by Leslie North
She lost the internal battle and turned around. Dropping into a small curtsy, she gave him her biggest, fakest smile. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The ambassador’s eyes rounded and nearly bugged out of the older man’s head, but Natalie didn’t care. She wasn’t about to become a doormat. She turned away again and headed to the tiny galley.
As she pulled the curtain shut behind her, she sighed and emptied the coffee filter. This flight from Chicago to some kingdom in the Middle East that she’d never even heard of was turning out to be the longest in her life.
She’d been on some doozy flights before. Grabby passengers. Incessantly crying babies. Horribly sick service dogs. Co-workers who thought they were above cleaning the bathrooms in-flight. Honestly, the job really sucked sometimes.
She’d thought the private flights would be better, and in some respects, they were. At least there were fewer people to care for.
On the plus side, she got to travel. She’d have two whole days in Haamas to explore and see the sights before the plane was fueled and readied for the flight back. So far in her career, she’d drooled over the amazing architecture in Russia. Visited beautiful castles in Germany, Ireland, and Scotland. Tasted delicious Asian cuisine and traversed ancient temples and serene gardens. Viewed stunning artwork at the Louvre and swam in the Aegean off the coast of Greece. Collecting memories was her escape from reality and one that she’d never be able to afford without this job.
It was well worth the indignities that she suffered. Most of the time.
Two hours until touchdown. No more meals to serve. Coffee, maybe. Her feet ached, and she was exhausted. She hadn’t been able to close her eyes for more than an hour during the thirteen-hour flight. The last-minute change had afforded her only a few hours of shut-eye before the trip, and she was reaching the end of her rope. If she didn’t get off this plane soon, her snarkiness was going to turn into something that got her fired.
Sitting heavily on the stool in the small break space, she rubbed her feet. Her relief was short-lived as one of the guards yanked the curtain open. “The Prince requires you to change the air coming out of the vents. He’s cold.”
“The controls are right above him,” she said as she stood. “He can adjust them as much as he likes.”
The guard simply stared at her, and she sighed, pulled her high-heeled shoe back into place, and stood up from the stool. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
After giving her hands a quick wash, she took a deep breath to settle her nerves as she headed back out. “Prince Iman,” she said cordially when she reached him. “Would you like me to turn the air off, or simply turn it down?”
Again, he stared at her with that strange smile on his sensual lips.
“Right. Well, I’ll turn it down for you.” Leaning over his chair, she turned the knob all the way to the right. “If you want to turn it back on again, turn this knob to the left.” Looking down to make sure that he understood, she realized that she was right between his legs.
There was something hungry in his gaze.
Sudden unreasoning panic hit her. Eyes wide, she pushed away and took a step back. The men around her chuckled, and she shook her head.
That was it. She’d had enough. She wasn’t their entertainment. As she opened her mouth to tell them off, a loud explosion interrupted her, and the whole plane veered to the left.
With a gasp, she lost her balance and fell right into the royal lap.
“What is that?” one of the guards demanded as he slid in his seat toward the window to look out. “What is that?” he repeated, his body tense as he stared outside.
“Please remain calm,” she said in her best professional voice as she hastily scrambled off the prince’s lap. Avoiding eye contact with any of them, she looked out the window and saw in horror that flames were dancing on the wing of the plane.
At least the plane didn’t drop like a rock, but its flight remained unsteady, jouncing and dipping as she struggled to get to the cockpit door. Picking up the phone, she punched the button to reach the flight crew. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve lost control of the stabilizer,” Zane’s voice crackled grimly in her ear. “Get everyone ready for a crash landing.”
Trembling, she switched the phone to “cabin” and said in the flat “recorded” voice she’d learned to put on, “Please remain calm. We are experiencing a mechanical failure, and we’re going in for an emergency landing.” She replaced the phone in the cradle and headed back to her seat. A sudden drop had her gripping the back of the seats as her jaw slammed painfully shut. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out and raised her voice to be heard above the tumult. “Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position, and make sure your seat belt is buckled. Please remain calm until the pilot provides further instructions.” She winced mentally. The speech had been automatic, drilled into her for potential emergencies in the commercial flights she’d commonly served. This plane didn’t have tray tables.
Panic erupted in the passenger cabin as the two standing bodyguards dove into their seats and everyone scrambled for their seat belts. Only the prince seemed to remain calm.
Natalie took her seat in the back and buckled up. Gripping the crossover straps in the jump seat with white-knuckled hands, she closed her eyes.
She was only twenty-three. She was too young to die, and what would become of her mother?
If she died today, her mother would quit fighting the cancer. She’d have nothing left to live for.
Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Surprise Heir (Karawi Sheikhs Book One) from
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com