Zayn wanted more than a glance.He wanted time—measured, intentional time—to study her, speak with her, learn the architecture of her mind.What did she think about over morning coffee?What books lined her shelves?What quiet ambitions lived behind those clear, intelligent eyes?
He wanted to know her preferences, her patterns, the rhythm of her voice when she was passionate about something.
He wanted to understand how someone so grounded could still hum with that kind of unspoken energy.
“Iloveyour jawline!”the makeup artist declared, appearing in Zayn’s field of vision with far too much enthusiasm—and a brush.
Zayn turned his head just slightly, his gaze landing on the man with the softness of velvet over steel.“Keep it simple,” he said.
There was no bite in his tone.It didn’t need one.The command was absolute.
“Fine,” Dan sighed, with a theatrical flourish that Zayn ignored.The man began sifting through powders and palettes with the focus of someone preparing for a war Zayn didn’t care to fight.
“We’ll go neutral,” Dan muttered.“Something natural and elegant.Regal but not frozen.”He held up a compact like a trophy.“This one will work.”
He stepped in and began dusting Zayn’s cheekbones with the reverence of a court painter.
“So,” Dan said casually, “you’re interested in Azlyn?”
“Who is Azlyn?”Zayn asked, tilting his head back as the artist tucked a tissue into the neckline of his dress shirt.
The man smirked as he dusted Zayn’s nose.“She’s the woman you were staring at just now.”The brush tapped Zayn’s forehead.“She’s also the brains behind this show.Azlyn and her team do the research for the interview questions.Olivia is merely the face.”He tilted his head and dusted Zayn’s chin.“She’s a pretty face!”The artist chuckled knowingly.“But she only reads the questions that Azlyn and her team prepare for her.”
“What surprises does she plan on throwing at me today?”Zayn asked.His staff had done a great job of researching the potential interviewers for this trip.Olivia had been one of the top ten.“The Olivia Show” produced a series of intellectual interviews with cerebral guests as well as lively chats with more flighty celebrities.The forum was exactly what the Lativa government needed.His father, Sheik Khal, was trying to negotiate a treaty between some very angsty world and regional leaders.Zayn had agreed to do the publicity tour that hopefully would translate into more power at the negotiating table in a couple of months.Zayn knew that the show also produced in-depth documentaries, which only added to the team’s panache in the world.Oliva had become known as the woman with the powerful voice that got her interviewees to admit their deepest, darkest secrets.
“Oh, she’ll definitely zing you!”the artist chirped, adding a touch of pink to his cheekbones.Pink?Seriously?
Zayn leaned forward to check his reflection in the mirror.Thankfully, the pink added a hint of color, but nothing outrageous.
Zayn leaned back and sighed, settling back into the chair.“What has she dug up about me?”
Dan tapped Zayn’s other cheek with the makeup brush, and he turned obediently.“Oh, she won’t come up with anything sketchy about you, my dear,” the artist laughed, dusting Zayn’s forehead now.“She’ll focus on questions that are important to Olivia’s viewers.”
“Like what?”
Dan grinned and stepped back.“No idea!Azlyn is truly brilliant.”He whisked the tissue away from Zayn’s neck.“Did you know that she went to Stanford for her undergrad degree?”At Zayn’s wary expression, the guy nodded.“Yep.And she reads everything she can get her hands on!She really is a freaking genius.”The man chuckled and spun around.“If you have something to hide, she’s going to find it.”
Zayn’s curious expression shifted to eager, some might even say predatory, anticipation.He stood up, reviewed the light dusting of powder on his face and nodded his approval.The man hadn’t gone overboard with the powders and colors.Good enough.
When he returned to the studio, his eyes automatically moved to find the woman in question.Azlyn.What an unusual name.But then, the woman herself was unusual.He’d never met a woman who looked so enticing with such little effort.Maybe some of the women in his past had been as lovely, but they hadn’t trusted in their natural beauty, so he’d never seen them without a great deal of makeup on.
“Your Highness!”the blond host spun around as soon as she spotted him.
Inwardly, Zayn sighed.Outwardly, he forced a polite smile.“I’m ready when you are,” he said.
The woman’s smile brightened and he saw why Olivia was such a celebrity.The woman had an air about her, a charm that seemed to light her up from within.
Still, he looked for Azlyn and found her bent over a beaten, wooden desk, one hand poised over a laptop.The woman wasn’t looking at the screen though.He watched her for a long moment, capturing her gaze.It might have only been a moment, but he couldn’t look away.Didn’t want to.Azlyn had his full attention.
“Your Highness?”Olivia prompted, standing awkwardly on the stage.The camera crew worked quickly to set up the lights and camera angles while Zayn suppressed a groan of irritation, moving to the second chair.There was an electronic screen behind the chairs and Zayn knew that it would be used to put up images of whatever he and Olivia were discussing during the interview.
Another crew member approached, clipped the tiny microphone to Zayn’s lapel with careful, practiced fingers, and quickly stepped aside—aware, perhaps, that the prince’s attention was not his to interrupt.
Zayn hadn’t looked away from her.
Azlyn sat with her laptop open, eyes cast downward, posture composed.She was making a valiant effort to appear absorbed, but the rhythm of her glances betrayed her.Every few seconds, her gaze flicked upward, seeking confirmation.Measuring the weight of his attention.
He let her find it.
