Fighting With the Infuriating Prince by Elizabeth Lennox Page A

her, there was no way he was letting her go. 
    “Princess Jalayla bin Faisal of Tularia, at your service,” she replied mockingly.  She even added in a little curtsy, just for effect.  “And who might be the man who is assaulting me?” she demanded.  She recognized him, of course.  This man was in the news much too often for her not to know who he was.  She hadn’t recognized him when he’d walked in and snapped an order at her, but as soon as she’d seen his face, she’d known who he was. 
    “Crown Prince Tasir Al Sharhi of Lurasa,” he came right back and his eyes skimmed up and down her figure with thoroughness.  “So you’re the little Jalayla,” he commented, moving closer but not releasing her arm. 
    Her eyes flared heatedly with his words and his continued hold onto her person.  “I’m not little!”
    His eyes flashed right back, standing so close that his shoes were almost touching hers.  “You’re little, and you’re in danger of angering me, little one.”
    Her spine stiffened with those words.  “Oh, and what are you going to do?  Hit me?  Are you such a big, mean man that you can’t handle a woman’s harsh words or honest opinion?”
    He moved even closer, a full head taller than her, but she wasn’t backing down.  “You would be wise to watch your tongue,” he warned, his voice soft and threatening.
    She poked a finger in the middle of his chest, ignoring his words, knowing that she was courting danger but unable to stop herself.  “I know the kind of man you are.”  She jerked her arm but he still wouldn’t release her.  “You’re a big bully.  You think that your height and your muscles make you stronger.  But you can’t rely on that all the time, you big oaf.  At some point, intelligence is going to be required.  And since you’re severely lacking in that arena, you’re going to fail.”
    Tasir had never met a man or a woman with the courage to question his intelligence.  Hell, he’d never had anyone question him at all.  “Would you care to put it to the test?”
    She glared up at him, ignoring the crick in her neck.  “I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.”
    There was a noise outside of the salon and he dropped her arm only moments before their fathers stepped into the room.  Jalayla gave him one more fulminating glare before she turned to smile sweetly at her father as if nothing was bothering her in any way.  Kissing his cheek, she walked out of the room, ignoring the tall, irritating man she knew was still glaring at her. 
     
    She dressed carefully for dinner that night.  Already, she was regretting her outburst with Prince Tasir.  Jalayla had no idea what had gotten into her.  Sure, the man had snapped an order at her.  But that was no reason to toss out insults.  A simple, civil word explaining her title would have sufficed.  She might have even gone so far as to gently reprimand him for the way he was speaking to the servants, but to call him names?  That was beneath her. 
    She pulled her hair back so that it was smoothly out of her face, clipped it behind her and chose a blue dress to help calm her nerves.  And hopefully his as well. 
    Jalayla stepped into the dining room that night and took a deep breath, bracing herself to face that man once again. At least her father and his would be with them this time.  That would definitely temper their attitudes towards one another. 
    She spotted him immediately then looked around for her father and his.  Unfortunately, the older men had not entered the dining room yet.  Briefly, she considered turning around and waiting until the others could join the two of them, but Prince Tasir stopped her with his knowing gaze before she could move.  She was trapped!  His eyes moved up and down her figure, his gaze daring her to step into the dining room. 
    Taking another deep breath, she stepped further into the room.  “Good evening, Your Highness.  I would like to apologize for my