Home > The Prince's Resistant Lover

The Prince's Resistant Lover
Author: Elizabeth Lennox

Elizabeth Lennox - The Prince's Resistant Lover

The Prince's Resistant Lover
Elizabeth Lennox



Chapter 1

Wyndi Carmichael held her breath as the shockingly tall, scary man walked into the cheap, greasy restaurant down by the docks. He sat down at a table in her section, picked up the plastic covered menu and surveyed the options.

He definitely didn’t “fit” with the normal crowd that patronized this greasy spoon diner.

She watched him carefully, instantly suspicious as she wiped her hands nervously down the not-terribly-clean red apron tied around her waist. The man was tall and elegant, with a spooky sort of power emanating from him. His black eyes surveyed the restaurant like he owned it, as well as all of the other patrons. His hawk-like nose and straight jaw added more than a touch of danger to his appearance. There was no way he could be considered handsome, but he was crazy attractive. There was a raw edge to him that was… enticing – on many levels – which doubled his dangerous quality.

Wyndi approached his table warily, not sure what to expect. He was dressed too expensively to be in the same socioeconomic class as their normal customers and his eyes were almost restless, as if he were looking for someone. Or maybe waiting for someone?

She wasn’t sure. But he was in her station, so she walked over to his table. She couldn’t bring forth her normal smile, but she aimed for a semblance of polite instead of her normal, overt friendliness. She liked people, found them fascinating. Which was one of the reasons she was so good at her job. Her tips as a waitress were above the norm, but even on the rare occasions when she earned a higher than average tip, the amount wasn’t a whole lot. At this diner in this part of town, people didn’t make gobs of money like those on Wall Street. They didn’t wear the latest fashions and they definitely didn’t have wine with their meals. A beer was typical on payday, water the day before when money was tight.

So why was this guy – wearing a suit that probably cost more than the entire monthly income of the combined other patrons – sitting in a booth, looking expectantly in her direction?

Wyndi walked over to the table, pretending that her fingers weren’t trembling as she dug in her apron for her pen and order pad. “What would you like today?” she asked, standing farther away from his booth than she normally would. Generally, she rested a hip or thigh against the table, sort of connecting in a way to the diners. But this man was terrifying. His piercing gaze generated the sense of menacing power. His black eyes looked over at her – perhaps through her – assessing.

Tamar looked up and was startled to see the delicate features of a lovely creature looking back at him. Her blue eyes and thick blond curls were surprisingly beautiful. She had a wide mouth with sensuous lips that she was biting with her pretty, white teeth. But what caught his attention more were the frightened blue eyes looking back at him.

He normally didn’t have that effect on women. They flocked to him, inviting him to play the mating game. In his experience, most of them hoped it would land them an expensive trinket; the more ambitious sought the prestigious title of wife. This woman’s blue eyes were wary, as if she could sense the power he wielded and was afraid of it.

Why this lovely woman would be so nervous was a mystery, but he was intrigued. “What would you suggest?” he asked, fascinated by the flare of her irises and the catch in her breath. His body responded in kind, his mind considering all the ways in which he would like to bite that full, lower lip himself. Among other, delectable, parts of her body.

Wyndi noticed the flare of his nostrils, the heat emanating from those black, mysterious eyes and wanted to run away, to hide somewhere until this disturbing man was gone. He scared her right down to her bones, and she wasn’t one of those people who liked taunting danger or poking the bear. This man definitely couldn’t be considered a bear though. A lion, she thought with increasing shivers of awareness that she worked hard to suppress. It wasn’t that she thought he might know of her secret mission. As she looked into his eyes, she suspected that he might know everything else. Which was much, much worse.

She pulled her eyes away, shoving her hands into her pockets. “There’s a great burger joint three doors down.”

Tamar laughed softly at her ‘recommendation’, surprised that she was not only keeping her distance, but that she was trying to get him out of her restaurant. “I’ve heard that the food here is quite delicious,” he lied without remorse. He was here in this establishment only because his technicians had traced the signal of a hacker to this address. It was only serendipitous that he’d found this angel among the workers here.

She blinked at his formal language, not sure what to make of him. He definitely didn’t belong here. This was a blue collar neighborhood. The patrons here were the rough and tumble types that would grab a quick burger along with several beers after a tough day working on the docks. This man looked like he should be in a board room, not sitting in the control box of a bucket loader. She would wager that he hadn’t ever gotten his hands dirty. He probably wouldn’t do very well in a fist fight either, even though his shoulders looked broad and durable enough underneath the extremely fine fabric of his suit.

Wyndi shrugged her shoulders as if the food were passably good. “You don’t look like the burger and beer type of guy,” she came back, ready to dismiss him.

“Perhaps you and I could have dinner tonight and discuss the kind of guy I am,” he offered, fascinated by this nervous creature. In a flash, he knew that this beautiful blond with the wary blue eyes would be his next lover. He rubbed his chin, calculating in his mind how long it would take him to have her purring, begging for his touch.

Wyndi gasped, shocked by how forward he was. “I don’t think so,” she countered. “Are you going to order something? If not, I have several other tables that need attention.”

Tamar chuckled, watching her intently. Challenge accepted, my beauty, he thought in his mind. “Bring me the house specialty,” he told her, handing the slightly sticky, plastic covered menu back to her.

Wyndi stared back at him, trying to figure him out. Who did he think he was? House specialty? It was a corner diner catering to the working class, not the Ritz. They didn’t have a house specialty. But instead of arguing with him, she shrugged one shoulder, ignored the menu since it was supposed to go on the rough, wooden holders on the table by the window, and turned on her running shoe clad heel. He wanted the house specialty? She’d give him something special, she thought with a smile filled with delight. He couldn’t see her, thankfully, but she wrote something on her ordering pad then snapped it onto the metal order wheel, spinning it so that Billy, the fry cook today, could see her order.

With that done, she moved around to her other tables, smiling and greeting the guests. She filled up their coffee or water and completely ignored the man at the table, who was now talking on his cell phone. She tried to eavesdrop, not caring that it was rude. She just wanted to understand why he was here. It was so strange. But he was speaking in a language she couldn’t understand, so she moved away, intent on leaving him alone as much as possible.

When Billy called out that his order was ready, she moved back to the kitchen and smiled in anticipation. Carrying the heavy plate over to the table, she set it all down in front of him along with a large pitcher of water and a glass.

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