Movie Star Prince - Completed.

Chapter Twenty-One

No. Ziyad would've recognised her. He hated feeling like this, suspicious of anyone who crossed their paths and there were plenty, being who he was.

No, it was just plain jealousy.

"Is it possible to see your work?" a brunette asked.

"Sorry, I am having a break," he smiled. The brunette pouted. Sasha stood and unzipped his leather jacket, showing off his very board-ripped chest that the shirt outlined.

"Enough ladies, time to leave," he stated. They all turned towards Saleem, except for the blonde, who glared at her.

Heather clasped Ziyad's hand as he stiffened.

Ziyad shrugged. "Sorry, he is boss." With a flick of her hair, the blonde stormed off, saying he didn't know what he was missing out on, hips swinging. Ziyad turned his back on them and turned towards Heather.

"Thank you for being so patient," he whispered, placing his hand on hers.

"They're your fans. They love you for what you do. I can understand that and you're very generous with your time."

"However, some are pushy. Take no notice. The only lips I would touch are yours."

Sasha coughed. "Shall I leave?"

"No," Heather leaned back. "We are sharing coffee." She reached up and wiped away the lipstick from Ziyad's cheek. "Not really your colour." She leaned back in her seat and eyed them both. "What was so top secret you couldn't share with me?"

Ziyad sighed. "I would tell you later, when we go back to the room, let's just enjoy this," he said as they placed food on the table, toasted sandwiches with bowls of hot chips. Heather couldn't help herself and pinched one, dipping it into tomato sauce that she munched on. "So what did you buy?" he asked with interest.

Her entire face lit up as she told him. "Yours is up in the room," she informed him with delight.

He blinked, astonished. "You bought me something?" She nodded. Lightly, he touched her cheek. "You didn't have to do that," he whispered.

"I know but I wanted to, just something small."

Enlightenment entered his eyes. "My love, you don't have to do that, and as long as you buy from your heart."

"Oh," she smiled, "I did." His eyes darkened and intensified. "With a sense of honour." His brow raise, looking not so sure then smiled.

"Then I am sure to I would love what you have brought me."

Laughing, she leaned across and kissed him. "Not so sure about that. Oh," she pulled back, dug around in her handbag, and remove a black plastic bag, handing it over to Sasha. "I couldn't resist it."

Surprised, Sasha took the offered bag and removed a black t-shirt with writing across, and held it up. He laughed and turned towards Ziyad.

Across the front, written in white 'I'm Russian. Bad. Mean. And Tattooed. Don't mess with me.'

"I thought I would advertise you," she laughed.

"Only in Russia and they would challenge me."

"Oops, okay, don't wear it in Russia," she advised.

"What about me?" Ziyad complained. "Do I get a t-shirt that says I am a badass?"

Sadly, she shook her head. "Sorry baby, you're not Russian," Sasha said something in Russian. Ziyad grunted. "What now, your speaking in code. Hello, can't speak Russian here, guys."

"We know," they said in unison. She eyed them both off then her eyes widened as Sasha tossed off his leather jacket and began stripping off his shirt exposing his well-developed and toned chest and six-pack abs with tattoos down one side, only to pull on the t-shirt she bought him that hugged his body like a second skin. He shrugged his jacket back on, then retook his seat.