Emerald St. Clair's POV

"Okay, we're down to the last shots," the photoshoot director announced. "You're doing great, Emerald."

I nodded and continued to pose in front of the camera for the Orsini Wines shoot.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Al-Farsi talking to two strangers in the gazebo while shooting a glance in my direction.

I bet they are talking about me.

"You are frowning, Emerald," The photographer cautioned me as he slightly lowered his camera away from his face.

"Sorry," I apologized softly, focusing my attention back on the shoot and away from those men in the gazebo.

He smiled at me. "Don't worry, let's continue."

I smiled back at him. I have worked with him on several occasions in the past. That's why I could probably say that. I kind of know him, and we're sort of friends.

So, I gave my best in the last part of the shoot, giving them everything I could offer as a model.

"That's a wrap!" The director said cheerfully after a moment.

A smile broke on my face. "Thanks for today."

I saw the crew start to pack up while the photoshoot director was busy discussing something with a group of people.

I was about to walk back inside the tent to change my clothes and remove my heavy make-up when the photographer stopped me in my tracks as he blocked my way.

I gave him a friendly smile. "You need something?"

He cleared his throat. I could see how his Adam's apple moved. "Uh, I just want to ask if you have plans today."

"Why do you ask?"

He looked at me straight in the eye with a nervous laugh. "Let's grab some coffee."

The smile was still fixed on my face while I peered at the men at the gazebo. I was not surprised when I saw Al-Farsi walking in my direction with a scowl on his face.

I need to send this guy away before that jealous king arrives and starts creating havoc here. The last thing I want is unwanted gossip from the people around us.

I looked back at this man in front of me with a slightly forced smile. "Uhm...about that--"

"Habibti." I closed my eyes when I heard that familiar endearment behind me. I could almost hear the annoyance in his voice.

I didn't bother to turn around and look at him. My focus was on the photographer in front of me, watching the confusion on his face while looking guardedly at the man approaching us.

I felt a hand snake possessively around my waist as it drew me closer to a body. "Are you done with your shoot, baby?"

I looked at him with a tight smile. "Yes."

He smiled lovingly in my direction while kissing the top of my head. "Good job, baby. I am so proud of you." I almost rolled my eyes. He's playing this fake boyfriend thing to perfection, isn't he? I saw him giving the man in front of him a cold stare. "Aren't you going to introduce us, habibti?"

"Peter, this is Khalil Al-Farsi—"

"Emerald's boyfriend," he completed for me while extending his hand for a handshake. I couldn't miss the way he emphasized the word 'boyfriend.' "Nice to meet you."

The shock on the photographer's face was noticeable as he paled visibly. He reluctantly took the offered hand and shook it briefly. "Peter Hales. Are you the crown prince of Saqr?"

"Soon to be crowned king, actually," Al-Farsi replied grimly.

I only managed to shake my head in disbelief while Peter gasped at his announcement. "Oh...I see Y-your Majesty. Excuse me. I need to put away my camera set-up."

We watched him walk away from us, and then I noticed that the two strangers Al-Farsi had with a while ago were now approaching us.

The man wearing a casual outfit gave us undisguised interest with his pitch-black eyes. "Buongiorno, piccola." I raised an eyebrow in his direction. From the look on his face, this man was a charmer. He waved his hand in my direction. "Marco Orsini, at your service."

My eyes widened. So, he was the owner of this vineyard? I was about to introduce myself to him when the other man, who was as equally handsome as Mr. Orsini and Al-Farsi, wearing an expensive handmade suit, extended his hand in my direction. He has this devilish smirk on his face. "Santi Marchesi, Signorina. May I know the name of this beautiful lady who graces our presence today?"

I raised an eyebrow in his direction. This man was far worse than Marco Orsini when it came to his introduction. He was a total flirt. I couldn't miss the way Al-Farsi's eyes darkened at the man's debonair personality.

I was about to shake the offered hand in my direction when my fake boyfriend stopped my hand midway. I looked at him questioningly.

"Don't shake this man's hand," he informed with a grimace on his face. "This man has a contagious disease, habibti. You might get infected."

The man with the name Santi glared darkly at this soon-to-be-crowned king. "I have what?!" he asked dangerously. "Do you want me to put a bullet inside your head right now?"

"Try it," Al-Farsi challenged bravely.

I looked at Santi Marchesi with a horrified expression when he pulled out a gun that was tucked in his back trousers. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes at this moment. Just who the hell is this man? I automatically moved to Al-Farsi's side and clutched his arm. I glanced at the blank expression he had on his face.

Jesus, what's wrong with him? This man just pulled out his gun and was about to shoot at him, and yet he did not react at all. Why am I the one who was scared for his safety?

"Now, see here..." Marco broke the silence with a dry tone. "...there's no need for that, Santi. Put the gun down. I don't want to have a bloodbath in our vineyard." He looked at Santi with a dull look. "I don't want to get an earful from Francesca if you kill someone in our home. I will bury you alive in this vineyard, Santi, I am warning you."

The two of them have a staring contest, refusing to look away, while Al-Farsi and I look at them silently. After a moment, Santi looked away and put back his gun. He sighed dramatically while shaking his head. "Whatever, fucker. I need to go. I have a mistress that is warming my bed in Sicily right now. I'd rather leave and spend my time with her than with you guys."

"Thanks for the info," Marco called after him. "Until our next transaction, Santi."

"There will be no next time, moron," he answered back while continuing to walk away from us. "This is the last time I will help you with your lunatic plans."

We watched him get in his SUV in the driveway and leave the vineyard like a speeding devil. What a weird man, I thought inwardly.

Marco exhaled a loud breath. "Whew...now that the hot-headed gangster has left, we can enjoy the day," he looked at us expectantly. "Now that the photo shoot is done, what do you say about a tour of our vineyard? Or perhaps a wine tasting?"

"I'll pass on the wine tasting," Al-Farsi declined politely.

"What a pity. I think you will like wine tasting. Orsini Wines is known for having Sauvignon Blanc."

I smiled at him slightly. "Maybe next time, Mr. Orsini."

Dark eyes gleamed in our direction. I don't think I liked the way his eyes twinkled mischievously. "So, a vineyard tour it is then?"

I must admit that I was quite interested in the tour he was offering. I noticed my fake boyfriend was looking too. "Do you want to sightsee around the vineyard, my love?"

"Can we?" I looked up at him and I couldn't help the smile on my face. I had to admit that I was pretty excited by the thought of touring around this fabulous vineyard. I wanted to look around and take some photos for my social media accounts.

"If you want, habibti," he returned the smile, his cobalt eyes warmed like the summer sun. I could feel my heart skip a beat.

I noticed that our host was busy giving us an interesting look. I eyed him for a moment. There was something about him that spoke like he was having private thoughts about us. He was probably gauging my relationship with this soon-to-be-crowned king.

When he noticed that I was looking at him, he blanked the expression on his face and adopted this innocent persona that didn't fit him, in my opinion.

"Shall we?" said Mr. Orsini inviting us.

I looked down at my outfit and sighed. I can't by sightseeing around here looking like this. "Can I change my clothes before we start?"

"Of course. Take your time, piccola."

I gave them a short nod before going back to the makeshift tent to change into a more casual outfit. I removed my heavy makeup. It took me a couple of minutes before I emerged from the tent again.

"I'm ready."

Al-Farsi held out his hand in my direction. I looked at him for a moment before I found myself placing my hand in his. I think Marco Orsini muttered under his breath the words, 'Ah, young love.'

I glanced at the man in question, but he looked at me with those innocent dark eyes while giving me a friendly smile. I took a deep breath and let it go. This Italian billionaire was too cunning for my liking. I think he could get along with my equally devious grandfather.

He led the way while giving us a tour of their family's vast vineyard. I was surprised that he knew every detail of how their business worked. It seemed to me that I might have been mistaken in my first assumptions about this billionaire winemaker. There was more to him than the playful persona he let the world see.

I learned a great deal about making wines thanks to him. I noticed that my boyfriend remained silent by my side.

He probably felt that I was looking at him silently when he glanced down in my direction.

Are you okay? I mouthed at him while still holding hands as we followed Marco Orsini around the vineyard.

"Of course," he gave me a reassuring smile, squeezing my hand firmly.

I was not that convinced. I think there was something that was bothering him. I wanted to ask him, but I chose not to pry.

So we continued with the tour, silently listening intently to Marco Orsini as he explained how things worked and the correct way to age wine. He was in the middle of describing something when a beautiful woman approached us with a toddler in her arms who had been crying.

"Sorry for interrupting," the woman said with a troubled expression. She looked at Marco exasperatingly. "Audrianna is refusing to take her afternoon nap unless you read her favorite princess story."

I saw how Mr. Orsini shook his head while there was a fond smile playing on his lips. "Come here, Audrey," he plucked the toddler from the woman's arms. He looked at us with an adoring smile. "I'd like you to meet my lovely wife, Francesca, and our daughter Audrianna. Mia amore, this is Emerald St. Clair and His Highness, Prince Khalil of Saqr."

We exchanged pleasantries with his wife. Looking at Francesca Orsini, she seems like the type of woman who is graceful and well-mannered. It makes me wonder how the hell she managed to tame this devil who happened to be her husband.

I guess that love works oddly most of the time.

"I think I need to cut our tour short," I heard what Marco had been saying, dragging me back to the present time. "I need to put her to bed for her afternoon nap. Our daughter is a little princess but also a handful."

"Just like her father," Francesca supplied with a roll of her eyes.

Her husband threw a disapproving look in her direction. "That's not nice, Francesca mia."

She merely smiled. He was about to retort when the little girl in his arms spoke. "Sleepy, papa."

"Okay, princess," he said, tucking her in the crook of his shoulder. He looked at us apologetically. "I will make it up to you next time, I promise. If you have free time, just give me a call so we can continue with this tour."

"We will." For the first time, Al-Farsi spoke. I couldn't help but glance at his face. He still has this troubled expression on his face that made me curious about it. "Thank you for your time."

"Anytime," the Italian man replied. "Just don't forget that the invitation to my club is still open for you, Your Highness. Why don't you just think about it while exploring the vineyard."

A reluctant smile fitted my boyfriend's face. "My answer will still be the same. But thank you for the offer, though, and don't worry about us. We'll manage from here."

"All right," Marco nodded with a knowing smile on his face. "If you ever get lost, just give me a shout after some time and I can help you."

I raised an eyebrow in his direction without saying a word. It seemed to me that there was a double meaning to his words because his wife was blushing furiously.

"Marco..." his wife chided sternly.

"What?" The devil merely inquired innocently.

Francesca shook her head in resignation as they said goodbye to us. Once we were alone, I automatically faced Al-Farsi. "So, if you are not interested in the sightseeing, why bother agreeing in the first place?"

He blinked. He was taken aback by my words. I couldn't help but feel slightly defensive since I was not used to his silence. I was more comfortable dealing with his playful, dirty-mouthed character. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, looking away from his forceful gaze. "That is what it felt like. I mean, you were so silent. I don't think you were enjoying it."

A sheepish smile escaped his lips. He took my hands in his. "I am sorry if I gave you that impression a while ago, habibti. Believe me, I enjoy every moment I have with you. It's just... I don't know how to say this."

"Say what?" my forehead creased.

He took a deep breath while looking straight into my eyes. I could see the hesitation on his face. "Well..." he cleared his throat. Is he nervous? "...Uhm, I—ah, I want to ask you on a date if that's okay with you."

It was my time to blink repeatedly at his revelation. Did I hear him right? I was not sure if my ears were playing tricks on me. "D-did...you just ask me—?"

"Yes," he answered. "Will you?"

"When?"

He smiled at me nervously. "When you have free time."

"Okay."

He stared at me for a long moment as if his brain was having a hard time processing information. "Okay?" he repeated. "What do you mean 'okay'?"

I almost felt shy about answering him. "Okay, let's have a date after my next photo shoot."

The happiness that broke in his face was palpable. "Really?" He cradled my face with his palms and showered me with little kisses all over my face. "Oh, thank you. Thank you!"

I couldn't help but giggle. "Stop it." I tried to stop him but he was so damn happy. "I think someone is watching us from somewhere."

He finally stopped showering me with kisses and stared at me for a moment. His eyes shined so brightly. Our happiness was interrupted when his mobile suddenly rang. He took it out and frowned at the screen. "I am so sorry, my love, but I have to take this. It's Omar."

I nodded at him and watched him answer the phone call. I couldn't understand the words since he was speaking in his native language, but I could sense that it was not a good conversation since Al-Farsi was frowning throughout the phone call.

After some time, he disconnected the call. He once again had this troubled expression on his face.

"Problem?" I prodded softly.

He tucked some loose strands of hair behind my ear. There was a sad look in his eyes. "I need to go back to Saqr as soon as possible. My presence is needed back home. Do you want to come with me?"

"Will you stay there for a long time?"

He exhaled a deep breath. "I am not sure yet."

I shook my head warily. "Then, I cannot come with you. I have a scheduled photoshoot in New York in two days."

The anguish was visible in his expressive eyes. "I understand."

"When do you plan to fly back to Saqr?" I asked, trying to sound relaxed when deep inside, the thought of him leaving put a great sadness in my heart. When did I get used to having him always by my side?

"Tonight or tomorrow morning," he answered gloomily.

I tried to smile brightly in his direction. "Well, then I will just wait for your return to New York so we can have our date."

He nodded and smiled back, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I will miss you, habibti."

I gasped when he suddenly locked his arms around me. I felt him kiss my hair as if inhaling my scent. I found myself burying my face in his chest, placing my arms around his waist, and mumbling almost wordlessly. "I will miss you too..."