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The Wounded Lioness and the Playboy Prince.

1

Portofino, a fishing village on the Italian coastline in the province of Genoa, was out of the way but convenient for a girl who had wanted nothing more than to escape the real world and lick her wounds in private. It had been over a year since she had arrived there and now, she was the proud owner of a little cottage on the terrace with a wild garden and a view of the azure ocean. Beautiful. Her safe haven. Here, she had made a few choice friends and had managed to remain emotionally unattached.

The weather suited her too. Hot and sultry as it was in towns that existed near the Gulf of Genoa during the summer. Italy had always been at the top of her list of places to visit but when she had made that list, she had had no idea that it would one day become her country of refuge. She breathed in the air coming in from the Ligurian Sea and shook away the familiar homesickness that threatened to engulf her.

This was home now. This small town with its cheerful faces and the promise of a fresh start had drawn her in inextricably. She was happy here. As happy as she could be. Her name was Jasmine Khan and a year ago, she had made an oath to never allow anybody to get close enough to hurt her again.

So far, things were going exactly according to her tastes. But there was restlessness pervading her soul now. Finally, she was ready to go out in the world and do something that she had always wanted to do. She was going to make money. Lots and lots of money. Money meant power and a person like Jasmine needed power more than anything else. If Allah was willing, that seat of power was going to be hers very soon.

She grabbed her iPad and checked her reflection in the hallway mirror before heading over to the trattoria where the agent she had contacted was waiting for her. The walk down to the restaurant took about three minutes and she inhaled deeply when she reached there, reminding herself to have faith and success would kiss her feet soon. This was it. She was going to go global. Not as Jasmine Khan but under the pseudonym of Crystal Reynolds. The Reynolds was from Ryan Reynolds who was one of her favourite actors.

The trattoria was not very large but it was designed beautifully and served amazing food so there was never a lack of customers. Her gaze skimmed over all the people and dismissed the familiar faces before landing on a guy seated at the far end. He was using a tablet and was dressed casually in jeans and a pale purple shirt. The table he had chosen overlooked the bright, blue ocean. Jasmine relaxed and made her way over to him.

Her agent, Alexander Tory, was someone she had never seen or spoken to over the phone but had only communicated with via emails. His emails had always been warm and void of the impersonal tone she usually encountered from literary agents and she wondered whether he was also like that in person.

Alex looked up from the tablet, giving the girl who had come to stand at his table a once-over. Then he smiled and it reached his grey eyes. He stood up and extended a hand. "Jasmine Khan? Pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Alex."

She shook his hand, smiled slightly and took her seat opposite him.

"I didn't order anything,' Alex said as he settled back in his wooden chair. "Thought I'd wait."

She studied him for a few seconds, noting how handsome and tall he was. "How did you know who I was?" she asked him and waved at a waitress. The waitress held up a finger, indicating the customer she was serving and Jasmine nodded and turned back to Alex.

Alex was caught staring at her and he averted his eyes quickly, feeling his face flush a little. "Don't take this the wrong way but you look Middle Eastern, not at all Italian," he said, attempting an unaffected smile.

"I suppose I do," she replied. "Are you familiar with the Middle Eastern culture, Alex?"

He nodded. "Sort of," he said, looking at the waitress now as she approached their table with a friendly smile. "My best friend is Middle Eastern."