Movie Star Prince - Completed.

Epilogue

Three years later

"Sweetheart, you need to get a wiggle on," Heather called out, dressed and raring to go.

"When did you get so pushy?" Ziyad asked, walking into their bedroom, from the bathroom, fully dressed, except for the loose hanging bow tie. She crossed the room and focused on the tie to have it done up and looking pretty, in a perfect bow. "There, all done." She stepped back, running a critical eye over him. Heather stepped towards him, brushing hands over his jacket shoulder,s pulled the jacket down, and once more stepped back, smiling. "Stunning, as always. The sexist male of the year," she purred proudly.

"Who's a happily married man." He reminded her, closing the distance, placing hands on her waist, and hauling her against him, dark golden eyes melting her insides with his smouldering gaze.

"Oh, no, you don't, you're not messing up my makeup." Smiling, eyes devilish, he dipped his dark head, brushing her painted lips. "Ziyad," she moaned. He growled deep in his throat. "Sorry, Saleem," she whispered against his lips, holding his face in her hands. "How about just my man?"

Laughing, he pulled out of her hold. "And don't you forget it," he ran an appreciative gaze over her. "You are the most perfect model for Jasmine's clothes. She loves the fact you wear her clothes."

"Just because you can't brag about your sister." Heather skimmed her hands over the beautiful gown. She had outdone herself again.

"And I don't remember you being this eager last time we went to a premiere."

"Ah, but I was just a proxy."

"Never," he growled. "You were always my girl." She spun on him, interested.

"Always?" she dared. He came to stand at her side, placing a hand on her waist.

"Always."

She turned to him, looking up into his loving, warm gaze that swept over her, warming her heart, that beat, like a drum, in her chest. Her tongue darted out across her lips, drawing his gaze that darkened with desire. "So you made up all that rubbish about me being your protection against all those fans?"

"A perfect way to keep you at my side, though you made it hard, Silvia. Then to make me believe you were getting married, not your brother."

"Hey," she protested, tapping his arm in warning. "I won't wear that one," she poked a finger into his chest. "You came up with that one all by yourself."

"Do you have any idea how much torture you put me through thinking I was lusting after a nearly married woman?"

"So that explains all those near kisses I missed out on."

His face dipped closer, his lips nearly touching hers, and hovered. "You mean these?" he dared to tease.

Her hand clamped on the nape of his neck and pulled him down, his lips touching hers. "Makeup," he reminded her.

"Stuff my makeup. I rather have you." His hand drew her up hard against him, pressing against his well-toned body. Hers rejoiced at the feel of him. He rocked her world, yet felt so secure and loved.

"And you do often," he brushed softly against her inviting lips. "However, we don't have time for this. Fix what damage I have caused while I check over everything." She eyed him off strangely. He turned her around and sent off with a pat on her bottom that she swatted away. "Time for cameras and action."

"Hey," she protested. "And I am not on one of your sets. So after tonight, we head back home?" she asked, heading back to the bathroom and fixing up the damage that had been done to her lipstick.