Princes always knew how to treat someone like royalty — Irene, in particular. Suddenly they were on their knees, begging to be ruled. But in the presence of others, they were all painfully dull and slaves to routine (thankfully there was a lovely waitress to keep her occupied). She never could pass up on a party though. Everything that was to come after would be the real fun. She had big plans for herself here in Dubai; and from the sounds of things, she wasn't the only one. There was talk of another Londoner amidst them.

Tonight, her appearance was nothing less than exotic. Hair pinned to an intricate perfection, dressed in a wine red Christian Dior gown with a thigh-high leg slit, and her black Louboutins, naturally. And it was not only the case in places like Dubai, but it wouldn't be biased to say she was a striking woman. She knew that and played it to her advantage. It seemed to be working as well as ever. Irene turns at the call, knowing almost instantly who all the gossip was about, besides herself.

"It's a party, isn't it? It would be rude not to." She flashes a dangerous smile, slipping her hand over his arm. "I thought no one would ever ask." With that tone and her eyes set on his, her meaning should be clear, you're different and I like that.