Had she said that aloud? Oops. “I, ah…” She swallowed and then squared her shoulders. “Prince Qadir,” she said as she walked toward him and held out her hand. “Very nice to meet you. I’m Maggie Collins. We’ve been corresponding via e-mail.”

He took her hand in his and shook it. “I’m aware of that, Ms. Collins. I believe my last note to you said I preferred to work with your father.”

“Yet the ticket was in my name,” she said absently as she dropped her arm to her side, aware that even though she was five-ten, he was still much taller than her.

“I sent you each a ticket. Did he not use his?”

“No, he didn’t.” She glanced out the window at the formal garden below. “My father…” She cleared her throat and returned her attention to the prince. This was not the time to get sad again. She was here to do business. “My father died four months ago.”

“My condolences.”

“Thank you.”

Qadir glanced at his watch. “A car will return you to your hotel.”

“What?” Outrage chased away any threatening tears. “You’re not even going to talk to me?”

“No.”

Of all the annoying, arrogant, male ways to react. It was just so typical. “I’m more than capable of doing the job.”

“I don’t doubt that, Ms. Collins. However, my arrangement was with your father.”

“We were in business together.” The last year of her father’s life, she’d run the car-restoration business he’d started years ago. And lost it, although that hadn’t been because of anything she’d done wrong. The medical bills had been massive. In the end she’d had to sell everything to pay them, including the business.

“This project is very important to me. I want someone with experience.”

She wanted to deck him. Given the fact that she was female and he was well-bred, she could probably get one shot in, what with the element of surprise on her side. But to what end? Hitting a member of the royal family was hardly the way to get the job.