“Hello,” Ziva answered her hotel telephone from her sleep. Very few people had her hotel phone number, she wondered who would be calling her so late.
“Open the door,” a baritone irritated voice instructed.
“Your Majesty?” Ziva asked, surprised.
“Open the door,” he instructed slowly, emphasising every word. He was already irritated and her addressing him like that was tipping him over.
Ziva looked at the clock, it was almost midnight. “It’s late, we can talk tomorrow” she suggested. She was still embarrassed by her actions and did not feel like facing him again.
“Open the damn door or I will get the manager to do it,” he snapped at her, startling Ziva who immediately got off the bed and opened the door wondering what had gotten into him.
“Your Majesty?” she asked, looking confu
