Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Again, the same thoughts fleeted in her mind—-
Was this really happening? Why was this happening? Was she really letting this happen?
But these thoughts were like the softest of clouds, barely making any impression on her passion-clouded senses. And when he joined her on the couch, her arms instinctively looped around his neck, the weight of his body deliciously heavy and powerful—-
“No need to formally announce me,” they both heard a dark drawl from the outside. “I’ll simply barge in like usual.” The doors opened soon after, leaving Harper frozen in shock under the sheikh as she found herself staring straight into the surprised eyes of Khalil’s cousin, Tarif.
“Lueta,” Khalil cursed in a growl.
A moment later, and Harper was shoving the sheikh off her with a mortified gasp. Reality had settled in with a sickening crash, and she was aghast at how far she had let things go between them.
“Apologies, anisdi.” Tarif had the grace to look discomfited as Harper hurriedly tried to button her blouse with clumsy fingers.
“Let me.” Khalil’s voice was gentle but his touch was firm as he peeled her fingers away and replaced them with his own. Harper stood stiffly, feeling even more humiliated when he made short work of her buttons. It just showed how little affected he was by what happened, while she on the other hand—-
Despair tightened in her throat. Stupid. God, she was so stupid. Why had she let him kiss and touch her so?
As soon as the sheikh finished with the last button of her blouse, she quickly walked away, head held high even though she couldn’t quite meet the other sheikh’s gaze.
She was never, never coming back to Ramil again.
The door slammed shut behind her, and Khalil’s breath hissed out.
Tarif swiftly raised his hands in admission of his guilt. “I am sorry, my brother. I wouldn’t have come in if I had known she was with you.”
He nodded curtly. “But from now on, knock.” Because even though the way Harper Griffiths avoided his gaze told him she didn’t want anything more to do with Khalil – she wasn’t going to have her way. He wouldn’t let her. When he said she was hers, he meant it.
Tarif claimed the seat across the couch. “Are congratulations in order?”
“It will be.”
The other sheikh raised an eyebrow. “But you’ve told her at least?”
Khalil grimaced.
Tarif was incredulous. “But you were already kissing her—-”
“I was...distracted.”
There was a moment of silence, and then his cousin started to laugh.
“Nothing about this is funny,” Khalil said stiffly.
Tarif didn’t even bother dignifying the words with an answer. Khalil wasn’t the Emir Sheikh simply because he was Prince Khalid’s only son. Tarif and his other cousins had only chosen to serve him because they knew no one loved their nation more than Khalil did. Khalil’s entire life had been about serving Ramil, and Tarif could not remember the last time his cousin had allowed anything to distract him from his duties—-
Until Harper Griffiths.
He had always privately thought that the American woman would make a good match for the king, and now Tarif had no doubts at all. Harper was good for Khalil, if only to remind his cousin that there was life beyond the dictates of the throne.
Glancing at the sheikh, he said conversationally, “I once told Altair that you must have such moments, too, but he didn’t believe me.”
Khalil frowned. “What moments?”
“Where you let dick win over your mind.”
Chapter Three
“Can’t I just stay in my room, please?” Harper stopped pacing the length of her father’s room to throw another desperate look at Howard. “I’m not the hero, anyway, so I don’t understand why I need to be here.”
“Because your name was included in the invitation,” her father answered simply, “and so it is only polite for us to both heed the king’s request for our presence.”
“Well, he’s not my king,” she muttered.
Howard frowned.
Harper felt defensive. “But it’s true, isn’t it? I’m a citizen of the United States of America, not the kingdom of Ramil. So I am not lawfully bound—-”
“And what about your honor?”
She knew it would come to that. “It’s just an invitation! How can turning down his invitation to dinner ‘besmirch’—-” Harper couldn’t help sarcastically making quotation marks in the air. “—-my honor?”
“Because I say so, and that is final.”
Howard’s grim tone put her in the same mood, and she growled, “I hate it when you’re stubborn like this.”
“Back at you, child,” he growled back.
Father and daughter scowled at each other, but their staring contest was interrupted when one of the palace maids knocked respectfully on their door, saying in hushed tones that dinner was about to start.
“You’re coming,” Howard said warningly, “and that’s final.”
And so she did, not because she was terrified of her father at this age (well, she was, just a little), but mostly because she loved him too much to disrespect him. Also, this was a dinner that the palace was hosting specifically for her father. It would look bad for Howard if she wasn’t by his side when receiving his accolades.