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)
A full itinerary had been prepared for the couple, but in the end, the sheikh and Harper spent the majority of their weeklong vacation locked inside their bedroom, emerging only to grab a quick bite before once again retiring.
To say that the sheikh was insatiable was a vast understatement, and even the word ‘beast’ no longer seemed sufficient. Experience and instinct had made the sheikh masterly skillful in the art of using dominance in the bedroom, with the sheikh knowing exactly how far he could push Harper past her limits without being in danger of abusing her. He knew when to command her and when to worship her, knew when she wanted to be his slut and when she wanted to be his queen.
It was terrifying really, the way the sheikh seemed to know her even better than Harper knew herself. If she could have foreseen this back then, it might have been enough for Harper to run away and never say ‘yes’ to his proposal.
But she hadn’t, and now it was too late.
She was dangerously, foolishly close to falling in love with the sheikh.
AS THE SHEIKH’S PRIVATE plane encountered turbulence while crossing the Mediterranean Sea, he closed his eyes, and less than a moment had passed before memories, too damn vivid against the monochromatic state of his existence, flashed behind his eyelids.
He remembered how she looked as they waved goodbye to the locals who had gone out of their way to take care of them in the few instances they had managed to leave their room. She had tears in her eyes, her nose red, her lips trembling. The sheikh had asked her about it, of course, and she had snapped at him. I have sensitive eyes, okay? They get easily irritated, is that a crime?
No, he had answered solemnly. What is a crime, however, is lying to your husband and king. He hadn’t let her answer after that, but instead hauled her into his arms as soon as the doors closed and the plane’s elevator started moving.
Are you crying because you’ll miss the place, he had asked.
His wife had hidden her face against the crook of his neck, mumbling, I’m crying because...I’ll miss you. Her fingers had then curled against his chest, gripping the thin cloth of his robe. I’ll miss who you were here.
Her words had clawed at his heart, catching him off guard. He had not expected her to confront the matter head on, but in hindsight he knew he should have. She was simply that kind of girl.
A girl who was as tough as she was fragile, a girl who loved fearlessly even when the men in her life could never be completely hers, a girl who deserved the right words from him—-
But the sheikh hadn’t been able to say them.
And so he had only kissed her, and as she kissed him back, she cried, and he had kissed her harder, his arms locking around her sweet body in a futile attempt to absorb her pain. They had made love after that, and it had been rougher than it usually was. Almost savage. Raw. Real.
A storm patch rocked the plane once more, and Harper stirred beside him, her brows furrowing in her sleep. A moment later, she snuggled closer to the sheikh, her body instinctively molding against his hardness. A sigh escaped her, and then her face relaxed as if being in contact with the sheikh was all she needed to feel safe...and loved.
The sheikh was neither blind nor stupid. He had seen – felt – how his Harper had changed. She was different with him now. It used to be that there had always been a distance between them, a part of herself that she kept out of his reach. But that distance was gone now.
He knew what he should do about it. This was a marriage of convenience, and it would not succeed if one of them forgot that. He knew he should remind her of this, subtly or directly – it didn’t matter as long as he made sure that she remembered why they had married.
If he had been an ordinary man, he could make himself forget the lessons his own life taught him. He could lie to himself, make himself believe that love existed and love could last. He could pretend that his mother hadn’t been a selfish bitch who had only given birth to him hoping she could be Ramil’s queen. He could pretend that his grandfather hadn’t been a bigot and a tyrant who treated his half-blood grandchild like trash, could pretend that his father hadn’t been so weak he had chosen a life of comfort over his own son.
If he had been an ordinary man, no risk was too great. He would give her – them – a chance. For Harper, he would take a fucking leap of faith, let himself believe that she would always love him, would never abandon him the way all the people who were supposed to love did.