Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Best you forget her,” Altair said. “She is not worth your time.”
“Anisah is a good woman, Tarif,” Malik insisted. “She does not deserve whatever it is you’re planning.”
“I understand, brothers.” Tarif’s tone was of utter politeness, and at the sound of it, the four other sheikhs winced in shared regret.
Well, that was it then.
They had just turned Anisah into a challenge, and everyone in this room knew how much Tarif loved challenges. It was what Tarif lived for, and there was nothing he would not do to conquer one.
Chapter One
Present time
It was almost three in the afternoon by the time Anisah Kahveci came out of the library, her departure made necessary by the not-so-subtle grumbling of her stomach. After nodding courteously towards the guards stationed outside the doors, she headed towards the stairs at a brisk pace, fully intending to have her midday meal and make it back in under half an hour. With her presentation only a week away, she still had to—-
Oh.
Anisah ducked her head as soon as she caught sight of Sheikh Tarif Al-Atassi coming up the stairs, dressed in an elegant grey tweed suit. Among his cousins, he was the only one who seemed to have a stated preference for Western clothing over their kingdom’s traditional robes; it was a trait Anisah secretly found baffling, considering he was also the only full-blooded Ramilian one among the five sheikhs that made up the kingdom’s highest branch of government.
With the sheikh now only a few steps away, Anisah came to a stop and once he was near enough to hear her, she murmured respectfully, “Yam jamil, Your Highness.” The term meant ‘a beautiful day’ in their language, a formal greeting commonly used when greeting one’s superiors.
Afterwards, she waited for the sheikh to walk past her like he usually did.
But this time he did not.
Instead, the sheikh stopped right in front of her, asking lazily, “Anisah, is it not?”
Her head jerked up in confusion, and violet eyes unintentionally clashed with hooded black eyes.
Although all Al-Atassi sheikhs were gorgeous beyond belief, most people agreed that Tarif was the most seductive one among his cousins, with the way his six-foot-plus frame of pure, sinewy muscles pulsated with a blatantly sexual aura – it was as if every inch of him was designed to arouse, and the simplest contact from the sheikh could make a woman come.
The silky texture of his ebony hair that begged to have a woman’s fingers rake through it, the dark eyes that could make a woman come with one scorching-hot look, the hard, perfect lines of a face so achingly beautiful it could make one ache just by looking at him—-
“Anisdi?” My lady?
Anisah’s face flushed with color when she realized she had been practically staring at the sheikh like an infatuated little fool. Curses! This was one of the reasons she had worked hard to perfect the art of being invisible when this particular sheikh was around. And for so many years now, her trick of acting submissive and boring to avoid drawing his attention had always worked.
Always.
Until now, that was.
Clearing her throat, she managed to answer in a steady voice, “Nem, alshaykh.” Yes, sheikh. “That is my name.” And hopefully that would be the end of it, and the sheikh would soon go his merry way to wherever his next rendezvous was.
Unfortunately, the sheikh seemed in a mood to prove her wrong every instance.
“It’s a pleasure to finally have a chance to speak with you.”
The words had Anisah at wit’s end, and she couldn’t help lowering her gaze as she muttered, “The honor and privilege is mine, Your Highness.” There was nothing she despised more than dishonesty, and yet here she was, forced to speak falsehoods. But then again, what choice did she have?
Despite being much younger compared to other scholars, Anisah was already considered as one of the kingdom’s leading authorities on Ramilian history and etiquette. Was she supposed to forget everything she stood for just so she could tell Tarif Al-Atassi to his face she—-
“I wonder if you truly mean that, anisdi.”
The sheikh’s tone remained lazy, but even so Anisah couldn’t keep her gaze from narrowing suspiciously at the sheikh. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that the sheikh was actually mocking her.
But that wouldn’t make sense, Anisah thought with a frown. Her ability to conceal her dislike towards the sheikh was something she took great pride in, and she couldn’t think of a single incident that she had let her true feelings slip.
Deciding she was being merely fanciful, she said finally, “I sincerely apologize if I have behaved in a manner that suggests otherwise—-”
“Not at all,” the sheikh interrupted her. “I have been observing you for the past two months—-”
Her eyebrows shot up. For what possible reason could the sheikh have been observing her for two long months?