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)
“Maybe.” Tarif’s broad shoulders moved in a shrug. “But there’s nothing else I can do now. I want her.”
“That has become obvious enough,” the other sheikh said carefully, “but in all honesty, Tarif – you have me and the others surprised. We thought your interest in her would have long waned by now. After all, she is not exactly your taste, is she?”
Tarif’s expression turned brooding. “No. She’s not.” And when he saw the look in the other sheikh’s eyes, he knew that Rayyan was thinking the same thing he did.
Anisah was too opinionated, excessively proper, and as politically invested as a natural-born martyr.
She was too much like his mother, in short, and God knew how much Tarif detested the woman who gave birth to him.
****
“Ramil malaka!” Ramil forever!
The session came to a close when the sheikhs, together with everyone inside the Grand Chamber, pounded their chests as they affirmed their oath of loyalty to the kingdom. A cheer followed, and as some of the sheikhs moved toward the gallery to speak with the people, Anisah’s gaze remained on Tarif Al-Atassi.
It was one of those rare days he had on the kingdom’s traditional robe, and its loose fit only served to accentuate the impressive breadth of his shoulders and his intimidating height. As required by The Noble House, the sheikh had also donned a formal headdress, but while this made some of the men look weak and frail, it only served to emphasize the classical perfection of the sheikh’s features.
With the way she was practically drooling over the sheikh’s good looks, Anisah knew she was acting no better than the female students in her class, all of whom had dreamily declared their undying love for the Al-Atassi sheikhs.
Oh, if only that was just it.
But it was not.
The problem with an obsession like hers, when combined with a mind trained to analyze and dissect, was how it forced Anisah to also see beyond the sheikh’s good looks. In the past, all she had known of the sheikh was what she saw of him in passing and what she learned of him from the news. He was an unabashed playboy, a charming ne’er do well, a selfish sybarite, the beloved subject of many a society columnist.
To be fair to the sheikh, however, Anisah was also aware of the times his name made it to the front pages every time he scored one win or another in foreign affairs. She had read all of those articles as well, but she had always thought of those achievements the result of his department’s hard work as a whole rather than a personal feat of the sheikh’s.
Her inexplicable, ill-advised obsession with him had proved her wrong about this, though.
Foreign affairs had always been one of the more treacherous arenas in politics, with a single misstep more than enough to wage the costliest of wars and cause the deaths of millions in the worst-case scenarios. Egos in this field were no different from landmines in battle-ravaged nations, and it had only taken Anisah a little over a day to come to the grudging realization that everything she and the whole world knew about the sheikh was naught but a product of a strategically constructed image.
The way Tarif Al-Atassi blatantly courted trouble and flagrantly eschewed tradition – all of it was but a cover-up meant to encourage other governments to underestimate the sheikh, and all of them had fallen for the sheikh’s trap hook, line, and sinker.
Just like she had.
The realization chafed at her still, and Anisah stared cantankerously at the ongoing commotion before her. Most of the audience had rushed forward in hopes of having a photo taken with Tarif Al-Atassi and this, too, she supposed was another good thing about the sheikh. He might be arrogance personified, but she had never heard a story of the sheikh turning a local away no matter how busy he was.
So, yes, all in all, he was not as bad as she had thought, Anisah thought moodily.
But it still didn’t mean she was completely wrong about him. He had still slept with all of those women, and they had all still ended up heartbroken by the time the sheikh had left them.
And like it or not, you’re no different from them, Anisah told herself. So! Keep! Your! Distance!
Anisah came clumsily to her feet, suddenly feeling the need to put as much distance as possible between her and the sheikh. But just as she started to turn away, the sheikh lifted his dark head, and with him towering over everyone else around him, his ebony eyes immediately and unerringly swiveled into a collision course with Anisah’s gaze.
Oh...stars...above...
Everyone seemed so engrossed at being able to get so close to the sheikh that none of them appeared to notice his gaze wasn’t on any of the phones they had trained on him. Instead, his burning gaze was fully focused on Anisah, and her teeth gnashed at the lust that glittered so shamelessly in his eyes.