Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Will it do for you?” Standing by the doorway, the sheikh began to unknot his tie as he spoke—-
It was too sexy, just too much of everything, and everything that Kyria had fought so hard to suppress in the club surged to the fore.
Her knees started to quake.
“Kyria?” The sheikh raised a brow at her as he whipped his tie off.
Oh God.
She smiled brightly at him. “Everything’s alright.” And then she slammed the door in his face.
Again.
Her hands flew to her mouth in dismay.
Oh dear.
This was...this was very, very bad.
Outside the hallway, the sheikh stared stoically at the door that had been slammed shut in his face. Twice, he thought grimly. This had only happened twice in his life, and in both instances Kyria had been the instigator.
He had thought – and foolishly so, as it seemed now – that things could still change between them. He had thought that things could go back to the way they used to. But now he knew.
“Kyria?”
Inside the room, Kyria literally shuddered at the too-soft voice of the sheikh, knowing from experience that it was not a good sign. Gulping hard, she whispered, “Y-yes, Malik?”
“If you don’t open this door in three seconds, I’ll take it as a sign that you wish nothing to do with me.”
Her face paled.
“And if so, I shall never show my face to you again.”
Her hands fell to her sides.
Three...
Two...
She threw the door open, crying out, “It’s all your fault!”
The sheikh only stared at her, unflinching and too painfully handsome for her heart to take.
“All y-your fault!” Her tone was violent, but her eyes were shimmering with tears, and the sight of it killed whatever hope he had left of keeping her in his life. He knew how much Kyria hated to cry, and for her to be on the brink of tears now...
Two years, he thought bleakly. He had fooled himself for two goddamn years, but now it was time to face the truth. The thought made him feel weary, and far, far older than his thirty-one years. Looking at Kyria, he said tonelessly, “I’m sorry.”
The sound of his voice made Kyria swallow back a sob. “I wasn’t asking you to say sorry.”
“I know. But it’s all I can say. I’m sorry that morning happened.”
“Your s-sorry is not enough—-”
“Then what do you want?” he demanded bitterly. “To punish me for something I couldn’t help?” Tears started running down her face, but it was different this time. “What do you want, damn you?” The sight of her crying made him want to explode, made him want to beat something up until the impotent rage inside of him was completely spent—-
Kyria was crying harder, but it only fed his rage. “Say it!”
She started shaking her head. “I c-can’t—-”
“Say it, damn you,” he raged. “Just say it—-” Because that was the only way for things to end between them. He needed her to tell him to get out of her life, needed her—-
“I just want it to stop, okay?” she choked out.
Her head lifted, her red-rimmed eyes clashing with his, begging for something he dared not think of.
“Since that morning,” Kyria wept, “I’ve become so weird, and I just can’t change it.”
The sheikh slowly shook his head. “Kyria—-”
“No!” And to his surprise, Kyria started to babble. “You have to listen. Listen until the end! You have to understand how much things have changed since that morning. I hear your voice, and I panic—-”
Malik stiffened.
“I see your face, and I panic—-”
And there was that word again, he thought grimly. “Are you panicking at the thought that it would happen—-”
“Oh, Malik.” She let out a laugh that sounded crazy even to her own ears. “Don’t you get it? Do you really need me to spell it out loud?” Her lips curved in a smile that pierced his chest. “I’m panicking because that morning changed e-everything, and when I’m n-not mentally prepared to see you, or even hear you, I can’t help but think of things—-” Her arms wrapped around herself as her voice lowered to a shamed whisper. “Weird things.”
Malik could only stare at her. “But at the club—-”
“That was different,” she said miserably. “There were people around. We weren’t alone. And I...I saw you first before you saw me so I had time to prepare. But the other times and even just now, when I saw you taking off your tie—-”
“My tie?” he echoed blankly.
“It made me think of really weird things.” And again, her whispered words were ridden with guilt. “Things that a s-sister—-” Her voice came to a choking stop. “A sister should never think of her brother.”
Ah.
Their eyes collided, hers still wet with tears that flowed endlessly down her face, while his—-
Kyria’s lips parted in bemusement, and her heart started to ache and race at the same time.
Why?
Why was it—-