Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 19307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 97(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
The other woman's screeching tone even has the bellmen by the hotel's front doors wincing in agony. I think it's an occupational hazard, with Jessica having been in the cheering squad since middle school.
Sheikh Saif, however, doesn't even deign to look her way, and his disinterest has Jessica letting out another screech just before turning to me with eyes full of hostility. "You never changed, have you? You've always acted like you're so cool you don't need to be mean, but the truth is, you're just a thief like your mo—-let go of me!"
At first I think it's hotel security, but when none of them looks familiar, I realize it's likely the sheikh's personal bodyguards ditching their incognito ways to get rid of, well...trash.
There's one of them flanking Jessica on each side, and I know it's horrible of me, but she's making it so hard for all of us to keep a straight face when she seems to be using her high-flying cheerleader kicks and twists in order to free herself.
The sheikh looks at me, his gaze still furious. "Do you now see why you must disassociate yourself with such—-"
"If you dare call me trash—-"
"—-trash?"
We all cover our ears in advance, but this proves unnecessary when one of the sheikh's bodyguards uses a handkerchief to smother Jessica's furious cry.
"Uh..." I look at him uneasily. "That might get you into trouble."
But my words only have the sheikh's lips tightening. "You're doing it again. You're being too nice, and that's why trash like her can't help taking advantage of you. Who needs therapists when they have a living punching bag to curse and scream at?"
The sheikh's lip curls as he spares Jessica a look of icy distaste. "The next time you try causing trouble to my woman, in any fucking way, you better be damn sure you've got enough money to fight me in court."
A nod from the sheikh has Jessica finally freed from his bodyguards, and the way she looks at me with such hatred makes me realize what the sheikh saying just might be true.
I've always thought I was doing the right thing by letting Mom's victims treat me as they will, but what if doing so only made people like Jessica see me as this free-to-curse-and-shame-outlet for their anger?
"That bitch next to you is the criminal," Jessica spats, "not me. And you have nothing to sue me—-"
"That still remains to be seen," Sheikh Saif says coldly. "I've all the money to burn, and you can expect my lawyers to keep suing you until we find a lawsuit that sticks. With trash like you, I'm certain it's only a matter of time before the skeletons in your closet—-"
The sheikh stops speaking when I place a finger on his lips.
"Can we do as you say," I whisper, "and stop wasting our time with trash so we can talk?"
There's one moment of silence, and then the sheikh has me gasping as he sweeps me up in his arms. Jessica is still screaming curses at us as the sheikh steps inside the elevator, and as soon as the doors close, both Sheikh Saif and I speak at the same time—-
"I'm sorry, Seven—-"
"I'm sorry, Your Highness—-"
We stare at each other in surprise, and after another moment, a smile touches my lips as the sheikh's handsome face softens.
"I heard you talking to someone a while ago," I blurt out.
"I figured as much," the sheikh says quietly. "And that someone was my brother. Or rather, that was one of my brothers, since all three of them have flown in for our engagement."
He says it so casually that it takes me a moment to understand his words. Did he just say...our engagement?
"B-But what about the other girl?" I finally manage to ask. "The one you saw a year ago—-"
"—-was you."
What?
"I was a guest here a year ago, and I saw you cleaning the room across mine."
I can only shake my head, unable to believe what he's saying.
"To make it worse, my father, the king, was with me that time. We were here for his surgery, and unfortunately, he saw how I fell in love with you at first sight."
"Unfortunately?"
A grimace contorts over the sheikh's features. "The king has what you'd call a...perverse sense of humor. He's always at my back, wanting me to marry, but the moment he saw me fall for you like a ton of bricks, he immediately changed his tune and asked that I stay away from you for an entire year. If I still wanted you after that time, he promised to give his blessing for our union."
The elevator doors start to open at the sheikh's words, and as soon as we're out, I wriggle against his hold until he takes the hint.
When I'm back on my feet, I reach up to cup his face, all the while marveling that a man such as him could've fallen for me at first sight.