Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Glancing at the sheikh, he said conversationally, “I once told Altair that you must have such moments, too, but he didn’t believe me.”
Khalil frowned. “What moments?”
“Where you let dick win over your mind.”
Chapter Three
“Can’t I just stay in my room, please?” Harper stopped pacing the length of her father’s room to throw another desperate look at Howard. “I’m not the hero, anyway, so I don’t understand why I need to be here.”
“Because your name was included in the invitation,” her father answered simply, “and so it is only polite for us to both heed the king’s request for our presence.”
“Well, he’s not my king,” she muttered.
Howard frowned.
Harper felt defensive. “But it’s true, isn’t it? I’m a citizen of the United States of America, not the kingdom of Ramil. So I am not lawfully bound—-”
“And what about your honor?”
She knew it would come to that. “It’s just an invitation! How can turning down his invitation to dinner ‘besmirch’—-” Harper couldn’t help sarcastically making quotation marks in the air. “—-my honor?”
“Because I say so, and that is final.”
Howard’s grim tone put her in the same mood, and she growled, “I hate it when you’re stubborn like this.”
“Back at you, child,” he growled back.
Father and daughter scowled at each other, but their staring contest was interrupted when one of the palace maids knocked respectfully on their door, saying in hushed tones that dinner was about to start.
“You’re coming,” Howard said warningly, “and that’s final.”
And so she did, not because she was terrified of her father at this age (well, she was, just a little), but mostly because she loved him too much to disrespect him. Also, this was a dinner that the palace was hosting specifically for her father. It would look bad for Howard if she wasn’t by his side when receiving his accolades.
As the dinner was hosted in one of the palace’s smaller dining rooms – there were eight of them, last she knew – the table could only host a “modest” twenty. Howard was given a seat on the king’s left, but when she started to take the chair on Howard’s other side, the steward shook his head with a smile. “You are given the other seat of honor as Mr. Griffith’s daughter, anisdi.”
She mustered a smile purely for the sake of the proudly beaming steward. “Yay.” Not. Damn sheikh.
Five minutes to seven, the table’s guests were all seated, and at exactly seven in the evening the Emir Sheikh and his cabinet of vassals entered the room. Everyone was quick to rise to their feet in the sheikhs’ presence, Harper included. Whatever she felt about him, it wasn’t a valid excuse to disrespect the other sheikhs or Ramil’s culture in general.
“Thank you for joining us,” Khalil murmured, “in celebrating once again this kingdom’s living hero, Mr. Howard Griffiths.” His tone was soft and sibilant, without a single trace of the American accent he had used to speak with.
Per protocol, the customary exchange of greetings followed, and once this was done, Khalil turned to Harper.
Don’t react, she warned herself just as their eyes met—-
His dark gaze glittered with fire and lust.
Shit.
And she found herself ignoring her own warning as her body melted under her abaya.
Khalil pulled out a chair for her, being a gentleman before a sheikh, and he waited until she was seated before he, too, claimed his position at the head of the table. The other sheikhs followed, then her father as the guest of honor, followed by the remaining individuals.
Women were glaring at her once again, Harper thought, sensing their jealousy and anger even though she kept her gaze trained on her plate. Oh, well. What was new?
Servants started to file in, laying down the first course for the night, and the conversation swirling around her grew in noise as the guests were continuously plied with delicious food and wine. Once in a while, she could feel the sheikh’s gaze drifting towards her, but she ignored it determinedly and spent the evening talking to Malik, whom she got along with fairly well.
If looks could kill, Harper thought, she would probably have died ten times by now. But whatever. She was an American citizen, not a subject of Ramil, and she was damned—-
A hot touch claimed her knee, and Harper choked on the water she was sipping.
Oh my God!
The fingers on her knee squeezed, and her worst suspicions were confirmed just as her stomach turned over.
Beside her, Malik asked, “Are you alright?”
“Uh huh.” She nodded jerkily, and waited only for Malik to turn away to speak with his older brother before immediately looking the other side—-
Oh!
Harper almost fell out of her chair at finding the king leaning so close towards her that she had almost bumped her face into his. He smirked at her obvious surprise, and she would’ve glared at him if not for Howard’s grim gaze narrowing on her from across the table.