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)
Too much so.
“Do not ever show that face to any other man than me, Harper Griffiths.”
“This...face?” Harper blinked. “Do I have any other face?”
The sheikh remained unsmiling. “I mean it, qalifa.” He pulled her up. “You. Are. Mine.”
“Umm. Okay.” Harper was doing her best not to grin. She was also doing her best to remind herself that these me-Tarzan, you-Jane-mine approaches used to be a major turn-off for her, but why, oh, why was it different when it was the sheikh saying these things?
“I mean it,” the sheikh warned her.
“Yes, yes, I heard you.” It was really, really hard not to grin now. “But you do know I live in the smallest town in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska, right? The only eligible men in it are not my type.”
“But they are still men.”
“Yup, but they say ‘moo’ rather than ‘hi’.” Color stained the sheikh’s high-boned cheeks when he realized she was joking, and Harper could no longer keep herself from laughing.
He cupped her cheeks, growling, “You may tease me all you want, but I am serious. Everything has changed.” And right now, Khalil was furious with himself. He shouldn’t have given her his word about this one-week thing. Or at least, he should have laid the law down and told her that she could think all she want in his palace, where he could keep her to himself.
“I’m sure you’re exaggerating,” Harper dismissed. “They’ve seen me in your company for eight years, and everyone thinks—-” She grimaced. “I’m just your friend.”
That was then, the sheikh thought, when his prank-loving cousin Tarif had not yet released an announcement to the papers, saying that he had been secretly in love with Harper for eight years.
Chapter Eight
The sheikh had warned her of Tarif’s prank and the “significant” consequences that would come with it, especially when the press realized no statement of denial from his house would be forthcoming. She had dismissed his warnings, thinking that no one would be stupid enough to fall for his cousin’s prank.
But she was wrong.
As soon as she had stepped out of Lincoln Airport, she realized right away that the whole world was apparently that stupid, hence the shitstorm that had become Harper’s life for the past six days.
The press hounded her everywhere, reported her every move, threw questions and insinuations at her every chance they got. Thank God the sheikh had been a stubborn bully, ignoring her protests about having her own security, and when he had introduced them to her, she had recognized the trio of guards right away.
The custody goons, Harper had gasped.
The three men’s expressions turned stonier while the sheikh coughed.
They have been with the Ramilian army since their teens and are among the best of my own security. The sheikh gestured to the men, saying, Please introduce yourself.
I am Amir, anisdi. He appeared to be the eldest and the leader of the group.
I am Farid, anisdi. He was the largest of them, with the most ferocious scowl.
I am Kamil, anisdi. The last seemed to be the least communicative, his tone colder than the two.
But Harper by then had been thinking of something else.
Amir. Farid. Kamil.
AFK, she had blurted out.
The sheikh had frowned. Is that not an acronym for – away from keyboard?
Yeah, it is, but-—And Harper had pointed to the three bodyguards. That’s what I’m calling them – whoa!
Her so-called AFK was scowling at Harper like they wanted to work for the enemy so they could have an excuse to kill her instead.
I don’t think they like me, she had said uneasily.
The sheikh had done his best not to smile, telling her soothingly, They will warm up to you in no time.
Remembering this made Harper’s lips twitch. Yes, well, that hadn’t exactly happened, but since the AFK had been extremely good at handling the press and getting rid of anyone they considered a threat to their future queen, she wasn’t going to complain.
If not for those guys, Harper was sure one of the paparazzi would have manhandled her already, desperate as the whole pack seemed to be in their quest to be the first to dish out a scoop on Sheikh Khalil Al-Atassi’s “secret love.”
As always, Harper’s nose wrinkled at the term, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. How could the whole world be so blind? The sheikh had lovers left and right in the past several years, and they could still believe that he had been in love with her all these years?
It made her realize that people would believe what they wanted to believe – and this terrified her. Because the truth was, she wanted to believe the same thing, too. She wanted to believe that the sheikh had been in love with her all these years, albeit unconsciously. She wanted to believe this so badly, and wasn’t that the most horrible thing?