Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“No.” The word came out a grumble, but when he pressed her against the glass wall of the shower Harper could only swallow hard, unable to even lift a single finger in resistance.
A soft, sexy chuckle, and the sheikh whispered into her ear, “I think you’re already showing it.”
“S-shut up.” But they both knew he was right, and when his hands moved down, she could only close her eyes and let the magic begin again.
By the time they left the shower, she was flushed, weak-kneed, and unable to protest as the sheikh once again took charge, towel-drying her body before helping her to a fluffy bathrobe.
She padded to the adjoining suite after, where her clothes were, and once dressed she seated herself before the vanity and was in the middle of blow-drying her hair when the sheikh came in. He leaned against the doorway upon seeing her, but his intense gaze made Harper feel so self-conscious she switched the dryer off, asking baldly, “What is it?”
Khalil shook his head, lying, “Nothing.” The truth was, he had never stayed around for post-coital activities with any of his former lovers. It was the first time for the sheikh to see a woman grooming herself after being with him, and the sight of Harper blow-drying her hair felt strangely erotic – as well as too damn intimate.
This is the point he should walk out, the sheikh thought, lest he forget that theirs was but a marriage of convenience.
But instead, he found himself walking towards her. “May I?”
She blinked. “Dry my hair?” At his nod, she said right away, “No.” It was too intimate, too embarrassing-—“Hey!” But it was too late, since the sheikh had already snatched the dryer from her hand.
He switched it on.
“I just said—-”
“Bend your head, please.”
And she found herself obeying the command. Damn it. Why was she such a pushover with this guy?
The feel of the sheikh running his fingers through her hair was too damn sensual, and Harper crossed her arms over her chest when she felt her breasts reacting to the sensation, swelling behind the cups of her bra and her nipples turning hard in arousal.
Shit, shit, shit.
She was such a slut with this guy.
The sheikh was similarly engrossed with what he was doing. He could not help imagining how it would feel, to hold these silky strands in his fist as he forced her to look up—-
Why not do it now, the sheikh thought.
And so he switched the dryer off, fisted her hair, and she gasped as he forced her to look up.
He bent down, kissing her hard, his tongue driving deep into her mouth.
And it was heaven.
Sweet, lustful heaven.
By the time the sheikh finally managed to lift his head, she was staring up at him with eyes made hazy by desire, and she was panting ever so softly.
She looked so damn sexy –
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.