Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“They won’t.”
“And you can be so sure of this how?” she asked scornfully.
“Because there will be nothing to misunderstand.” The sheikh’s tone, on the other hand, was calm and laconic even. “I am known to be very possessive, and I doubt there is a man in this world who will be so foolish as to call you in the same manner. You are Tory to me and only to me—-”
Anisah gaped at the sheikh. “Are you out of your mind?”
“With lust for you? Most assuredly so.”
Aaargh! She could feel her entire body blushing at his words, and she asked in a mortified voice, ““Will you please stop uttering such things?”
“Why should I? Because it’s not proper?”
“Yes,” she affirmed with relief. At long last, the sheikh understood—-
“Being proper ceases to be virtue if it hinders you from being true to yourself, my sweet.”
Oh curse this man to the abyss and back!
“It is the truth—-”
“Interesting you’d say that,” he interjected, “considering that everything you’ve said in the past fifteen minutes has been a lie.”
An outraged gasp escaped Anisah at the unexpected accusation. “Excuse me?” How in the world had their conversation come to having her character questioned?
“Are you denying it?”
“I am not a liar!”
“Then tell me what you truly think of me,” Tarif invited lazily. He saw her lips tighten in response, and his lips curved into a taunting smile. “Afraid?”
Indignation flared inside of her, and Anisah’s chin automatically lifted. “Of course not!”
“Then why not speak the truth?”
“Because it’s the proper—-” She caught herself in time, but it was too late.
“Proper to lie, you mean?”
The sound of repressed laughter in the sheikh’s tone broke Anisah’s already tenuous hold on her temper, and she found herself snarling, “My reputation is everything to me—-”
“Is that your way of saying that one dance with me can cause your reputation harm?”
“Yes!” Finally, hallelujah, he had seen the—-
“Because you find me irresistibly attractive?”
Color burst in Anisah’s cheeks at the way he had so skillfully twisted her words. “I did not mean that at all!”
Tarif sighed. “And yet another lie—-”
“I am not lying!”
The sheikh shook his head. “But of course you are.”
She almost stomped her foot in frustration, hissing, “Stop this, Your Highness!”
But the sheikh’s lips only twitched in response at her furious exclamation, and now even the last vestige of her self-discipline broke.
Oh, curse him!
Anisah found herself no longer caring one bit of what was or wasn’t proper. All she wanted was to get rid of the too cocky look on the sheikh’s face, and this spurred her to say wrathfully, “If you want the truth so much, Your Highness, then I’ll give it to you.”
And after one deep breath, she let loose every single critical thought she had of the sheikh.
I think you’re so full of yourself!
I think you’re undeserving of the king’s trust!
I think you spend too much time fooling around, and I think all you’re good for is adding unnecessary glamor to the kingdom!
Words of vitriol continued to pour out of her throat, with Anisah’s rage-fueled rant only ending when she had to gasp for breath.
And when she did—-
“Is that all, anisdi?” the sheikh asked very, very politely.
Horror instead of triumph filled her, and Anisah’s hands flew to cover her mouth in dismayed shock.
Oh dear heavens!
Why had she let herself act in such an inexcusably improper manner, and with an Al-Atassi sheikh of all people? How could she have forgotten that she and her sister owed their whole lives to the royal family? Whatever happened to her vow to live honorably and properly, the way her father had not?
Tarif was about to speak when to his surprise, Anisah suddenly fell to her knees, dark head bowed. “I humbly beg your forgiveness, Your Highness.” Anisah’s voice was hollow, a large part of her still reeling from shock at her sheer loss of control. No matter what she thought of Tarif Al-Atassi, it was no reason for her to disrespect the sheikh, and that she had –
Tarif’s dark gaze remained inscrutable even as his mind shrewdly assessed the telltale play of emotions on Anisah’s lovely face. He should have known that his sweet puritan would be so stricken with guilt over hurling insults at him she would end up punishing herself with something this drastic.
The question now, he thought contemplatively, was what to do about it.
He still wanted her in his bed, but he did not want her browbeaten into it. He wanted her to come to him of her own volition, but how?
As his mind continued to consider and discard one possibility after another, the sheikh was unable to resist the urge to touch her, his fingers gently reaching down to cup her chin. He felt her tremble at his touch, and a sardonic smile twisted on his lips.
If only he could make himself believe her reaction was out of sexual awareness and not because she was suffering from the throes of misplaced guilt and self-reproach.