Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
She beamed up at him as she showed Ilyas the bedside lamp from her room, and in yet another display of resourcefulness, Ember had also used a towel and a gift basket to create a cozy little nook for her four-legged charge.
Very, very impressive, Ilyas thought, but when his secretary turned to face him again, all he could see was how her nipples were still fully erect.
And the sight of it still made him hungry as fuck.
Ember
Ember was born in a small American town that used to be this insignificant dot in the map until one of their locals, Harper, ended up marrying her childhood friend...who also happened to be the devastatingly gorgeous Emir Sheikh of the Kingdom of Ramil.
Their whirlwind romance was stuff that dreams were made of, and although Harper was now one of the world's most beloved royals, the former librarian hadn't forgotten her roots.
One of her first acts as Ramil's newly crowned queen was to set up an employment center in her hometown, and it was through this that an orphaned farm girl like Ember, fresh out of vocational college, had ended up working for Sheikh Ilyas Al-Masri.
At first, she had walked on eggshells around him, but when this only made Ilyas bully her even more and more, she had finally snapped and yelled at his face.
'Quit bullying me, you demon prince!'
It had been a moment of insanity that left Ember shaken and appalled. She had expected to be terminated on the spot, but the sheikh had given her a nod of approval instead.
'That's better,' she remembered him drawling. 'Having you jump around me all the time like a nervous kitten was getting on my nerves.'
And then there was that night when they were both working overtime.
Ember had always been careful in observing the boundaries between her and her royal bosshole, but when she had asked permission to have dinner in the pantry, the sheikh had irritably waved her to sit back down.
'Am I fucking contagious or something? Just eat your goddamn meal here.'
The sheikh had not been the type to mince words, and he would rake her over the coals for even the smallest mistake. It used to make her wish the sky would fall on him, and while she still wished that every once in a while, Ember could now appreciate in hindsight that his bosshole tactics turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
She had stuck around to prove him wrong, and before she knew it, over a year had already passed, and Ember had now perfected her working persona around the sheikh. His frequent flashes of temper were but storms in a teacup, and Ember could now effortlessly gauge his mood to know if the demon prince required her defiance or obedience.
If someone had asked Ember a year ago where she saw herself in the future, she wouldn't have known how to answer it. Now, however, Ember knew exactly what she wanted, and that was to find her forever home in the demon prince's employ.
It was what she prayed for every night, never mind if come morning she only had to be an hour in at work, and she'd already find herself wishing instead that she could send the sheikh back to Hell, where royal bossholes like him were surely spawned.
Today was one of those days unfortunately, and Ember had to mentally count imaginary Huznan camels while Ilyas did his best to twist her arm into doing his bidding.
"You're my secretary," her royal bosshole snarled. "Have you forgotten that?"
"No, of course not."
"Then why the hell did you say yes to assisting the Crown Prince's fiancée?"
"Because she's the Crown Prince's fiancée?"
"Like fuck that's true."
"Why would you think I'm lying?" Ember's expression was one of hurt, and her tone chiding, but this only earned her a scowl in return.
"Because I know you," the demon prince snarled, "so quit faking it."
"I'm not faking it." But actually, she was.
"Titles have never impressed you," Ilyas derided, "and you're the kind of person who would rather shove your foot in your ass than kiss someone else's."
Ember made a face at the sheikh's words. Did he have to be so graphic, just because he was right? In any case, what he was asking for was impossible, since she had already given her word to the Crown Prince.
"I honestly didn't realize you'd have a need for me." Lie. "But as much as I wish to be of service to you—-" Another lie. "—-there's this thing called the law, and it's, you know, a Huznan criminal offense to break one's word to a member of the royal family."
Ember was quite proud of the excuse she had made up, which to her sounded quite plausible, but the demon prince didn't appear to share her sentiments.
"You break your word to me all the time, so don't feed me that kind of bull."