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)
“Considering the fact that our future queen is the only woman Khalil can have sex with for the rest of his life, I’d say he’s earned all the right to take his time in choosing.” There was a slight pause just before Tarif glanced at the Emir Sheikh with a wince. “I don’t envy you at all for that, by the way. The thought of having to fuck just one woman—-”
There was a pause, and then the other sheikhs winced as well.
Khalil only shrugged. “It is what it is.” His kingdom meant the world to him, the only thing that had given him purpose. He was a king first, a hot-blooded man second. As he would unhesitatingly offer his life for Ramil, the need to marry and remain faithful to his future queen was of little consequence to him.
“Exactly what kind of woman are you looking for anyway?” Rayyan, the kingdom’s Minister of Finance, asked bluntly. With ash blond hair and blue-gray eyes, he was the most foreign-looking in the group, but like Tarif, Rayyan’s looks and mixed bloodline were completely deceiving. He was the quintessential Ramilian male, and women to him were either a form of personal property or tools for negotiation.
“I want someone the kingdom would need and be happy with,” the king said simply.
“That automatically rules out eighty percent of tonight’s female guests,” Malik said cynically.
That was true, Khalil thought, which was why he was even willing to search for his future queen outside the kingdom. “A pure Ramilian would have been ideal, but at this point, I’d be willing to settle for someone who at least understands and appreciates our ways.”
“What about fucking? Don’t you at least want someone you’d enjoy fucking?” When Khalil merely shrugged, Tarif’s eyebrow arched in surprise. “You are serious? You do not care about sexual compatibility at all?”
“Not all is as sex-crazed as you are,” Altair said with a shrug.
“Same goes for you, old boy,” Tarif responded lazily. “Not everyone can live like a monk like you do.”
Khalil started to speak when something – someone – caught his eye. Her head was bowed, her dark hair falling like a curtain that covered her face. She was showing her purse for inspection, and his gaze narrowed, the sheikh waiting for the woman to turn his way.
Finally, the woman stepped past the security sensor gates, and when she looked up—-
Ah.
Harper Griffiths.
It had been a year since the sheikh had last seen her, and she still looked just as he remembered. Raven-black hair that was long and silky straight, flashing green eyes, and a voluptuous body made more alluring by the type of dresses that she liked to wear: feminine, conservative, but just tight enough to make a man fantasize about what was underneath.
Unlike most women of his acquaintance, Harper had never tried to take advantage of her friendship with him. In fact, Harper would always strongly insist that he was not a friend at all, and in all the years she had visited the palace, not once had she granted an interview about him.
Harper Griffiths, the sheikh thought again.
And this time, an idea slowly took shape in his mind.
When he glanced up, he saw that all four of his cousins were gazing knowingly at him.
“So this is why you have been as picky as that girl from the fairytale,” Altair mocked.
“Goldilocks,” Tarif slotted in. “Do you seriously not know that?” And then to Khalil, he said with a sigh, “You could have saved us all the worry by telling us you were simply waiting for your favorite toy.”
“I agree with your choice.” Malik’s tone was approving.
“And since we all know how you prefer horses to women, I’d say that’s a huge compliment, coming from you.” Rayyan’s tone became musing. “It’s a pity she’s not even of noble blood, but still, I can see the advantages of marrying someone like her—-”
“Enough.” Khalil’s tone was exasperated. “I haven’t even said anything.”
The other sheikhs stared at him.
And then Altair said simply, “You didn’t have to.”
“We’re not blind,” Tarif said with a roll of his eyes.
Malik gestured to the woman who had just walked past them, her arm looped around her father’s. “And that’s her, isn’t it?”
“Harper Griffiths,” Rayyan murmured. “But the real question here is – do you think she will agree to marry you?”
“YOU’RE VAIN AS EVER, Dad.”
“And you’re too young to be a nag.”
Harper let out an unladylike grunt, the sound making her father frown, which she pretended not to notice. The truth was, she didn’t really think Howard was vain. Rather, he was an immensely proud man, and even though it had been almost a decade since he had left the army, he was still unable to fully accept having to limp for the rest of his life, much less make use of a walking stick.