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)
Remembering the article made Harper’s cheeks flush while her gaze involuntarily searched for the sheikh in the crowd. She stiffened when she realized he was too near—-
Shit.
“I need to go to the restroom,” she mumbled to Howard just before fleeing. She had to escape before he realized what she was doing, had to make sure that their eyes wouldn’t ever meet—-
In her haste, Harper accidentally bumped into someone, and the woman in front of her yelped.
Shit.
When the woman gasped, Harper realized she had accidentally spoken the word out loud.
Shit.
She had forgotten that women in this kingdom didn’t curse.
And then the woman gasped for a second time—-
Oh, shit. She had just done it again!
By now, a lot of people had turned to look at them, and cheeks flushing, she muttered, “Sorry.” She lifted her gaze up, intending to apologize again, but instead the first thing she saw was –
Him.
Even though he was still a few feet away from her, Harper could practically feel the sheikh’s amusement like a taunting caress on her skin, and her jaw clenched as she found herself torn between annoyance – and exhilaration.
And wasn’t that the stupidest thing ever?
Khalil Al-Atassi wasn’t just a sheikh. He was the sheikh. And here she was, more ordinary than most girls, having a crush on the sheikh. It was why she hated, hated going to Ramil at this time of the year. It would mean seeing him, which would then cause her to remember just how stupid she was.
And yet even knowing you’re being stupid about this, you still insist on being stupid, crushing on him for eight years!
The thought made Harper mentally wince, but she told herself this year would be different. This year, she would absolutely have nothing to do with the sheikh.
As in, nothing!
And so she started to turn around again—-
“Marhava, Harper.”
Harper almost jumped in surprise. Where the heck had Altair Al-Atassi come from?
“It is nice to see you again,” the kingdom’s highest-ranking general murmured.
“Umm, it’s nice to see you, too.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway—-”
Altair slowly shook his head. You know why I’m here.
Harper scowled. It doesn’t mean I should just give up without a fight.
Because they had just about the same conversation for so many years now, words no longer needed to be spoken.
When Harper opened her mouth to argue anew, Altair said gently, “The king wishes you to stay where you are.”
Harper glared. And if I don’t obey him?
“We have recently expanded the palace’s dungeons,” Altair said very politely. “Perhaps you’d be interested in a personal tour?”
He was going to have her locked behind bars, in other words.
Harper forced a smile between clenched teeth, saying, “Nope.”
“I thought so.”
And so she stayed, fidgeted, and cursed the sheikh to perdition.
Maybe if he weren’t single, she wouldn’t mind being around him so much, Harper thought moodily. Maybe if he found himself a queen, she’d stop being stupid. Maybe, just maybe, she’d finally accept the fact that Khalil Al-Atassi was untouchable, unreachable, and would always be, especially to girls like her.
It took over ten minutes before the sheikh finally found his way to her, having had to pause on his way twice, the first to speak with a French ambassador and later, to exchange a few words with a UN envoy.
His cousins spread out in what seemed like natural synchrony, affording them a circle of privacy, but Harper wasn’t fooled. These five guys were thick as thieves, and nothing they did was ever unplanned.
For a long time, the sheikh simply stared at her, stared and stared, making it seem like he had the hots for her. But they both knew he was just baiting her. Damn sheikh. He knew how much she hated being the center of attention, and that was exactly what he was making her to be.
Finally, his beautiful lips curved, and the sheikh said softly, “Marhava, qalifa.” Hello, little girl.
Harper almost scowled, almost glared, but then she caught sight of her father’s warning look from across the hall. Shit. And so she had to resign herself with a stony expression as she said, “Hello, sheikh.” Now go away.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Khalil Al-Atassi remained in front of her, his gaze patient and knowing.
Damn sheikh.
Don’t do it, Harper warned herself. You know he just likes seeing you mad for whatever reason. And the damn sheikh knew how much she hated it whenever he stared at her. She tried counting to ten, but when the sheikh seemed to be enjoying looking his fill of her, Harper’s quick temper eventually got the better of her.
“Stop that,” Harper grouched.
“Stop what?”
“You know what!”
“I truly do not know,” the sheikh said ever so solemnly that Harper wanted to strangle him. “Is it because I called you qalifa?”
Her teeth gnashed. “I am not a little girl.” Damn sheikh.
The sheikh appeared surprised. “You say it as if it is an insult, but it is not.”