Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
"Understood, Ms. Just. It was our pleasure to serve."
I hand Zahir back his phone in a daze.
"Is that proof enough?"
I open my mouth, but it's my stomach that ends up growling in answer.
Chapter Seven
I REGRET CHOOSING HIS room as soon as we reach it. I should've known a sheikh like him would be occupying the penthouse suite, and the more I look around, the more I feel like shrinking back from reality.
Jamieson's lifestyle as a reality TV star has always made me uncomfortable, but this...
This display of wealth doesn't even seem real.
I didn't even know a hotel suite can come with two stories' worth of living space.
Or its own pool.
And even a grand piano in its indoor living room.
Because it has, you know, another living room outdoors.
This scale of luxury is beyond my comprehension, and it doesn't just make me feel out of place. To be surrounded by such wealth makes him seem like he's living on a completely different planet from mine—-
"Do you want anything in particular?"
And there's no better proof of this than me shaking my head in response, and Zahir then interpreting this as a good enough reason to order everything on the breakfast menu.
"I...I just said I can eat anything," I stammer out.
"That's why I ordered everything."
Is he really not aware of how crazy he sounds?
"Now..."
Zahir folds his length on the massive couch facing the sliding doors of the balcony and crooks a finger in my direction. "Come to me, please."
No, my brain urges me to say.
Tell him no, you do not want to go to him.
But my body has other ideas, with his touch having enslaved my flesh.
My brain mourns every step I take toward him, but I'm like a puppet on strings, and—-aaaah.
A single yank has me tumbling onto his lap, and it's as if he doesn't even notice me struggling as he rearranges my limbs until I find myself straddling him like an equestrienne on her stallion.
"T-This—-" I can't even meet his eyes or string words together in my embarrassment.
"Yes?"
"T-This is n-not right," I finally manage to sputter.
"You are already my wife—-"
His...wife?
"And when you consider the liberties I've taken with your body—-"
I try covering my ears, but Zahir only chuckles as he pulls my hands down.
"Do you not think it is far too late for modesty?"
"No!"
"But it is."
"Well, I...I disagree!"
"Tell me, habibti. Do you know anything of my kingdom?"
The unexpected question catches me off guard, and I end up stammering out the truth.
"Not much?"
"Give it a try."
"I...um...remember that the Crown Prince married his American stepsister?"
"That's a good start."
I purse my lips together...because his approving tone makes me want to dance around like a puppy that has just been praised by her master.
"Do you happen to recall any of the trouble she initially encountered?"
"Opposing cultures?"
"And so, because of that..."
He looks at me meaningfully, and I realize it's pointless to hide the truth. I am that puppy who wants his approval, and so I find myself racking my brains for an answer. "Um..."
His expression turns impassive, and when I think of how this may mean I've disappointed him—-
No, I don't want to!
—-I find myself blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.
"She ended up breaking some rules?"
A moment passes, and then his lips slowly curve, and I almost feel like singing 'hallelujah' because it feels so, so good—-
"Exactly."
Until I realize he's staring at me meaningfully once again, and I cease feeling good.
"Are you saying I broke some rules?"
"A better way to put it," he says silkily, "is that what happened last night is not without consequences."
Oh God.
I find myself swallowing hard as my throat dries up in fear. "W-What kind of consequences?"
"What do you think?"
I look at him helplessly. "I don't know what to think."
"I am not only a sheikh, habibti."
I'm dead.
"But I am also a general in my kingdom."
So, so dead.
"As such, there are standards that I must uphold."
Oh, I knew it.
And because the way he's beating around the bush only makes things worse, I swallow past the lump in my throat and force myself to ask. "Are you saying—-"
"Yes."
Oh God, I really am dead.
I look at him sickly. "Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"You really are going to—-"
"I am really going to—-"
"Kill me?"
"Marry you," he finishes at the same time.
Chapter Eight
HA. HA. HA.
Zahir stares at me oddly. "What are you doing?"
I stop with the fake laugh. "N-Nothing?"
He crosses his arms over his chest. "Did I hear you right earlier?"
"No?"
"Did you truly think—-"
"I honestly think—-"
"—-I would want to kill you?"
His gaze bores through me as he asks this, and I end up panicking in a mixture of guilt and shame.
"I'm sorry, okay? It was the only thing that made sense!"
"Spending the night together is a plausible reason for murder?"
"B-Because...you might not want others to know."
My voice is barely audible by the time I finish.
Several moments pass, but the silence remains unbroken. I finally lift my gaze...and the first thing I see is the brooding expression on his handsome face.