Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
The sheikh suddenly took her hand, and her eyes flew open.
“Harper.” His voice was a sweet, soft caress.
Her heart swayed, and Harper thought, this was bad. She immediately tried tugging her hand away, desperate to free herself from the heat of his touch, but the sheikh’s grip was inflexible.
“Marry me.”
“I can’t—-”
“Yes.” His voice was firm, but his gaze was coaxing, seducing her into a state of submission. “You can.” And so very softly, he said, “You will.”
Shit. Oh, shit. Those eyes of his were too dangerous. “At least g-give me time—-”
“I cannot.” And this time, the sheikh’s lips briefly pressed together. “I know you deserve time to think about this, but it is the one thing I cannot afford to give you.”
Harper listened with a frown as the sheikh explained about his grandfather’s will, which only the royal family’s legal council was privy to. Among other things, Khalil was to marry within a hundred days of his ascension – or risk losing the throne.
“When are your one hundred days up?” she asked.
“Two weeks from now.”
Oh. She gulped. Two weeks. Wasn’t that too soon to decide whether to marry someone?
“And for the marriage to have the proper preparation, I would need at least a week.”
Worse and worse, Harper thought. “In other words, there’s really just a week—-”
“Nem.” The sheikh looked at her. “Those are all my cards on the table, qalifa. Now, it is your turn to make a decision. Will you marry me?”
“I...” The sheikh brought her hand to his mouth as she spoke, and she stiffened. “What do you think you’re doing?”
It was her shrill tone again, the sheikh thought, amused. It would have been an instant turn-off where other women were concerned, but with Harper – it only made him smile...and wonder how long it would take before he could turn her screeches into moans and whimpers.
Harper was still doing her best to pull her hand away, to which the sheikh retaliated by licking her palm.
Harper gasped.
He moved to her fingers, nibbling on the tips.
Her gasp turned into a moan.
Mission accomplished, the sheikh thought, only this time his erection ached more painfully than ever.
When he released her fingers, he murmured wickedly, “That’s just a taste of how good it will be between us.”
Hours later, and Harper still couldn’t make herself stop blushing every time she thought of the sheikh’s words and the things that had happened between them. He had asked her to marry him. In one week’s time. And he had promised the fucking would be so—-
Harper mentally shook her head. Don’t go there, stupid.
Her mind reeled anew. There was just so much to take in, and being trapped in the sheikh’s luxurious plane only made things worse. Everywhere she looked, Harper was confronted with the colossal difference between their lifestyles. While the sheikh had set out to work in his office, Melina had taken over in entertaining Harper, giving her a more extensive introduction to the various recreational activities on board.
The plane had a fully stocked library of the newest titles for both books and movies, and there was also a mini gaming center that offered the latest console games as well as a pool table. Harper had done her best to enjoy herself, but in the end, she just found herself dwelling more and more on the differences between them.
They didn’t just belong to different worlds, dammit. They were universes apart, and he should’ve known that, too—-
So why had he still offered marriage to someone like her?
When Harper joined the sheikh for dinner, she had worked hard to mentally prepare herself, determined to play it cool. But then she saw him dressed all glamorously in a tux –
Her knees quaked.
And it had been all downhill from there.
Harper hadn’t been able to look him in the eye after that, much less answer his questions coherently. The food the crew served them looked exquisite, but Harper hadn’t been able to enjoy it either. She was so darn nervous she was worried if she tried taking in more than a few bites, she’d end up puking it all out.
“You aren’t eating much,” the sheikh suddenly said. “Is the food not to your liking?”
“Everything tastes delicious.” Or at least she believed it was.
The sheikh suddenly came to his feet, and she jerked in her seat. “Is something wrong?” she blurted out.
“It’s not good for you to lose your appetite while airborne.” The sheikh started walking towards her as he spoke, causing her to tense. “We still have about twelve hours of travel ahead of us.” And the closer he got, the tenser she became, that by the time he reached her Harper was stiff as a board, eyes glued to the carpeted floor. She had a feeling if she looked at him...
“You must eat.” The words were delivered in a gently commanding tone.