Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
And if you’re asked who...
The Emir Sheikh (too much of a hard sell, everyone’s watching him too closely)
Sheikh Altair (improbable, not the type to court controversy by having a secret affair with a teenager)
Sheikh Malik (spends too much time away from the palace)
Sheikh Tarif (lifestyle as a playboy is too well-documented to make anyone believe someone like her could ever be his type)
It had taken Hyacinth only a grand total of five seconds to assimilate all such thoughts, and as soon as the only viable answer came to her, she didn’t let herself entertain any doubts of fears. She simply went and outright said it.
“Did Al Afea send you?”
The man slowly sheathed his gun at her words, and she nearly expired in relief. Oh, thank God. She had done the right thing then. Al Afea was another name that Sheikh Rayyan Al-Atassi answered to, and Hyacinth had been hoping that the air of mystery that constantly shrouded the royal sheikh would make her lie more believable.
Forcing herself to meet the man’s gaze, she demanded, “Did you not hear what I said? Because the sheikh will not be pleased at all if he sees his woman—-” Her voice died when she saw the man reach for his helmet.
Oh. Shit.
She had watched too many true crime shows not to know how much danger she was in, and Hyacinth slowly took a step back. If he was willing to show her his face, then it only meant one thing. He wasn’t worried she would be able to identify him – because he had no plans of keeping her alive.
The helmet clattered to the ground, and the moment he reached for the edge of his balaclava, Hyacinth spun around to take advantage of his momentary blindness and make a run for it.
But she had barely been able to take several steps when long, hard fingers curled around her wrist and hauled her back.
She screamed. She kicked and thrashed against him. She gave him as good as she got, hell bent on fighting to her dying breath –
“Stop struggling!”
“Stop, dammit!”
“Will you just look at me—-”
The man’s words eventually penetrated the haze of terror that had clouded her mind, and even though she dared not stop pummeling his chest and doing all she could to knee him in the groin, she did let her gaze move up to her assailant’s face –
“HOLY FUCK!”
Startled at the expletive, Rayyan unconsciously loosened his grip on her just as Hyacinth made another attempt to free herself. She succeeded this time and backed away as soon as she could. Too soon as it turned out because the next thing she knew, she was falling and falling and falling –
Thud.
Hyacinth couldn’t tell which hurt worse: her ego or her ass. All she knew was how her embarrassment was growing with every second, more so when she saw the sheikh slowly crouch down in front of her.
“Well, anisdi...” Rayyan paused. “This certainly isn’t the kind of reaction I was hoping to get from my woman.”
A strangled sound escaped Hyacinth.
Oh. My. God.
Shit, shit, shit.
She had forgotten about that.
“And for the record—-” She saw his gaze dip down. “White underwear isn’t a favorite of mine.”
Too late, she realized she was still sprawled on the ground, her legs wide open, and her abaya falling all the way back to her waist.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Three
“You look a little...lost,” Anisah remarked as she joined Hyacinth at the breakfast table. “Everything okay?”
Well...there was the fact that she had accidentally shown Rayyan Al-Atassi her panties a few days ago, and she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of it since then, but other than that?
“Just worried about finals,” she lied. “But it’s nothing too many hours at the library won’t fix.”
Anisah flashed her a smile. “That’s true. I’m so glad you’re always thinking positively about these things.”
Hyacinth only allowed herself to relax when Anisah started talking about work while pouring honey all over her pancake until the latter was drowning in it. Sweet, meet Tooth, Hyacinth thought, and she suppressed a smile, knowing how her serious-minded sister considered her love for sweets a shameful source of weakness.
Must be a genetic thing, Hyacinth thought absently, considering how much she hated the way she had developed a sudden but perfectly normal infatuation with Rayyan Al-Atassi. The man was an international heartthrob, after all, and a girl had to be blind to be immune to the man’s looks.
For all I know, she reasoned to herself, this stupid, heart-thumping obsession over him could be nothing but a delayed response to Stockholm syndrome.
Either way, this horrible fixation of hers was going to pass sooner or later, so she had to stop making a big deal of it.
Anisah waved Hyacinth off when she was done with breakfast. “Go on, I’ll take care of the dishes. I’ll see you at school later. Is there anything you want to tell me before I meet your teachers?”