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)
Oh.
Shit.
She had ended up doing that, hadn’t she?
And to think this was the man...who could never be hers.
Looking at him, she whispered, “What are you doing here, really?”
“To say sorry for one.” The sheikh’s jaw hardened. “And I know, there are a thousand damn things I should be sorry about.”
“Go on.”
A crooked smile flashed over his lips at the way she mimicked his tone. It was nice to know, Rayyan thought, she had managed to keep her sense of humor despite all the heartbreak he caused her.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“The beginning maybe?”
“Well then, there was a girl named Cecile—-”
She scowled. “Okay, we can skip that part.”
“And I loved her.”
“I really don’t want to hear this—-”
“I loved her for so damn long that I didn’t even notice when love ceased to be something I felt and turned into something I just...did.”
“A habit,” Hyacinth said shakily.
“Nem.” Yes. “And it was a habit that harmed the one I truly loved—-”
Ah. Was she really hearing this? Was she? She pointed to herself and managed to sound teasing as she asked, “Li’l ole me, you mean?”
“Li’l ole you, yes,” Rayyan agreed without missing a beat. “Otherwise known as Hyacinth Kahveci.”
Silence.
“I did say I wanted it to be you,” he said tautly, “more than anyone else in the world. Remember?”
But still, she only looked at him, lips trembling even as no words spilled past them.
“Hyacinth?”
And then she slowly started to shake her head, and his heart started to break.
He could see it in her eyes, could practically hear the words she was steeling herself to say.
I’m sorry. I can’t trust you. I’m sorry.
His heartbeat turned frantic at the thought of losing her.
Hyacinth was about to speak when she noticed the sheikh suddenly looking around her tent as if in search for something. “Rayyan? What’s—-” The sheikh’s gaze landed on the bread knife she had left next to an empty plate on the stool, and to Hyacinth’s shock, Rayyan had suddenly taken hold of the knife. “Rayyan?”
And the sheikh used the knife on his palm.
“RAYYAN, oh my God—-”
And because it was never meant to cut skin, it took too many times – oh God, just too damn many –before the dull edge of the knife finally managed to cut his palm open, and blood began to drip out.
“Oh my God.” Hyacinth was beside herself. “Rayyan, oh my God—-” She hated herself for being so silly and redundant, but she had never been good with stuff like this, and she could feel herself growing faint.
And then the sheikh suddenly took hold of her hand and pressed his open wound to her.
Oh.
It was an ancient tradition, one of the ways in which their ancestors made a vow.
“I swear by the blood of Al-Atassi, the royal house of Ramil, my heart is yours, Hyacinth Kahveci, and it always will be.”
Blue eyes captured hers.
“So...please.” The sheikh’s tone turned raw. “Please believe me.”
Uncertainty locked her lungs, making it hard for her to breathe.
“I have never lied to you,” Rayyan said hoarsely. “You know that—-”
“But you’ve lied to yourself,” she couldn’t help pointing out, “and you never even knew you were doing it. So how do we know you’re not lying now?”
“Because of this.” He pressed his bleeding hand harder to hers. “Do you understand what this means?”
“History’s actually more Anisah’s thing—-”
“It means I’m yours to command. I am your slave, eternally. I no longer have a name because I’m yours. Even if you do not want me – I am and will always be yours.”
Her heart splintered. These words. They were...too much. Her head lowered, unable to bear the sight of the naked pain on his face.
“Hyacinth. Please.”
Tears rushed to her throat.
Don’t listen, H. Don’t. Don’t.
“I am begging you – take me back.”
Rayyan waited for her to speak, but instead of answering, Hyacinth, still avoiding his gaze, reached for the discarded niqab from her makeshift bed and slowly began wrapping –
NO!
“Rayyan—-”
He tried to pull his hand away without hurting her. “No.”
“I just—-”
“I can’t let you do that.” His voice was savage. “I just can’t—-”
“But you could bleed to death!”
“Better that,” he snarled, “than let you reject me from your life.”
Confusion flickered in her eyes. “I just want to stop you from bleeding.”
Rayyan stilled.
“I’m starting to think we’re speaking at cross purposes here.”
“If you stop the wound from bleeding without accepting my vow, it means you are rejecting it.”
Oh.
“I did tell you history isn’t my strongest—-” Her words ended in a gasp as she suddenly found herself lying on her back, the sheikh looming over her.
“Hyacinth.”
Her toes curled at the sound of her name on his lips. Too long, oh God, it’s been too long.
Oh, H.
You have it so, so, so bad.
As always.
“Please.”
Her eyes stung. “It doesn’t suit you to sound humble.”
“I apologize.” His voice was low. “But I can’t help it. I have much to lose—-”