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)
“If that is what you want, anisdi—-” Ice coated the sheikh’s voice. “Then clearly I need to look for another mistress.”
Jemima wasn’t even given a chance to apologize. The sheikh had already turned to walk away, leaving his coldly uttered ‘anisdi’ still ringing in her ears. It meant ‘milady,’ and it was the only one way he referred to her. It was also fitting, considering how after all these years Jemima had not once been permitted to refer to the sheikh without his title – not even when they were alone, not even when she was riding his cock and giving him her all, body and soul.
A limousine was already waiting by the curb when Rayyan left his mistress’ apartment, and he nodded his thanks to the chauffeur as he slipped inside the vehicle. Leaning back against the luxurious cream leather, he pulled his phone out and was instantly bombarded by a frantic stream of text messages from his PA.
Gadi: Your Esteemed Highness, Beloved Prince of the Desert, The Great Serpent of Ramil, your royal presence is urgently needed, for a damsel in distress is in dire need of your aid. The lady is quite beside herself and I fear her tears will flow for as long as she is unable to gaze upon our strong and brave Al Afea!
An image formed in his mind as he read Gadi’s message for the second time. Normally, his PA’s rather quixotic tendency to turn into a medieval poet wannabe whenever he was overwrought exasperated the sheikh, but in this instance, Gadi’s flowery but befuddling speech proved to be a welcome sight.
Only one girl could cause such havoc if she so willed, and Rayyan’s lingering irritation at Jemima’s presumptuousness was all but forgotten by the time he started typing his reply.
Rayyan: Are you talking about Hyacinth Kahveci?
Gadi: o_O
Gadi: But however did you know, Your Highness?
Gadi: Sheikh?
Gadi: Alshaykh? Are you still there?
When he arrived at his office, the scene before him was exactly as he expected: a tearful Hyacinth seated on one of the luxurious high-backed chairs before his desk and Gadi pacing and wringing his hands anxiously while waiting for his employer.
“Allah is good,” the younger man exclaimed gratefully as soon as the sheikh strode inside.
“Thank you for keeping milady company, Gadi,” Rayyan murmured.
“Nothing is too much for the sheikh’s future bride,” Gadi declared passionately.
“Of...course.” The sheikh’s gaze bored through Hyacinth at the other man’s words, but the cheeky brat kept her head bent low, gaze fixed demurely on the floor, and hands piously clasped together on her lap.
“I’m sure you already know this, but I will appreciate your discretion about this matter, which I still wish to keep private in light of Hyacinth’s age.”
“I will breathe not a single word, not even with a sword to my throat, a gun to my head—-”
“Thank you, Gadi.” Hyacinth had to swallow back a laugh at the speed in which the sheikh pulled the brakes at his assistant’s fervent declaration of loyalty. But then she heard Rayyan Al-Atassi request for a moment of privacy with his “future bride” and her smile instantly disappeared.
Anytime now, she thought with a gulp.
As soon as the door closed behind Gadi, she heard the sheikh say dryly, “You may drop the act, anisdi. It is only the two of us.”
Hyacinth slowly raised her gaze to the sheikh. “I can, umm, explain.”
“Please do so.”
The sheikh’s handsome face gave away nothing as he listened to her request, and Hyacinth had to bite her lip hard to keep herself from demanding a reaction from him.
“So, let me see if I got this straight, anisdi,” Rayyan murmured as soon as the girl finished speaking. “You wish for my help in convincing your homeroom teacher that I am the one behind your, err, fake smiles?”
“Mrs. Bauer thinks I’m hiding something—-”
“Mrs. Bauer?”
“My homeroom teacher,” Hyacinth clarified impatiently.
“And rather than telling her the truth...”
“Which is the fact that I’m an evil bitch...”
“You would rather have your teacher think you were having an affair with me instead?”
“Uh huh.” Hyacinth took a deep breath, knowing that what would come next was the hardest part. The sheikh would naturally ask her why she believed he would be a party to such a deception, and she had already prepared several reasons to feed him with.
First, she would try to pamper his ego, say that he was the only one she could depend on, and then she would also appeal to his kindness, which whether he liked it or not, was something he was known for, and if all else failed, she would have to blackmail him.
After all, she was no idiot. He was a royal sheikh, and yet he had chosen to take the back door – so to speak – to return to the palace, and that was in spite of the fact he had appeared to be in dire need of medical attention.