Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Nothing to worry about, I promise.”
She bit her lip. “But there are things we should talk about, shouldn’t we?”
“There is,” the sheikh said simply, and when Kyria slowly nodded, he knew she understood and remembered one of the first lessons palace life had taught them. Private matters may only be spoken in equally private places, and St. Valentine’s newest and hottest club definitely wasn’t one of those.
It was already a few minutes past one in the morning by the time Malik and Kyria left the club and said their goodbyes to a deeply grateful and still visibly euphoric Farica. When they reached the lobby, Kyria suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and looked up at him. “Malik?”
“Mm?”
“May I sleep at your place tonight?”
His heart banged against his chest. “Ah.” He cleared his throat. “Of course.”
Her smile of relief was a sweet sight. An ordinary brother would probably find it cute, but it just made Malik want to—-
Kiss her. Touch her. Fuck her.
“I promise I won’t be any trouble,” Kyria was saying. Her smile turned sheepish, and then she said shyly, “I just...missed you.”
The sheikh forced a smile even as his entire body clenched with desire. “It is the same with me, Ky. I missed you a lot, too—-”
His words broke off as Kyria threw herself at him, her arms winding around his neck in what seemed like an impulsive embrace. “I’m so glad...” Her voice was muffled with her face against the crook of his neck. “I have you back in my life.”
His arms went around her, and the sheikh said gruffly, “So am I.” And he still meant this, regardless of the consequences.
While waiting for Kyria to return from the powder room at the lobby, the sheikh caught sight of Emmanuel’s too-stoic look and felt defensive. “What?”
“I haven’t said a word, Your Highness.”
“It’s going to be fine,” he snapped. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
“Of course.”
He glared at his bodyguard. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said tersely, “and I’m telling you, nothing will happen.”
“Isaiah 55:8,” the bodyguard said rather piously. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my—-”
“Making a dig at me using the Bible, old man?” The sheikh’s fulminating gaze was filled with distaste. “Don’t you think that’s beneath you—-”
Kyria rejoined them then, asking curiously, “What’s beneath Emmanuel?”
After shooting a threatening look at Emmanuel, he turned to Kyria, saying smoothly, “Nothing to concern you. Ready to go, Ky?”
For the rest of the ride, the sheikh peppered Kyria with questions about her life in St. Valentine, which she happily answered. Although Altair and Vanna had also filled him in about this in the past years, it was different when hearing the words from Kyria herself. His family had told him that Kyria had remained as uninterested in dating as she had been when living in the palace, and now Malik could see it was true. She seemed content enough when talking of her life in Contini, but her eyes only glowed when she talked about her life back home...and him.
UPON REACHING THE HOTEL where Malik was currently checked in, Emmanuel bid them goodnight and then it was just Kyria and the sheikh. Unlike their ride back, which had been filled by laughter and conversation, their walk to his suite was quiet. It wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either, and it was beginning to dawn on Kyria that she might have been a little too...impulsive?
Her eyes squeezed shut in despair. Sweet heavens, had she really asked the sheikh if she could sleep at his place tonight? She had only asked it because she had wanted to talk to him in private, but now that she had more time to think about it, the more it seemed like a bad idea—-
“Kyria, wait—-”
She looked up, but it was too late, and she ended up walking straight into a door and nearly knocking herself out.
“Owww!” Straightening, she rubbed her forehead and looked up at the sheikh. His handsome face was expressionless, but the gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. “Go ahead,” she said dourly. “You can laugh.”
“You know I won’t do that.” His voice was gentle, but the amusement in his eyes was gleaming even more brightly, and at that moment he looked too adorably handsome for words—-
Her head snapped back just as her heart threatened to leap out of her chest.
Oh, Gates of Heaven, it was just as she feared.
From the corner of her eye, Kyria noticed the sheikh frown and knew he had felt her sudden tension. She wished she could apologize, but she also knew that was impossible. Right now, even the mere thought of looking at him in the eye was too much to contemplate.
Inside his suite, which was as vast and luxurious as one would expect, the sheikh gave her a swift tour: an open-layout living room, a shared balcony for the living room and the master’s, a library, and finally the spare bedroom where she would stay.