Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Altair inclined his head in agreement. "As a matter of fact, there is one course of action I'd like to take." He paused. "And it will require an engagement ring." He saw his brothers stiffen and raised his hand mid-air to forestall their protests. "Hear me out first. Offspring of individuals like Mahmud are usually one of two types," Altair stated. "They've either been groomed to follow in their parents' footsteps from the onset...or they've been made to lead sheltered lives, for one reason or another."
Altair gestured to the reports his soldier had handed out earlier. "Based on the data our informants have provided, we have reason to strongly believe it's the latter in Princess Safiya's case."
"And since you mentioned an engagement ring earlier," Khalil said slowly, "are you thinking of having one of us make the princess fall in love...in order to use her against her own father?"
LADY AFAF WAS GETTING bored. Selfies could only be fun up to a certain amount of time, and it became even less enjoyable when one was a reluctant participant in a class field trip to the royal mosque.
And now this!
Afaf marched down the narrow aisle of the bus to demand for an explanation from the substitute professor handling their class. "Why aren't we being allowed to get off the bus? It's been over half an hour since we arrived!"
"The imam received an unexpected visitor," the older woman responded briskly.
The answer pissed Afaf off even more, but since this substitute professor was rather notorious for being "unappreciative" of her students' wealthy and noble backgrounds, Afaf had no choice but to stalk back to her seat.
Fifteen more minutes passed before their bus was cleared to enter the premises, and the identity of the imam's unexpected visitor became thrillingly evident when their bus cruised down the driveway and the mosque gradually came into view.
The courtyard was practically crawling with palace guards, and Afaf and the other girls started shrieking excitedly when they realized the Imam's unexpected visitor could only be a member of the royal family.
The girls could barely wait until their resigned-looking professor allowed them to disembark, and the first few moments were one of feverish madness.
Who could be the first one among them to post a selfie with the royal security in their background?
Who could have the most likes?
Who could—-oh my word, was that true?
One of the girls had managed to wrangle an important piece of news: the Imam's royal visitor turned out to be none other than Sheikh Altair Al-Atassi, Ramil's greatest living warrior!
More shrieks ensued, and the girls' substitute professor began to have a headache.
"Jamaea!" Professor! "Who do you think among us three would Sheikh Altair find most attractive?"
None of you, Professor Anisah Kahveci thought. It was the truth, too, but because these girls were only her students for a day and thus undeserving of her honesty, Anisah simply answered vaguely and hoped that would be the end of it.
Unfortunately, the girls proved annoyingly insistent.
"But you are a ward of the palace, aren't you, Professor?" Afaf asked impatiently. "Surely you must have an inkling of what the sheikh finds attractive."
She probably did, but Anisah doubted the girls would appreciate the truth. Sheikh Altair was first and foremost a man of tradition. He would never be attracted to girls who spent more time on their cellphones than their books or girls whose makeup was so heavy it could have passed off as a niqab all on its own. Most importantly of all, Sheikh Altair was a patriot, and for this reason alone, Afaf - who had voluntarily given up her Ramilian citizenship for an American green card - stood absolutely no chance at capturing the sheikh's interest.
A noisy commotion at the back distracted Afaf into looking over her shoulder, and all at once she forgot about waiting for the professor's answer.
Sheikh Altair had appeared!
Afaf and her friends rushed to join the other students in trying to get past the human barricade of the sheikh's security.
Alshaykh! Sheikh! We love you so much!
Anisah wrinkled her nose as the cries of her students reached a near-deafening volume. Oh well. It had only been a few months since the king and his vassals rode dashingly to the queen's rescue.
This kind of adulation was only to be expected, Anisah decided. Personally, she thought it a little too much, but since the students' hysterics appeared harmless, it was best to simply wait for the girls' excitement to die a natural death.
Afaf, meanwhile, was already lost in her own daydreams. He's so large and powerful. I bet he's going to crush me in bed.
The other girls' thoughts pretty much echoed the same thing, and many found themselves wet and horny just staring at the sheikh's exceptionally formidable build. Since Ramilian men were generally known for their leaner physiques, the sheikh's particularly brawny build called into mind mythical heroes of old. Add to that the fiercely carved edges of Altair's handsome features along with the infamous scar that ran from his left eyelid down to his jaw, and the result was one devastatingly attractive man made even sexier by his air of brutal strength.