Page 6 of Her Arabian King

An Arabian prince come to life, she had thought foolishly back then, and if he had also chosen to don the headdress that came with it, she would have probably been tempted to rub her eyes and blink, wondering if the prince from the history book she was reading had somehow managed to leap off the pages.

But then his words sank in and she scowled up at the stranger, saying frostily, “I’m not a little girl.” She really, really hated how petite she was, more so when the guy she had been crushing on in high school had once told Harper she looked like she was still in middle school.

“Sorry, my bad.”

The colloquial words, as well as the way it was delivered so easily, had her blinking. Who was this guy? He looked local, but he sounded as American as her.

“I’m Jeremy, by the way.” And with that, Harper’s question had been answered, and the guy’s lips twisted when her eyes widened in recognition. “I’m guessing you know who I am?”

“Prince Khalid’s son.”

“You mean, his illegitimate son.”

“A son is a son is a son.”

He blinked. “Is that...supposed to make sense?”

“Yup.” Harper was equally puzzled. “Why wouldn’t it?”

After a moment, the guy simply smiled. “You’re right. A son is a son is a son.”

She looked at him suspiciously, asking, “Why do I get the feeling you’re just humoring me?”

“That would be an ungentlemanly thing to do, don’t you think?”

Harper opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t seem like much of a gentleman to her, but he beat her to speaking, murmuring, “You still haven’t told me your name.” And the way his eyes gleamed told her it was deliberate. He had known exactly what he hadn’t let her say.

She glared at him, but the guy’s lips only curved in a wider smile.

More dazzling, too, Harper thought, uneasily.

“Your name,” he prodded gently.

“Harper,” she answered reluctantly after a beat.

“Harper.” He spoke as if tasting her name on his tongue, and she scowled, just so she wouldn’t accidentally blush. Why did hearing this guy saying her name make it feel like he was tasting...her?

The guy’s gaze moved towards the book she was holding. “What are you reading?”

“History.”

“How surprising.”

“Why?” Harper felt defensive.

“Because most girls your age would probably be into Teen Vogue, I suppose.”

“Well, I’m not like most girls.”

“I’m beginning to realize that.”

She smiled stiffly then pointedly returned her attention to her history book, hoping that he would leave her alone after that.

Unfortunately, it was only the beginning. She knew that most people would see what happened afterwards was Jeremy Raybourne taking her under his wings, but that was not the case at all. Every time they bumped into each other, he would make it a point to greet her warmly, like they were long-lost friends. And when the public began to take notice, and a bold member of the press had dared to ask about their relationship, Jeremy had said smoothly, I see her as a sister, as Harper is an honorary daughter of our kingdom, by virtue of her father’s heroics and her own allegiance to our history.

And life changed forever after that, Harper thought grumpily as she angrily jabbed another piece of lamb on her plate before popping it into her mouth. Men hadn’t stopped flocking to her side since then, all of them hoping to gain the future king’s favor by dating his so-called honorary sister. And since turning them down continued to be a daily struggle even now, Harper was gloomily aware that her chances of finding her first boyfriend were dwindling close to zero.

And it was the damn sheikh’s fault, no one else’s.

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