Page 27 of Her Arabian King

“There is no need to hesitate in voicing out your thoughts, qalifa.” The sheikh’s tone was gentle. “Asking questions do not mean you have committed to the idea of marrying me. I promised you a week, and a week you will have to think about it.”

Harper was relieved and grateful to hear the sheikh’s assurance, but even though she knew she should thank him for it, she just...couldn't. She just wasn’t that type of person. And so in the end she heard herself grumbling, “I knew that.”

The sheikh’s lips pressed together, once again suppressing his smile, which he knew would only rouse her sweet little temper.

“So...do you have questions?”

“Just a few.” Harper kept her voice deliberately casual. “Not that I’m worried about anything, but I just like to be clear with stuff.” Unfortunately, her voice squeaked in the end, betraying her nervousness, and Harper’s cheeks flushed. Shiiiiiit. Squaring her shoulders, she decided to start again and after clearing her throat, she asked, “What about my father?”

“He will live with us in the palace, if he chooses to accept our invitation, which I hope he will.”

“Oh.” She had not expected that at all, and if she were honest, it was so much better than she had hoped for.

“Any other questions?”

“What about me?” she muttered. “What do you expect me to do if we...”

“Marry?”

She nodded.

“You can say it, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then say it.” And this time, his dark eyes were laughing at her, damn sheikh.

“I don’t want to.”

“Because you can’t.”

“Because I’d rather not.”

“How disappointing,” the sheikh murmured with a mock sigh. “I had never thought my future queen would be a coward—-”

“I’m not a coward,” she growled. “And fine, if it means so much to you – I want to know what you expect of me if we marry.” Harper’s eyes threw daggers at the sheikh. “Happy now?”

“Beyond ecstatic, saghira. I can only imagine how much sexier it would be once you start talking dirty.”

Her? Talk dirty? To him? And just like the damn sheikh had planned, erotic images once again flashed in her mind. Harper locked in the sheikh’s embrace, moaning, Fuck me. Cum inside me. Make me your slut—-

No, no, no.

Her eyes flew to the sheikh’s, and again he was smirking. “Care to share what you were thinking just then, anisdi?”

“I’d rather cut my tongue off.”

“A pity.” But the way his eyes were laughing at her told Harper he already had a fairly good idea of what she had been thinking. Damn sheikh.

“Perhaps I can persuade you to change your mind tonight,” the sheikh said huskily.

Harper jerked. “Tonight?” What did he mean tonight? But the sheikh had already moved on to a different topic, enlisting the duties of his future queen and his manner so business-like she just couldn’t make herself ask.

“You will have your own secretary to keep track of your appointments as well as the events that you are expected to attend with me. You will also be expected to join the board of your favorite charities and help them raise funds.”

“What about my studies?”

The sheikh’s face became serious. “That, I am sorry to say, must be temporarily put on hold. Your first year as queen will be busy, but after that, I will be more than happy to support you in continuing with your studies in one of our universities.” Khalil paused. “I am sorry for this, Harper. I know how much it means to you.”

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