Page 20 of His Scarlette Obsession
Oh, the arrogance of this sheikh isnothot.
Really.
“You...you can’t just order me around like one of your employees—”
“Of course not.” His lips curve in a smirk. “I’m ordering you around like my fiancée. So be a good girl,habibti,and make sure you are ready by seven.”
Lykan
My Scarlette steps out of the apartment building and I forget how to breathe.
It’s a low-cut red satin corset with lace panels at the side, cinched to show off her absurd little waist. The skirt’s a single layer of chiffon, shorter in the front, scandalously sheer when backlit, and there’s a tiny silk cape draped over her shoulders, hood up, framing her flushed face and shining eyes.
She’s dressed like a storybook fantasy, but the look on her face makes it seem like every step she makes is torture. She’s gripping her tiny red clutch like it’s her only shield against the world, and a blush steals over her cheeks when she finally notices me waiting by the limo.
“You look exquisite,habibti.”
“I’ve never worn something like this.”
“I would hope not.” I then open the car door and gesture her in, and once we’re both inside, I hit the privacy button before turning to her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks nervously.
“Because you make me want to fuck you.Hard.”
My Scarlette chokes, turns red, and gasps all at the same time.
And I find it very...cute.
“S-Stop teasing me!”
“I’m simply stating a fact, Ms. Hood.”
She slowly shakes her head. “I don’t understand you. I truly don’t. Why can’t you see...how can’t you see that the two of us don’t make sense?”
If it were any other woman asking me this, I would have long been bored out of my mind, and likely annoyed. All the words would have sounded coy and patently false. But my fiancée, however...
Scarlette is different, and it’s why, for better or for worse...
“There are some things in life that you simply know.”
I’ve made up my mind about her.
“Do you not agree?”
“I...don’t know.”
“That man, for instance.”
Her head snaps toward me. “Vaughn?”
“How long have you known him?”
She fidgets, avoiding my gaze. “Practically my whole life.”
“And yet deep down inside—” I lean closer, watching the color drain from her face. “You’ve always known, haven’t you?”
Her tongue wets her lower lip, and I almost groan. “Known what?”
