Page 25 of My Arabian Billionaire

She couldn’t help interrupting him, muttering, “There must be a thousand others at least who also specialize in Ramilian history---”

The sheikh dismissed this with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “True. But I don’t want to fuck them.” And his gaze captured hers. “I want to fuckyou.”

Her mouth opened and closed, her toes curled, and her heart – ah, shit, oh, shit. It swayed like it was a ballroom dancer on steroids, and she quickly closed her eyes in a futile attempt to deny the truth. Damn sheikh. She was sensible, unsociable Harper Griffiths. Most guys wouldn’t have dared say that to her face. And yet this damn sheikh did, and he was right to do so because –

It actually meant a lot to her, Harper realized shamefully. She liked – no, she loved knowing the sheikh wanted her so, and he knew it. How the hell had he known when she had only realized thisnow?

The sheikh suddenly took her hand, and her eyes flewopen.

“Harper.” His voice was a sweet, soft caress.

Her heart swayed, and Harper thought, this was bad. She immediately tried tugging her hand away, desperate to free herself from the heat of his touch, but the sheikh’s grip was inflexible.

“Marryme.”

“I can’t---”

“Yes.” His voice was firm, but his gaze was coaxing, seducing her into a state of submission. “You can.” And so very softly, he said, “Youwill.”

Shit. Oh, shit. Those eyes of his were too dangerous. “At least g-give metime---”

“I cannot.” And this time, the sheikh’s lips briefly pressed together. “I know you deserve time to think about this, but it is the one thing I cannot afford to giveyou.”

Harper listened with a frown as the sheikh explained about his grandfather’s will, which only the royal family’s legal council was privy to. Among other things, Khalil was to marry within a hundred days of his ascension – or risk losing the throne.

“When are your one hundred days up?” she asked.

“Two weeks fromnow.”

Oh. She gulped. Two weeks. Wasn’t that too soon to decide whether to marry someone?

“And for the marriage to have the proper preparation, I would need at least aweek.”

Worse and worse, Harper thought. “In other words, there’s really just aweek---”

“Nem.” The sheikh looked at her. “Those are all my cards on the table, qalifa. Now, it is your turn to make a decision. Will you marryme?”

“I…” The sheikh brought her hand to his mouth as she spoke, and she stiffened. “What do you think you’re doing?”

It was her shrill tone again, the sheikh thought, amused. It would have been an instant turn-off where other women were concerned, but with Harper – it only made him smile…and wonder how long it would take before he could turn her screeches into moans and whimpers.

Harper was still doing her best to pull her hand away, to which the sheikh retaliated by licking herpalm.

Harper gasped.

He moved to her fingers, nibbling on thetips.

Her gasp turned into amoan.

Mission accomplished, the sheikh thought, only this time his erection ached more painfully thanever.

When he released her fingers, he murmured wickedly, “That’s just a taste of how good it will be betweenus.”

Hours later, and Harper still couldn’t make herself stop blushing every time she thought of the sheikh’s words and the things that had happened between them. He had asked her to marry him. In one week’s time. And he had promised the fucking would beso---

Harper mentally shook her head. Don’t go there, stupid.

Her mind reeled anew. There was just so much to take in, and being trapped in the sheikh’s luxurious plane only made things worse. Everywhere she looked, Harper was confronted with the colossal difference between their lifestyles. While the sheikh had set out to work in his office, Melina had taken over in entertaining Harper, giving her a more extensive introduction to the various recreational activities on board.

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