Chapter Seven

It was almostone in the morning when the sheikh joined Harper in his suite. She was already fast sleep, curled under the covers, and her hair spread against the pillows like a blanket of cinnamon-coloredsilk.

For a long time, he simply looked at her, letting his gaze feast on her delicate face. In her sleep, she looked even more innocent than usual, so much younger than her twenty-three years –

Was he really going to make this woman shoulder all the burdens of being his queen?

Most women would have jumped at his offer of marriage instantly – that was a given. Those women would only have thought about the money they could spend as his queen, the adulation they would receive, and the power and authority that came with the position. None of them would have bothered to worry about the duties that came with it, none of them would care – and because they didn’t care, being a queen would have been easy forthem.

But it would be different for his Harper. He knew this deep in his bones, knew it the way a soul recognized its kindred. Duty and honor meant a lot to Harper, not only because she was Howard Griffiths’ daughter, but also because she was simply that kind of woman. She was, in many ways, born to be his other half, destined to care about the same things he did, destined to serve and suffer besidehim.

Her life as his queen would be as much heaven and hell, and knowing this made the sheikh feel guilty. It almost made him want to tell her to forget everything, to forgethim.

But he couldn’t.

Because he hadn’t been lying when he told her he needed her – and so did his kingdom.

* * *

When Harper woke,it was to the unusual feeling of warmth, and of strong, hard arms wrapped around---

Her?

She stiffened.

Was this a dream?

Her gaze roamed the room wildly, and reality crashed on her. She was in the sheikh’s private plane, she had fallen asleep in the suite Melina directed her to, and now she was sharing a bed with the sheikh.

Harper immediately tried to get up, but the arms around her tightened.

Shit.

A moment later, she was flat on her back, the sheikh looming over her as the covers fell from his body, revealing his naked chest.

SHIT.

“You’re awake.” His voice was scratchy from sleep.

“Sorry for waking you up,” she muttered while keeping her gaze firmly trained on his neck. Any other part of his body was definitely off-limits. “If you let me go, I can just move to another---”

“This is where you belong, anisdi.”

“Umm, nope.” But the words came out a squeak as the sheikh suddenly moved, and this time he was now firmly between her legs, his phallus nestled against the folds of her pussy.

Her very wet pussy, which she had a nasty feeling he was much aware of because---

“Why are you naked?”

The sheikh winced at the shrill tone. “I always sleep likethis---”

“But I’mhere!”

She was still shrieking, but now that he was fully awake, it didn’t bother him as much now, and the sheikh’s gaze gleamed with amusement as he studied her flushed face. “All the more reason to be naked, anisdi.”

“This isn’t funny.” She was in bed with the sheikh, and he was naked. Her mind reeled, her teeth gnashed, but oh, how it made her pussy so much wetter. “Just let me go.” She pounded his chest and tried to shove him off but the sheikh was unmovable, and his powerful shoulders only rocked with silent laughter.

“I wanted to wake you up,” the sheikh murmured, “but I figured you needed morerest.”