Harper had not spoken for fifteen minutes now. Khalil didn’t mind, and while her silence had initially surprised him, he realized after a while that it was exactly like her to react like this. Although her temper tended to have a short fuse over the smallest of things, Harper was the opposite in the moments that mattered. He recalled a story about her once, the first time she had heard of her father’s injury and the possibility that he would never walk again. She had been silent for a long while, and then – while her father had been in the operating room for hours – she had started reading books. Started talking to doctors. Started asking about the funds that were available to soon-to-be-decommissioned soldiers like Howard.

When Howard had woken up, his daughter was by his side, and she had the answers to all the questions he could ever want to ask.

Looking at her now, with her brows furrowed and her gaze darting to him once in a while, he knew she was thinking things through, considering and dismissing possibilities that did not fit his profile.

Was he insane? Was he joking? Why would he want to marry me?

Some questions she could answer herself, other questions –

He only had to wait until she asked them of him.

Meanwhile, he would simply enjoy looking his fill of her. She would be dynamite in a bikini, the sheikh thought with a frown. That was a good thing, but only if she wore the bikini in his presence alone. Everywhere else would be forbidden.

The thought had him shifting in his seat, the sheikh grimacing when he realized that imagining a bikini-clad Harper was enough to have his penis growing hard under his trousers.

“Sheikh?” It took a moment before the sheikh turned to face her, and she frowned, thinking he looked a little flushed. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.” Now was not the time to tell her he was thinking of fucking her. “You have made up your mind?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” She would really thump him if he were serious about that.

His smile was faintly apologetic. “I am rushing you then.”

“No kidding.”

Her tone was extremely sarcastic, but her eyes showed faint panic. He was sorry for this, but not enough that it would dissuade him from his objective. She was what he wanted, and he would have her. It was only a matter of when. Studying her face, he asked slowly, “May I at least think you are not rejecting my proposal outright?”

“I should,” she muttered, “if I were smarter.”

The sheikh frowned. “Why do you say this? Would it be so bad to be married to me?”

“Will I be the only woman you’re marrying?”

Ah. So she was worried about that. “I respect the dictates of Islam, but I was also baptized Catholic.”

Oh! She had not known about that.

“Also, to have more than one wife is not actually a requirement of Islam.”

“But it’s allowed,” she said darkly.

“In a nutshell, yes. But you need not worry about that. When I take you as my wife---”

“If you take me as your wife,” she corrected.

He ignored this. “It will only be you.”

Oh. He sounded so serious, so matter-of-fact, and her heart swayed just a little. Could she really believe that this was happening?

“Do you have other concerns?”

“Just one.” And she asked baldly, “Why me?”

“Because you are what my country and I need.”

Oh.

Okay.

Not.

Harper crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, sheikh.” Her tone was flat. “But I’m not buying it. How can I be what you and your country need?”

Khalil allowed himself a slight smile. “You do not think highly enough of yourself, qalifa.”

“I’m just being realistic.”

“What you are,” he countered mildly, “is being blind. Where do you wish me to start? Why I need you? To put it plainly, I need someone whose company I am certain to enjoy for a lifetime.”

She frowned. “Is that your way of saying you’d like to have someone you can bully for the rest of your life?”

He ignored that. “I also need someone who’s not a gold-digger.”

“How do you know I’m not?”

“You’d have jumped on my offer of marriage if you were.”

“What if I’m just pretending I’m not?”

“And you truly think I’d fall for such a ruse?”

Harper snorted. “You’re not that infallible, sheikh.”

“Perhaps. But rarely do I make the wrong call when judging people.”

She supposed she could accept that, knowing that his position as king had allowed him to meet all kinds of folks, and she highly doubted that all of them were nice and decent.

“Also---” Her eyes flew back to the sheikh at the word, and as soon as their gazes met, he drawled lazily, “I want to fuck you.”

Oh.

“To be specific: I want to fuck you more than I’ve ever wanted to fuck any woman in my life.”

Harper coughed, and when that wasn’t enough for her to get over her toe-curling embarrassment and shameful excitement, she scowled. She scowled as hard as she could, so that she wouldn’t be tempted to swoon. “Is that supposed to flatter me?”

“Does it not flatter you?”

Yeah. It did. But she would never let him know that. “Anyway,” she said gruffly. “Moving on.”

The sheikh smirked, not at all fooled by her tone. He would have liked to tease her more, but because they were pressed for time, he reluctantly set his urges aside for another day. Anyway, once they were married, she would be his to tease for the rest of their lives.

“What else do you wish to know? The requirements of my kingdom for its queen?”

“Wouldn’t they want someone who’s local?”

“That would have been expected for most other Arab nations, but ours is different. We have had a more open culture compared to our neighbors, and more than sixty percent of our population consists of foreign settlers. My people wish for progress more than anything else. They wish to move away from the years of bigotry and tyranny they had to suffer under my late grandfather’s rule. I, too, wish for the same thing, and I want my marriage to be a symbol of that. I want my own life to be proof that different cultures – even different religions – may co-exist peacefully and work side-by-side for the betterment of this kingdom.”

His quiet but impassioned words impressed Harper, but a tiny part of her felt a little hurt. In other words, didn’t that mean he was only choosing her for all the politically correct reasons? From here, even she could see why he had specifically chosen her. Her face was familiar to his people, and more than that they knew and loved her father, who was one of the kingdom’s most cherished modern-day heroes.

But was that enough to build a marriage on?

“You still doubt my reasons for choosing you.” The sheikh’s soft tone was more a statement than a question, and she nodded reluctantly.

“I just think there are more women who’d be more qualified---”

“But do they love my kingdom as much as you do?” Her startled glance made Khalil smile. “I love my kingdom, and it is what enables me to know the people who feel the same way about Ramil. You chose to specialize in Ramilian history, Harper---”

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 fuck you.”

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 this now?

The sheikh suddenly took her hand, and her eyes flew open.

“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.

“Marry me.”

“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, “You will.”

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

“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 give you.”

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 from now.”

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 a week.”

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

“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 marry me?”

“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 her palm.

Harper gasped.

He moved to her fingers, nibbling on the tips.

Her gasp turned into a moan.

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

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

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 be so---

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.

The plane had a fully stocked library of the newest titles for both books and movies, and there was also a mini gaming center that offered the latest console games as well as a pool table. Harper had done her best to enjoy herself, but in the end, she just found herself dwelling more and more on the differences between them.

They didn’t just belong to different worlds, dammit. They were universes apart, and he should’ve known that, too---

So why had he still offered marriage to someone like her?

When Harper joined the sheikh for dinner, she had worked hard to mentally prepare herself, determined to play it cool. But then she saw him dressed all glamorously in a tux –

Her knees quaked.

And it had been all downhill from there.

Harper hadn’t been able to look him in the eye after that, much less answer his questions coherently. The food the crew served them looked exquisite, but Harper hadn’t been able to enjoy it either. She was so darn nervous she was worried if she tried taking in more than a few bites, she’d end up puking it all out.

“You aren’t eating much,” the sheikh suddenly said. “Is the food not to your liking?”

“Everything tastes delicious.” Or at least she believed it was.

The sheikh suddenly came to his feet, and she jerked in her seat. “Is something wrong?” she blurted out.

“It’s not good for you to lose your appetite while airborne.” The sheikh started walking towards her as he spoke, causing her to tense. “We still have about twelve hours of travel ahead of us.” And the closer he got, the tenser she became, that by the time he reached her Harper was stiff as a board, eyes glued to the carpeted floor. She had a feeling if she looked at him…

“You must eat.” The words were delivered in a gently commanding tone.

“I know,” Harper growled. “But I can’t.” It was the shameful truth, but she would rather bite her tongue off than let him know that.

Khalil sighed. “Ah, qalifa.”

Her teeth gnashed even as she kept her gaze downcast. Yeah, yeah, so she was being a little girl about this. Was he happy now?

“Fortunately for you, I have a solution for this.”

Her eyes widened. He did?

The sheikh bent down, strong hands clasping her waist---

Oh!

“What the---”

Everything happened so fast, and the next thing she knew the sheikh had taken her chair and he had her seated…on his lap.

Oh. My. God.

Harper immediately tried to lunge off the sheikh’s lap, but his hands merely tightened, and she was as good as trapped. She twisted around immediately to face him, glaring at the sheikh. “Let me go.”

“I will,” he promised. “As soon as I finish feeding you.” His eyes gleamed at the end of his words, more so when Harper let out a gasp.

Feed her? Did he really think she would let him---

“Say ‘ah.’”

Her lips automatically parted, and in went the first bite of beautifully grilled lamb.

Shit.

It tasted good, but there was a lot of it, leaving her no choice but to chew as fast as she could so she could give the sheikh a piece of her mind. As soon as her mouth was empty, she started to speak---

“Taste this one, too.”

And her mouth was full again, this time with the creamy corn that had been served on the side.

And so it went on, with the sheikh continuously filling her mouth with both food and water and preventing her from speaking. There wasn’t even time for her to focus on how erotic things were, with him feeding her while she was on his lap. He kept her too busy chewing and drinking, and before she knew it, her dinner plate was clean, and he was asking her if he should now call for an aide to bring them coffee and dessert.

Harper was appalled. “Not like this!”

The sheikh appeared genuinely bemused at her words. “Not like what?”

“While I’m still on your lap, you bully.” Her tone was angry, and she told herself that was indeed the only thing she was feeling. Anger. Just anger, and not hurt, because it seemed that the sheikh was too used to having women on his lap he no longer saw anything wrong with it.

It took more than a few moments for Khalil to understand Harper’s discomfort, and it left him slightly incredulous. And if he must be honest, then it was a huge turn-on as well. He had always known Harper was untutored in the ways of men, but he hadn’t expected to feel this…pleased, with proof of her sweet innocence.

When she tried to scramble off his lap again, the sheikh let her go, and she told herself she was not disappointed. He stood up as well, pulling out a chair for her, and as she took a seat, she muttered, “Now, you can call for coffee.”

“As you command, anisdi.”

Harper turned red.

Khalil laughed. “Do not be embarrassed. As you will be my wife and queen---”

“I didn’t say---”

But the sheikh only continued as if he hadn’t heard her at all. “You will have a right to order me around.” His eyes glittered. “And I think I like the idea of you ordering me in the bedroom once in a while.”

Oooh. And Harper scowled, lest she forget herself. She was not going to imagine anything. She was not. But it was impossible, and soon enough her mind was filled with images of the sheikh undressing at her command, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing inch after inch of his gloriously hard chest---

Shit.

As her face heated up, her guilty gaze flew to the sheikh’s.

Shit.

His smirk was enough to tell her he knew what she had been fantasizing about.

“Want to give it a try later, anisdi?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied stiffly.

“Then perhaps I’ll be the one ordering you around---”

Oh, drat. “No one’s going to be ordering anyone,” she said firmly. “Okay?”

But the sheikh only smiled.

A pair of stewardesses entered the room after a moment, clearing the dishes, followed right after by another pair, this time to serve them coffee and dessert.

When they were alone again, she said, “A single person could have done all that.”

“But it would have taken the person longer,” the sheikh murmured, “and my time is precious.”

She supposed that was true, but even so it still felt a little too extravagant.

The way her brows furrowed amused the sheikh. Did she not know how ridiculous it was to worry about such things considering the size of his wealth?

“After this, I will unfortunately need to spend a few more hours in the office working.”

“Umm. Okay.” Why was he telling her this?

“I thought you should know beforehand that my work schedule is more…demanding than most.” He paused. “And it is unlikely to change even when we are married.”

Oh. Now she got it. And Harper frowned. “You mean if.”

His eyes only gleamed in response, and she was torn between wanting to melt and scratch his eyes out. He was just so arrogant!

“Perhaps you have some other questions about the marriage I could answer before I go back to work?” Khalil wasn’t surprised when Harper didn’t answer right away. It was this cautiousness of her that he liked about her, after all – and he still did, even though it put his throne in jeopardy.

“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.”

“It’s only a temporary delay, so I’ll survive.” But she couldn’t quite meet his eyes as she spoke. She had always thought her studies meant everything to her, but now it was slowly becoming evident to Harper that they had been only there to fill a void. Given a choice between furthering her studies and being a good queen, she would have unhesitatingly chosen the latter ---

And that made her uneasy.

Forcing her attention back on the sheikh, Harper realized that he was now discussing the possibility of children, and her heart skipped a beat. A child, she thought dizzily. She had never thought of having kids. She had never even thought of other men, beyond crushing on the sheikh. But now that he had mentioned it –

“You are fine with this?”

“It would be nice,” she heard herself say cautiously.

“I am glad to hear that.” And now, Khalil thought, there was only one last thing to say. No doubt the most important to Harper, but also the most difficult, even possibly a deal breaker.

The sheikh took a deep breath. “There is one last thing that will be expected of you, and which unfortunately I have no time to repeal.”

“Repeal?” Harper was confused. “It’s a law that concerns me then?”

“A law that concerns you as my future queen, yes.” The sheikh’s tone was heavy.

Harper didn’t like the way the sheikh was talking. “You’re scaring me.”

“It’s nothing to be scared about,” Khalil said right away. “But it is also highly unorthodox.”

“Just spit it out,” Harper muttered.

“Very well.” And so he did.

Harper flew to her feet in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, it is the law, has been so for hundreds of years. I have already taken the steps to repeal it, but I do not believe it will be abolished before our wedding.”

So he was serious, Harper realized with a gulp. “I don’t think…”

“I promise you, Harper. I will take care of you, and I give you my word that you will have nothing to worry about.”