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Anisah forced herself to meet the sheikh’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”
“Are you saying you did not mean any of those things?”
“What? No.” Anisah was perplexed. “At that time I had meant every word.”
Tarif coughed to keep himself from grinning. Did she not realize that by affirming all those things she had said, he could now have her arrested? Clearing his throat, he asked, “What are you apologizing for then?”
“Instead of expressing my opinion behind your back—-” Anisah’s voice was one of grim sincerity. “I should have told them to your face, Your Highness.”
“I...see.”
And he really did see.
Throughout his life, he had come to know only two types of women.
The first type was the type he fucked, and those women had never interested him outside the bedroom.
The second type was the type who made him laugh and whose company he enjoyed outside the bedroom – but never in it. Most of those women were part of his family, like Kyria and Harper.
And then there was Anisah.
The third type – the only one of her kind, making Anisah a class all on her own. She was the only woman who could make him laugh and turn him on, the only one who could fascinate and annoy him at the same time.
Only Anisah Kahveci could do that, and it was this fact that doomed her. It was her ruin, her point of no return, and whether she wanted it or not, it effectively sealed her fate with him.
Anisah watched the sheikh press another one of the buttons on the door handle. A moment later, a customized window rolled up to provide a privacy barrier for the 4x4’s passenger section.
It took exactly three seconds before the horrifying implication behind the sheikh’s action dawned on her, and her gaze flew to him in shock. He would not – surely, he could not –
But he did.
A swift, strong yank had her tumbling against him, and then he was lifting her up—-
“Let me go!”
Another moment, and she found herself straddling the sheikh’s lap, her arms imprisoned behind her back.
NO!
Knowing it would be futile to struggle against someone who could so easily overpower her, Anisah forced herself to stay calm even as her heart beat madly against her chest, and her body was already becoming all too sensitive to the thick, hard erection now pulsing against her belly.
Lifting her chin, she met his gaze head on, asking defiantly, “What do you think you’re doing, Your Highness?”
“Claiming what’s mine.”
“I’m not—-”
Tarif shook his head. “No more games, anisdi.”
“How ironic,” she snarled, “considering you were the one who started playing them first.”
Color stained the sheikh’s strongly defined cheeks. “I wanted you to come to me first,” he admitted tautly. “I know now it was foolish to do so, but I was determined to prove I could make you want me despite how much you hated me—-”
Even though a part of Anisah had suspected as much ever since finding out what he knew of her, hearing the sheikh confirm it still stung. “You’re saying all I am is a challenge to you.”
Tarif’s lips tightened. “Tory—-”
“It’s fine, Your Highness.” Anisah was proud of how steady her voice was even as she grew increasingly empty inside. “I’m not going to hold it against you, and if you need it to be official – congratulations, Your Highness. You succeeded in making me want you. You have conquered your latest challenge.”
