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“I thought so.” Her tone was soft but pointed; it was a clear warning that if the students were to express another unnecessary complaint, then she would not be as lenient the second time.
Anisah made a careless wave towards the door. “Dismissed.” As the students quickly filed out of the room, she opened her bag, and the first thing she saw was her phone showing notifications for several unread messages.
Hyacinth to Anisah: Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. This is pure torture and abuse!
Anisah to Hyacinth: I just think it’s high time you grow up and learn how to fix your own breakfast.
Anisah to Hyacinth: Also – don’t think I’ve forgotten what he said. YOU TEXTED HIM?
Hyacinth to Anisah: So not preparing your baby sister breakfast isn’t abuse, but now you’re acting like texting a sheikh is a crime? #questionableprinciples
Anisah to Hyacinth: Don’t change the subject. How do you even know his number?
Tarif to Anisah: Have lunch with me after your class.
Hyacinth to Anisah: I got it from R.
Anisah to Hyacinth: Only if you promise to behave and not lay me on the table like I’m something to feast on.
Hyacinth to Anisah: OMG HE FEASTED ON YOU?
The National Association of Ramilian Teachers has added you to their chat group.
A cry of horror escaped Anisah when she realized she had mistakenly texted Hyacinth her reply for the sheikh. Oh dear heavens, she would never hear the end of it now! Clicking on the first tab on the top of the message list, she hurriedly typed her reply to Hyacinth.
Hush! It was a figure of speech. The sheikh and I didn’t even make it past second base, okay?
Anisah clicked Send.
There, that would do it.
A moment later, her phone exploded with a bombardment of messages, and Anisah almost dropped her phone in her shock. Why were so many teachers simultaneously texting her all of a—-
OH!
She frantically started dragging her screen’s scroll bar down, heart beating hard as she searched for the very last message thread she had typed her answer for Hyacinth. And when she finally found what she was looking for –
Anisah’s phone fell to the floor in a loud thud as the magnitude of her error struck her.
Allah save me!
She had texted The National Association of Ramilian Teachers about the sheikh reaching second base with her.
Anisah heard the door to her classroom open and froze at the sound of soft, steady fall of footsteps coming towards her. Even without seeing a thing, she suddenly knew it was the sheikh –
She slowly lowered her shaking hands, and her eyes opened.
The sheikh stood in front of her, looking devastatingly beautiful and sophisticated in a custom-designed suit from a prominent Savile Row tailor. “Marhava, Tory.” His voice was soft, his tone cultured.
Anisah found herself holding her breath. Did he know what she had just let slip -
And then she saw it...a lopsided smile slowly forming on his lips, and oh, may the stars save her, but it just made him a thousand times sexier, and she found herself torn between cringing (because of what it meant) and swooning (because of what it made her feel).
“Tell me, my sweet. Was that bit about you not making it past second base a complaint?”
Chapter Twelve
Heads swung and jaws fell open as soon as the sheikh and Anisah walked past teachers and students alike as they headed down the hallway. It was a reaction that Tarif was well used to. His companion, however, was not, and he murmured in a low, husky voice, “Chin up, my sweet. Just a few minutes more, and we’re out of this place.”
