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“Yet.”

Violet eyes flashed at him in mute exasperation. “Your Highness!”

Tarif knew she was waiting for him to apologize – as was the proper thing to do – but the angry look on her face only made him lust for her even more. Ah, my sweet. He could only imagine how glorious it would feel to have wonderful angry sex with this woman.

The air in the room suddenly throbbed with tension as Anisah unintentionally caught the flash of desire in his eyes.

Oh, may the stars save her.

The things that look promised -—

Such unspeakably crude things...

Such dirty, dirty things...

Things that shouldn’t make her body ache just by the thought of them, but curse the man, it did.

Chapter Three

The sheikh took a prowling step forward, but this time Anisah forced herself to stay still. Something told her that things would only get painfully worse if he realized how nervous he was making her.

“How about a compromise, anisdi...”

Anisah’s toes curled anew at the velvety rasp of the sheikh’s voice

“I promise not to call you Tory for the rest of the night...”

Aaah. Even his voice was a temptation in itself, like sin coated in dark chocolate, and if she were the suspicious sort, Anisah would have genuinely believed he was an incubus reborn in human form.

“If you grant me one dance...”

She desperately fought against the dangerously intoxicating lure hidden deep in his words. One dance, he said. And yet the way he was looking at her told Anisah that it was impossible to end with just one dance.

“Say yes, anisdi.”

And now his voice had turned into a purr, and no matter how hard she tried to resist, her senses still swam at the sound.

“What harm could one dance do?”

“Everything, sheikh.” It took everything Anisah had to cling to the last remnants of her common sense.

The sheikh’s tone turned mocking. “You speak as if a dance with me is fraught with peril.”

“That’s because it is, Your Highness.”

“Would you at least care to elaborate?”

Oh, heaven help her, but he was looking at her that way again!

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “You never used to pay attention to me—-”

The sheikh smirked. “Is that a complaint?” A moment later, and his hooded gaze dipped low, and oh curse him, but he was doing it again, and it was all she could do not to wrap her arms around her body and admit the shameful truth that he was making her feel so shamefully wet.

“Just one dance,” the incubus masquerading as the sheikh whispered, “and I promise nothing bad will happen.”

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