Tarif: A Desert Sheikh Romance

by Marian Tee

  “You act as if you are pleased with this,” Anisah muttered.

  “I am.”

  Anisah choked.

  A grim smile touched the sheikh’s lips. “I told you, did I not?”

  “Told me what?”

  “What we have is inevitable.”

  Oh.

  OH!

  And Anisah started rubbing the sides of her temple, which had now started to ache. “What exactly are you saying?” And please let it not be---

  “My cooperation comes with a price.”

  Curse the man, but it was exactly what she feared.

  “How low can you get?” she hissed in outrage.

  “As low as you need me to,” Tarif answered idly, “but in my experience, eye-level with a woman’s pussy usually does the trick.”

  That did it!

  Even knowing that the sheikh was only trying to get a rise out of her because he was just annoyingly insane like that, Anisah still ended up losing control. She moved unthinkingly to strike him, but the sheikh reacted so swiftly it was almost as if he had already read her mind before she even knew her own thoughts.

  His fingers curled around her wrist the moment she lifted her hand---

  Curses!

  With the sheikh’s strength easily overpowering hers, Anisah found her fingers forcibly twined with his, and an involuntary, irrepressible tremor racked her body. Curses! The sheikh’s touch was like having her skin torched, and even worse was the sickly realization that her stupidly aching body seemed to enjoy getting burned.

  Dear heavens.

  And to think she had convinced herself that their encounter at the ball had been a sensual anomaly!

  A quick look around them had Anisah seething at the realization that the few civilians remaining in the area were now gazing at them like they were a secret couple caught holding hands. Oh, how blind could they get? Couldn’t they see that she was a reluctant captive of a smug, villainous lecher?

  “Will you please let go, sheikh?” Anisah gritted out under her breath.

  The sheikh smiled down at her, a sight that was as devastatingly beautiful as it was infuriatingly arrogant. “La, anisdi.” No, milady.

  Her teeth gnashed. “This is not proper---”

  Tarif cut her off with a brief shake of his head. “Surely you know by now how little I care about what’s proper?”

  Curse him. Deciding it was pointless to indulge in a verbal sparring that she was certain to lose, Anisah made another attempt to subtly but firmly yank her elbow out of his hold, but this only made the sheikh’s grip tighten. Anger mounting at being thwarted, she whispered waspishly, “If you don't let go of me this instant, sheikh, I swear I’ll scream---”

  “Go ahead,” Tarif drawled. “If you scream, I also swear to kiss you to silence.” A murderous look was his answer, followed by mutinous silence, but because he was the type to demand complete surrender, Tarif asked silkily, “Do I have your agreement then, anisdi? Shall we continue this conversation in private?”

  Another moment of deeply resentful silence, and then, “Nem, alshaykh.” Yes, sheikh.

  Quite the obedient response, Tarif thought, as long as one ignored the fact that Anisah had uttered the words like she had just agreed to spend time with the devil.

  As they started to walk, her hand still imprisoned in his, he said smoothly, “I’m glad you see it my way, Tory.” The provocative words had its intended effect, and Tarif once again became the recipient of a visibly irate look.

  “Shall I inform the palace doctor you’re having memory problems, sheikh?” Anisah questioned frostily. “I seem to distinctly recall reminding Your Highness several times that my name is not Tory---”

  “And as I also informed you,” he answered patiently, “you are Tory to me and me alone.”

  They reached his intended destination before she could answer him, and the sheikh didn’t even give her time to draw another breath as he ushered her inside another 4x4, a white-and-gold Land Cruiser this time.

  She yanked herself free from his touch the moment she fell on the plush leather of his car’s backseat, and as the sheikh followed her inside, Anisah quickly scooted to the opposite end, needing to place as much distance between them.

  The chauffeur shut the passenger door, and feeling the wheels rolling under them gave Anisah the most surreal feeling of being abducted.

  Silence thrummed between them, and when she felt the sheikh’s scorching gaze settle on her, Anisah immediately turned towards the windows, feigning fascination with the setting sun on the horizon even as she sought additional distraction by mentally reciting the family tree of Ramilian royalty.

  Stupid.

  Her body was stupid, stupider than she had ever given it credit for, so, so stupid to be this affected by a man like Tarif Al-Atassi.

  Chapter Six

  “Eat.”

  The single-worded command was so unexpected it had Anisah turning towards the sheikh in confusion. “Excuse me?”

  A side table unfolding at the push of a button was her answer while the sheikh reached to open a compartment that revealed a built-in mini-bar and a microwave oven. A few moments later, and the sheikh had placed on her table a tray bearing a fresh-off-the-oven beef shawarma and a bottle of cold-pressed juice.

  Anisah couldn’t help but gape. “Do you always store this kind of food in all your cars?”

  “No.” The sheikh’s voice was even. “I had these specially prepared for today. I knew there was a good chance you’d come looking for me.”

  “And so you wanted to be sure you could feed me?” she asked, even more confused now.

  “If you wish me to be specific, I wanted to be sure you wouldn’t die of starvation.”

  She stiffened. Was he indirectly implying she had lost her appetite because of him? “I am not---”

  “Spare me the lies, anisdi. Eat---”

  Her temper flared. “You may be one of the king’s vassals,” she hissed, “but you cannot command---”

  Cold anger glinted at the sheikh’s eyes. “If you want me to help you clear your name – eat.”

  Oh, curse it.

  She turned away from him in an angry huff, not caring if she was acting like a petulant child. Teeth gnashing, she reached for the shawarma and made a show of biting into it without pleasure. She started to chew –

  Mm.

  She kept chewing.

  It was…delicious.

  She took another bite.

  Curse the man, but he definitely knew his shawarma.

  Tarif gazed at his unwilling captive in brooding silence as she finished off her shawarma and reached for her bottle of juice. She was still doing her best to hide the fact that she had enjoyed her meal, but her expressive eyes still ended up giving her away.

  Damn stubborn woman.

  Never had a woman riled and enthralled him at the same time, and even now he found himself disturbed by the way she had turned the tables on him so easily. She was supposed to pine for him. That was the plan. Make her ache for him so that she would be forced to come crawling to him.

  But instead she had chosen to deny both of them by avoiding him as well. And just like that, he had found himself chasing after her like a goddamn infatuated fool.

  They would meet each other in the palace’s hallways, and she would bow and greet him without ever meeting his eyes. They would be eating on the same table, and not once would her gaze go to him. He had become invisible to her, just like he had made her feel invisible to him.

  And the fucking worst part about it was that he knew – of course he goddamn knew – that Anisah had not done any of those things with the same ulterior motive as he had. She had avoided him like the plague not because she wanted to tease him or play coy but because she wanted nothing to do with him.

  With it, she had become the master, and he the puppet.

  But the game was done now.

  Anisah tensed involuntarily when she saw the sheikh move forward, but instead of reaching f
or her as she had feared, he had simply taken the empty wrap and bottle from the table and disposed of it behind another hidden compartment.

  Tarif leaned back as he watched Anisah hold herself stiff on the other side of the seat. The sheer proximity of her was temptation; he wondered vaguely what she would do if he were to simply do what he knew they both wanted – throw her on her back and claim her pussy, once and for all.

  He was certain that fucking her would be pleasure unlike any he had experienced…but he was also equally certain forcing the issue that way would make that pleasure short-lived.

  If he wanted Anisah beyond a single fuck – and he damn well did – coming to him had to be her choice and hers alone.

  The sheikh’s hooded gaze settled on her, and Anisah’s violet eyes, albeit shadowed by uncertainty, met his head on. He could see that she was ready to fight tooth and nail against him. It was brave of her, but soon she would know hers was a hopeless cause.

  The game is over, my sweet.

  “You took your time coming to me, anisdi.”

  “We both know I’m not here of my own free will.”

  “That is so.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile of acknowledgment. “I admit to underestimating your tenacity.”

  “Funnily enough, I saw it more as a bid for survival.”

  “You make it sound as if I have attacked or harassed you.”

  “Maybe that’s what I should do to put an end to this. Sue you for sexual harassment---”

  “You may,” Tarif conceded pleasantly, “but you won’t.”

  Her hackles rose. “If that’s a threat---”

  “Of course not, anisdi. Why bother when I know you won’t push through with any kind of lawsuit?”

  And now the infernal man was implying she was both a coward and a liar, Anisah fumed. “Don’t speak of me as if you know me---”

  “And yet I do,” Tarif drawled, “and more than you give me credit for.” His tone turned mockingly gentle. “Have you forgotten what I told you before, my sweet? I have been observing you for over two months.”

  “An exaggeration---”

  “I beg to differ, anisdi, but that is more your way than mine.”

  “What reason could you possibly have for observing me?” she demanded.

  “A very good reason, actually, and it all boils down to the first time I saw you – really saw you as more than one of the countless faces that I see every day at the palace.”

  And that happened two months ago, she wondered dubiously. How could that be when she couldn’t even recall doing anything particularly interesting two months ago?

  “You doubt my words,” Tarif noted.

  “Because it doesn’t make sense,” she answered simply. “So you’re either lying or you have me mistaken for someone---”

  The sheikh’s laugh cut her off. “Believe me, my beautiful puritan, after what I’ve seen you do, there’s no fucking way I can mistake you for someone else.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked sharply.

  “Two months ago, we were able to acquire missing footage of the attack on the queen---”

  Anisah jerked.

  “And one of those defending her was a woman whose face was covered by a silver niqab.”

  Anisah didn’t answer. Two years had already passed since the attack, and although she no longer found herself waking up in the middle of the night, shaking, sweating, and nearly throwing up at the remembered scent of blood and violence, it was still something she’d rather not let her mind dwell on.

  “The niqab you wore was a good disguise, but unfortunately---”

  The sheikh made his move, too fast for her to stop him, and by the time she realized what he was reaching for, it was too late. She instinctively tried to kick him, but he was already running his hand down the length of her leg.

  “What are you---” She broke off when the sheikh suddenly let her go, and as she fell back against the seat, she saw him pull away with her family dagger in his hand. She could feel herself paling even more, and she cried out, “Give that back!”

  “I will, anisdi – but first I wish to show you something.”

  Anisah sucked her breath in when she saw the sheikh flip the blade and run his thumb over the hilt’s engraved surface. That was her family’s coat of arms – something she had never thought to cover up because not once had she ever thought there’d be a reason to.

  Obviously, she was wrong.

  Returning the dagger to her, the sheikh murmured, “You are not pleased I know this part of you, nem?”

  Instead of answering him, she turned away from him as she responded to his question with one of hers. “What else did you see, Your Highness?”

  The gruffness of her voice and the way she deliberately avoided his gaze reminded Tarif of how children tended to awkwardly handle their most embarrassing moments, and he almost smiled. How wonderfully, terrifyingly innocent she was. It almost changed his mind about making her his woman. Almost.

  “It was more of what else I found out, actually.”

  Anisah frowned at the oddly mocking note in the sheikh’s voice.

  “When we were done reviewing the footage, all of my brothers started sharing glowing praises of your character.”

  That was when it hit her, and her head swung up sharply, her gaze wide-eyed.

  “They spoke of you like they had known you for years---”

  Because they had, Anisah realized with dismay, and her stomach started to cramp.

  “They spoke of you like you were a close friend of the family---”

  Because she was, Anisah thought with an inner cringe, and her stomach twisted into smaller, tighter knots of fear.

  “And you were, weren’t you, my sweet?” The softly spoken words seemed to mockingly echo her thoughts. “You were everyone’s friend except mine.”

  Anisah felt like shrinking as pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. She started to remember all the disparaging things she had said about him over the years, and knowing what she did now –

  Trepidation skittered down her spine. Was that how all this started?” Was that why he had chosen to suddenly pay attention to her and why – in his own words – he had ended up “observing” her for two months?

  “Naturally, it had me thinking. How was it that the whole royal family knew of this woman save for me?”

  Glittering eyes bored through her, and it took everything of Anisah not to look away.

  “I asked my brothers, too, of course---”

  Oh, curse her life, she was so doomed.

  “And that’s when I had the pleasure of listening to all of them explain – in detail, mind you – exactly how you thought of me.”

  And she was right.

  “Now, let me see if I can recall the things they shared with me---”

  The words had her panicking, and she said in a rush, “That would be a waste of time, Your Highness. It is better for us to concentrate on the present---”

  But the sheikh didn’t even seem to hear her, drawling, “I believe the king mentioned you dislike me.”

  Anisah winced. King Khalil, really? She had expected more from their sovereign, curse it. Clearing her throat, she found herself in an unusual and far unenviable position of having to lie through her teeth as she muttered, “The Emir Sheikh may have misunderstood---”

  “Just like Rayyan misunderstood you perhaps? He believes you used the word ‘immature’ once when describing me.”

  Curse those sheikhs with their infernally big mouths!

  “And there was that thing Malik told me,” the sheikh said in a dangerously silky voice that made Anisah tense anew. “A disgrace to the palace. That was how you described me to him. Was that a misunderstanding as well?”

  “Umm...possibly?” Honor was as honor went, but this was her hide at stake, and she didn’t see any point in adding fuel to the fire by agreeing that he was, indeed, right.

  “Altair, too, had shared something with me,” Tarif drawled.
“A man,” he then quoted lazily, “who spends too much time hopping from one bedroom to another has no business in the courtroom.”

  By the time the sheikh finished speaking, Anisah had both hands on the door handle as she seriously contemplated jumping out of the car. It was a risk, but her chances of surviving a bad fall might be better than her chances of surviving Tarif Al-Atassi’s entirely justifiable quest for vengeance.

  “Now, my sweet…”

  If only she were a coward, she thought wistfully, then she could so easily pretend she didn’t hear a thing and feign sleep until they reached their destination and she could make her escape.

  But since she was not---

  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.