by Marian Tee
“Did Al Afea send you?”
The man slowly sheathed his gun at her words, and she nearly expired in relief. Oh, thank God. She had done the right thing then. Al Afea was another name that Sheikh Rayyan Al-Atassi answered to, and Hyacinth had been hoping that the air of mystery that constantly shrouded the royal sheikh would make her lie more believable.
Forcing herself to meet the man’s gaze, she demanded, “Did you not hear what I said? Because the sheikh will not be pleased at all if he sees his woman—-” Her voice died when she saw the man reach for his helmet.
Oh. Shit.
She had watched too many true crime shows not to know how much danger she was in, and Hyacinth slowly took a step back. If he was willing to show her his face, then it only meant one thing. He wasn’t worried she would be able to identify him – because he had no plans of keeping her alive.
The helmet clattered to the ground, and the moment he reached for the edge of his balaclava, Hyacinth spun around to take advantage of his momentary blindness and make a run for it.
But she had barely been able to take several steps when long, hard fingers curled around her wrist and hauled her back.
She screamed. She kicked and thrashed against him. She gave him as good as she got, hell bent on fighting to her dying breath –
“Stop struggling!”
“Stop, dammit!”
“Will you just look at me—-”
The man’s words eventually penetrated the haze of terror that had clouded her mind, and even though she dared not stop pummeling his chest and doing all she could to knee him in the groin, she did let her gaze move up to her assailant’s face –
“HOLY FUCK!”
Startled at the expletive, Rayyan unconsciously loosened his grip on her just as Hyacinth made another attempt to free herself. She succeeded this time and backed away as soon as she could. Too soon as it turned out because the next thing she knew, she was falling and falling and falling –
Thud.
Hyacinth couldn’t tell which hurt worse: her ego or her ass. All she knew was how her embarrassment was growing with every second, more so when she saw the sheikh slowly crouch down in front of her.
“Well, anisdi...” Rayyan paused. “This certainly isn’t the kind of reaction I was hoping to get from my woman.”
A strangled sound escaped Hyacinth.
Oh. My. God.
Shit, shit, shit.
She had forgotten about that.
“And for the record—-” She saw his gaze dip down. “White underwear isn’t a favorite of mine.”
Too late, she realized she was still sprawled on the ground, her legs wide open, and her abaya falling all the way back to her waist.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Click here to start reading Rayyan today.
My Controlling Sheikh
(A spin-off sheikh romance, previously published as Stepbrother Prince)
What if Cinderella’s prince was a tall, dark, and handsome sheikh...and he was anything but charming?
I used to be an ordinary small-town girl, a curvy eighteen-year-old who worked countless hours after school just to make things meet. I didn't even have time to date, much less a chance to have my first kiss.
But then my mother married the king and my life changed forever.
Sheikh Khal, the king's heir, now has total control of my life.
Everyone thinks he's a dream come true.
Gorgeous. Courageous. Kind.
With me, however, he's nothing but a domineering jerk.
I hated him, and I thought he hated me back...until the sheikh showed me hate was just another form of love.
Click here to start reading My Controlling Sheikh today.
