Tarif: A Desert Sheikh Romance Read online

Tarif raised a brow. “That’s normal?”

  “That’s me being lenient,” she said honestly.

  “Then I stand corrected.” The sheikh’s lips twitched. “Perhaps follow my lead for now instead?”

  “If that’s what you think is best,” she muttered.

  “Absolutely.”

  And so taking her cue from the sheikh, Anisah did her best to keep her pose relaxed while smiling for the students’ constantly clicking cameras. It made her feel like she was pretending to be someone she was not. She didn’t like it at all, but Anisah gritted her teeth and forced herself to bear with the pretense. And for a while, she managed quite admirably…or at least she did so until the questions started pouring in.

  Does this mean you are the sheikh Professor Kahveci spoke of in her message?

  Will there be another royal wedding soon?

  Is the palace in favor of your relationship?

  Catching sight of Anisah’s look of frozen horror, Tarif nodded towards one of the waiting university officials, and the older man in return motioned to his team of security officers to follow him.

  “Settle down now, everyone. Please clear the way for Sheikh Tarif and Professor Kahveci as they will now be leaving.”

  The girls started to protest but quieted as soon as they realized it was the dean speaking, and they reluctantly moved away when the university’s security officers formed a human barrier around the couple. Noticing Anisah’s pallor as he drew her away from the crowd, he said with a lazy grin, “They were just young girls, anisdi. Surely they couldn’t have scared my beautiful brave harpy?”

  “Quit calling me a harpy,” she grumbled, “and I’m sorry to disappoint you, sheikh, but I’d rather face a death squad than go through that again---” She stopped speaking when she noticed the sheikh grinning at her.

  “That’s better,” he told her approvingly.

  “Better?” she echoed in confusion.

  “Anger’s brought back color to your cheeks.”

  Oh. Her toes curled, and her voice was awkward and stilted as she said, “I’m sorry.” There he went again, giving her another taste of the forbidden, and it was getting worryingly addictive. “I appreciate your help, sheikh. I really do---”

  The sheikh raised a brow. “There’s a but, isn’t there?”

  “But you mustn’t forget your promise---” She paused then added in a rush, “You need to be a little less nice because I’m feeling more than a little troubled, and the thought of falling in love with you is enough to make me throw up and---”

  In full view of their audience, the sheikh placed a finger on her lips, and the crowd ‘oohed’ while she could only stare up at him in stunned disbelief.

  “Voila,” Tarif said with a wicked grin. “I’ve shut you up by doing something decidedly sexist.”

  OH!

  “Happy now, my sweet?”

  Yes. No. Oh, she had no idea what to think. What he had done was admittedly sexist in a way, but if that were so, why was it that her toes had curled anew and her heart was racing like mad?

  It was just so confusing, and she could only breathe a sigh of relief when the sheikh finally released her lips. But then she felt him place a proprietary hand on the small of her back, and her alarmingly sensitive body shot straight up like an arrow. Their sides brushed against each other as they started walking, and she almost shuddered.

  Oh dear heavens, what was wrong with her?

  The sheikh bent his head towards her, murmuring, “If it’s any consolation, you did very well for your first public outing.”

  Anisah glanced up at the sheikh in bemusement as he steered them towards the university’s front doors. “First public outing?” she echoed blankly. “What do you mean by that?”

  “All I’m saying, anisdi,” Tarif murmured smoothly, “is that things will die down eventually.”

  “I don’t think this one will.” Anisah’s tone was fatalistic. “They’ll always remember me as the most promiscuous professor – why are you laughing?”

  “Because of how unbelievably innocent you are,” the sheikh answered with an amused shake of his head. “What they’ll remember you for is the fact that you’re the only woman who hasn’t let me get past second base.”

  Anisah only stared at him. “You have to be kidding, sheikh.” But the sheikh simply stared back at her, and her jaw dropped. “Are you seriously telling me you always have sex on your first date?” she sputtered.

  “Of course not. I do have standards, anisdi.”

  She tossed the sheikh a suspicious look, asking, “And that means?”

  “It means,” he drawled, “I’m saying you’re right about the fucking part, but I’m a lot more selective on who I take out on a date.”

  He…what?

  Before Anisah could even wrap her head around the sheikh’s revelation, the guards, acting on the sheikh’s command, had already thrown the doors open and a throng of paparazzi immediately started shouting questions while their fingers pressed nonstop on the shutter buttons of their cameras.

  Click! Click! Click!

  The sound was strangely deafening, and Anisah couldn’t help but raise a hand to shield her face as a sense of claustrophobia swept over her. She knew she was being silly, but knowing what they were thinking while looking at her, talking to her – it made her feel foolishly vulnerable, and Anisah couldn’t even make herself protest when the sheikh drew her close to him in a gesture as possessive as it was sheltering.

  The sheikh’s personal guards appeared soon after, clearing a path through the crowd of reporters, and the sheikh pulled her closer to him as he led the way to his waiting limousine.

  Anisah only allowed herself to resume breathing the moment the chauffeur shut the passenger door. The limousine started to move, and her body gradually relaxed as the noise of the news-hungry paparazzi faded.

  Turning to the sheikh, she said, “Khalis alshukr, alshaykh.” My sincere thanks, sheikh. It was the most formal and deepest expression of gratitude in their language, and her voice, albeit awkward and halting, was filled with grudging sincerity. This might just be a temporary reprieve from having to face the music, but she also knew it was extra time she wouldn’t have been able to buy for herself without the sheikh’s help.

  “It is my honor to be of service, my sweet.”

  “I hope you know…” She bit her lip hard. “I didn’t…”

  “To let them know about us?”

  She winced. “I swear by my honor, Your Highness, I would never have---” The sheikh lifted his hand in a halting gesture, and she stopped speaking.

  “You’ll be pleased to know the idea didn’t even occur to me.”

  “It did not?

  “I’d be an idiot to do so,” Tarif said dryly, “considering how much you’ve tried to resist me in the past months.” It was unfortunately true, and the sheikh was half-amused, half-exasperated by the smile of relief Anisah sent his way.

  This woman was truly bad for his ego, the sheikh mused. And yet for some reason, he wanted her even more because of that. He wanted her more than any other woman actually, which was why he was determined not to let this scandal take her away from him.

  “Sheikh?”

  “Nem?”

  “The palace will question me about this, won’t they?”

  “It is standard procedure to do so, yes.” He studied her countenance. “Are you worried?”

  Her shoulders lifted in an awkward shrug. “I just don’t know if I can make myself talk about…us.”

  “If you refuse to talk about us, then what do you plan on saying?”

  “I’m thinking I shouldn’t say anything at all. I mean, I have other options---”

  “And one of it would be?”

  “Kill myself,” she answered promptly.

  “Aside from the fact that’s a terribly melodramatic alternative, anisdi, is that also your way of saying you’d rather take your own life than live in a world where everyone knows I got as far as second base with
you?” When she pretended to think about it, the sheikh drawled, “At least spare a bit of my pride and lie if you must, anisdi.”

  “Umm…”

  “On second thought, let’s not discuss that.”

  Anisah coughed to cover her smile. She knew she should be taking this more seriously, but right now she simply wanted to pretend there was nothing to worry about. She wanted to pretend that this was just one of those times they were fighting and dancing at the same time –

  And when Anisah looked up at the sheikh, she saw in the dark, indulgent light in his eyes that he knew exactly what she wanted – and what she wanted, he would give.

  If you want to pretend, then that’s what we’ll do, his gaze promised her, and her toes curled involuntarily.

  The sheikh reached for her hand after, and she inhaled sharply at the way his fingers tightened around hers. The real world can wait, the strength in his grip assured her. And if it didn’t want to, I will make it do so.

  Oh, curse this man for being so good at making her feel safe and protected.

  The sheikh tipped her chin up at her continued silence. “Anything wrong?”

  “Umm…” For one second, she seriously considered telling the sheikh that his unexpected chivalry was making her feel ridiculously weak-kneed about him.

  “Tory?”

  The moment passed, and she mentally shook her head. The sheikh was arrogant as he was already. If she told him how he was making her feel now, he’d be completely unbearable.

  Seeing that the sheikh was still waiting for her answer, she cleared her throat, saying, “I was just thinking about my Plan B, Your Highness.”

  “I’m all ears, anisdi.”

  “I was thinking I could…” She pretended to sound thoughtful. “I don’t know…maybe quit my job, enter the convent, and lead a life of atonement?”

  “Good idea…except for the fact there are no convents in the kingdom.”

  “Then whatever its equivalent is in Islam perhaps? I’m hoping doing so would save Hyacinth from the backlash of having a sister who’s the personification of lewdness---”

  Tarif snorted. “Believe me, my sweet. If you’re lewd, then 90% of the world consists of whores and sex maniacs.”

  Her lips pursed. “I guess that leaves me with just one last option.”

  “Which would be what?”

  “Earn back my honor by enlisting in the army.” She expected the sheikh to roll his eyes at the suggestion, but instead she saw a smirk play on his lips.

  “What an excellent idea.”

  It was?

  “After all, who better to enlist than someone who knows all about bases?”

  Oh! Anisah was torn between helpless laughter and disgruntlement. She had not seen that coming at all!

  The sheikh laughed at the look Anisah threw at him. ‘Drop dead’ was the best way to sum it up, and he said with a rakish grin, “Maehdina, anisdi.” I’m sorry, milady. “I simply could not resist it.”

  Anisah only answered him with another look – ‘drop dead, NOW, please’ – and this time, the urge to laugh coincided with an intensely powerful wave of desire jolting through the sheikh’s large, muscular body. How was it that the more this woman defied and resisted him, the more he craved her?

  Glancing back at her, he saw Anisah looking out at the window, her face paling as the limousine drove past the palace’s first set of gates. Knowing that it meant playtime was over, he said quietly, “I have my own suggestion to put forward, anisdi. Would you at least hear me out on it?”

  “I’m only going to hear you out,” she warned warily, “but I’m not making any promises.”

  “Fair enough,” the sheikh murmured. “And I am only making a suggestion because we both know handling this kind of controversy is not your forte.” He paused. “But it is mine.” Loosening his grip on her hand, he began stroking her knuckles with his thumb as he murmured, “So can you not trust me as you did earlier, my sweet – and let me help you resolve this. Trust in me, Tory, and I will make sure that you emerge from this unscathed.”

  By the time the sheikh finished speaking, the limousine had slid to a stop in front of the palace’s majestic stoop, and a moment later, the chauffeur was already opening the door. She drew her breath when the sheikh immediately stepped out of the car; for one moment, she imagined him abandoning her just like that, and her eyes squeezed shut as a painful twinge squeezed her heart.

  Why did she feel so scared at the thought of Tarif Al-Atassi disappearing from her life?

  The moment passed, and when her vision cleared, she saw that the sheikh was still there, waiting for her, his hand reaching for her---

  Trust in me, Tory.

  Triumph, sinfully sweet and powerfully heady, heated the sheikh’s blood the instance he felt Anisah place her hand in his. Finally.

  Anisah tried not to stiffen when the sheikh kept her hand in his grip as they ascended the steps leading up to the palace. So much for secret affairs, Anisah thought numbly as she fought against the urge to put distance between them.

  Must. Trust. Him. She repeated this in her mind over and over as she and the sheikh entered the palace, and more employees of the royal family bowed to the sheikh in greeting while gaping at her.

  Must. Trust. Him.

  Anisah started to relax when she realized the sheikh had brought her to the palace’s Public Relations office. Finally. She tried to pull her hand out of his hold once they were inside, but the sheikh refused to let go.

  Pretending he didn’t feel Anisah’s scowling gaze on him, Tarif shook his head briefly when the people inside the room rushed to stand up and bow. “Be at ease, please. I only came here to let you know what direction I wish this office to take regarding Professor Kahveci’s involvement with me.”

  Heads bobbed in rapid motion, alongside a quick, fervent chorus of Yes, Your Highness.

  “Listen closely then.”

  Heads bobbed once more in response, and Tarif almost smiled when he realized that the look of concentration on the employees’ faces was almost completely identical to the one Anisah was wearing as well. They were looking at him like he had just promised them a miraculous mathematical formula to solve world hunger---

  And in a way, he supposed he was…since this matter was that important to him.

  “From here on, if anyone requests for information about Professor Kahveci, please let them know that my fiancée---”

  Gasps and cries of shock filled the office, with the loudest of them coming from the woman beside him.

  “---will be glad to answer them during her first press conference, with the time, date, and place to be announced within the week.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  All of his cousins were already in Tarif’s private office by the time he strolled in, and the four men shared a look of disgust at the way satisfaction practically oozed from the other sheikh. To say that Tarif Al-Atassi was in a good mood would be an understatement, and when one considered the reason behind it ---

  The king, seated on one of the armchairs, attempted to draw first blood as he commented with mocking disappointment, “Second base in two months, Tarif? That’s not like you at all.”

  The other men snickered, but Tarif’s broad shoulders only moved in a nonchalant shrug as he claimed his seat behind his desk. “The result is all that matters, my brothers. And as she is irrefutably mine now…” Tarif’s tone was one of lazy complacence, the sound of which had his cousins almost gagging.

  Malik decided to take the second shot at his older cousin, pointing out, “You may be happy about staking a claim, but does Anisah feel the same? Last time I spoke to her, you were still the sheikh she hated the most.”

  “That is true,” Tarif acknowledged with indestructible good humor. “But I also seem to recall your wife once feeling that way about you as well. Did she not?” The sheikh turned to the king. “And the same goes for you, too, Your Majesty.”

  Malik and Khalil grimaced, both unable to retort since
Tarif had spoken the complete truth. Kyria and Malik had a major falling out that had caused them to avoid each other for two years while Harper hadn’t exactly been the king’s greatest fan before their whirlwind romance.

  Rayyan shook his head, feeling inexplicably irritated at the air of contentment surrounding Tarif. “Don’t you think you were being a little too hasty in announcing a fake engagement?”

  “It would seem so…if my pretend fiancée didn’t happen to be Anisah Kahveci. But as she is, regardless of the outcome, I don’t see her as the type who’d cause the kingdom any problems.” Tarif paused. “And even if she did, I honestly don’t give a fuck. I want my woman safe and happy, and if it comes at the expense of a little scandal that’s no more than a storm in a teacup…” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Then again, that’s how I prefer to handle things. You’re probably different, considering how you treat your women.”

  Color flushed Rayyan’s cheeks at the suggestive way the other sheikh’s tone trailed off, and he said coldly, “If that is a dig about the way I treat Hyacinth---” Khalil, Malik, and Altair turned to him in surprise, and too late Rayyan realized he had neatly fallen for Tarif’s trap and exposed his secret in the process. “Fuck you, Tarif.”

  “What are you angry for?” The other sheikh dealt Rayyan a picture-perfect look of injured innocence. “I didn’t mention any names. You did.”

  The normally calm Rayyan flipped him the bird in answer, and Tarif grinned. “I love you too, brother.”

  And because he knew everyone had planned to gang up on him about Anisah, he raised a brow at the kingdom’s military commander, who was seated on one of the bar stools by the counter. “I’m guessing it’s your turn now, sheikh?”

  The doors to Tarif’s office were thrown open before Altair could answer, and a moment later, a frantic-looking Anisah came rushing in. “Your Highness, I really don’t think---” She stopped dead in her tracks and turned red when she saw five handsome men swing around to face her.

  Oh, curse it, what were all the Al-Atassi sheikhs doing here?

  Recalling her manners, Anisah quickly bowed, murmuring, “Your Majesty, Your Highness.” When Anisah straightened, she saw that the sheikhs – with the exception of a smirking Tarif – did not look happy at all to see her.