Note: This is the second edition of Tarif: A Sheikh Romance. Contains extended epilogue.
A womanizing royalhole and a bookish prude: opposites attract...or natural-born enemies?
Uh-oh. Sheikh Tarif Al-Atassi used to walk past me all the time without really seeing me. But something's changed.
The sinfully gorgeous sheikh now sees me as a challenge...
And in no time at all, I find myself enslaved by his touch, and begging wildly for his possession. But just when I start to believe in love, that's when I'm arrested for treason...on the orders of Sheikh Tarif himself. And it hurts. It hurts so, so much to see the way he's looking at me now.
Was all that we had nothing but a lie?
Uh-oh. Sheikh Tarif Al-Atassi used to walk past me all the time without really seeing me. But something's changed.
The sinfully gorgeous sheikh now sees me as a challenge...
And in no time at all, I find myself enslaved by his touch, and begging wildly for his possession. But just when I start to believe in love, that's when I'm arrested for treason...on the orders of Sheikh Tarif himself. And it hurts. It hurts so, so much to see the way he's looking at me now.
Was all that we had nothing but a lie?
It was almost three in the afternoon by the time Anisah Kahveci came out of the library, her departure made necessary by the not-so-subtle grumbling of her stomach. After nodding courteously towards the guards stationed outside the doors, she headed towards the stairs at a brisk pace, fully intending to have her midday meal and make it back in under half an hour. With her presentation only a week away, she still had to---
Oh.
Anisah ducked her head as soon as she caught sight of Sheikh Tarif Al-Atassi coming up the stairs, dressed in an elegant grey tweed suit. Among his cousins, he was the only one who seemed to have a stated preference for Western clothing over their kingdom’s traditional robes; it was a trait Anisah secretly found baffling, considering he was also the only full-blooded Ramilian one among the five sheikhs that made up the kingdom’s highest branch of government.
With the sheikh now only a few steps away, Anisah came to a stop and once he was near enough to hear her, she murmured respectfully, “Yam jamil, Your Highness.” The term meant ‘a beautiful day’ in their language, a formal greeting commonly used when greeting one’s superiors.
Afterwards, she waited for the sheikh to walk past her like he usually did.
But this time he did not.
Instead, the sheikh stopped right in front of her, asking lazily, “Anisah, is it not?”
Her head jerked up in confusion, and violet eyes unintentionally clashed with hooded black eyes.
Although all Al-Atassi sheikhs were gorgeous beyond belief, most people agreed that Tarif was the most seductive one among his cousins, with the way his six-foot-plus frame of pure, sinewy muscles pulsated with a blatantly sexual aura – it was as if every inch of him was designed to arouse, and the simplest contact from the sheikh could make a woman come.
The silky texture of his ebony hair that begged to have a woman’s fingers rake through it, the dark eyes that could make a woman come with one scorching-hot look, the hard, perfect lines of a face so achingly beautiful it could make one ache just by looking at him---
“Anisdi?” My lady?
Anisah’s face flushed with color when she realized she had been practically staring at the sheikh like an infatuated little fool. Curses! This was one of the reasons she had worked hard to perfect the art of being invisible when this particular sheikh was around. And for so many years now, her trick of acting submissive and boring to avoid drawing his attention had always worked.
Always.
Until now, that was.
Clearing her throat, she managed to answer in a steady voice, “Nem, alshaykh.” Yes, sheikh. “That is my name.” And hopefully that would be the end of it, and the sheikh would soon go his merry way to wherever his next rendezvous was.
Unfortunately, the sheikh seemed in a mood to prove her wrong every instance.
“It’s a pleasure to finally have a chance to speak with you.”
The words had Anisah at wit’s end, and she couldn’t help lowering her gaze as she muttered, “The honor and privilege is mine, Your Highness.” There was nothing she despised more than dishonesty, and yet here she was, forced to speak falsehoods. But then again, what choice did she have?
Despite being much younger compared to other scholars, Anisah was already considered as one of the kingdom’s leading authorities on Ramilian history and etiquette. Was she supposed to forget everything she stood for just so she could tell Tarif Al-Atassi to his face she---
“I wonder if you truly mean that, anisdi.”
The sheikh’s tone remained lazy, but even so Anisah couldn’t keep her gaze from narrowing suspiciously at the sheikh. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that the sheikh was actually mocking her.
But that wouldn’t make sense, Anisah thought with a frown. Her ability to conceal her dislike towards the sheikh was something she took great pride in, and she couldn’t think of a single incident that she had let her true feelings slip.
Deciding she was being merely fanciful, she said finally, “I sincerely apologize if I have behaved in a manner that suggests otherwise---”
“Not at all,” the sheikh interrupted her. “I have been observing you for the past two months---”
Her eyebrows shot up. For what possible reason could the sheikh have been observing her for two long months?
“And your self-control has been nothing but remarkable.”
It was?
“But I digress.” The sheikh’s lips curved in a smile then, and Anisah stiffened. No. It could not be. It could not. And so she rubbed her eyes hard, but when she peered fearfully up at the sheikh one more time, the cursed smile was still there---
Allah save her!
She had seen that smile a thousand times, and she had always thanked Allah that such a smile had never been directed at her because it was an omen from hell. In the fifteen years she had lived in the palace, she had seen that smile directed at the women the sheikh had intended to bed – and he had always succeeded in doing so – as well as breaking their hearts in the process.
Did that mean she was next?
Her heart came to a screeching halt at the thought, but when she saw the sheikh’s lips start to move, her heart came pumping back in full force, its every hard and heavy thud telling her that she had no time to lose.
“Maehdina, alshaykh.” I’m sorry, sheikh. “I just remembered that there is an urgent errand the queen has tasked me with. I beg your forgiveness, but please excuse me, Your Highness.” She bowed without meeting his gaze and turned away without letting the sheikh speak another word.
Yes, she knew she was being abominably rude, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
As she rushed away, she felt the sheikh’s eyes follow her, and she almost tripped over her feet at the smoldering heat of his gaze.
Oh curse the man, but it was as if his gaze was actually laying a claim on her body, letting her know that it was only a matter of time before she, too, came to his bed willingly and offered her virginity---
NO.
NO, NO, NO!
Oh.
Anisah ducked her head as soon as she caught sight of Sheikh Tarif Al-Atassi coming up the stairs, dressed in an elegant grey tweed suit. Among his cousins, he was the only one who seemed to have a stated preference for Western clothing over their kingdom’s traditional robes; it was a trait Anisah secretly found baffling, considering he was also the only full-blooded Ramilian one among the five sheikhs that made up the kingdom’s highest branch of government.
With the sheikh now only a few steps away, Anisah came to a stop and once he was near enough to hear her, she murmured respectfully, “Yam jamil, Your Highness.” The term meant ‘a beautiful day’ in their language, a formal greeting commonly used when greeting one’s superiors.
Afterwards, she waited for the sheikh to walk past her like he usually did.
But this time he did not.
Instead, the sheikh stopped right in front of her, asking lazily, “Anisah, is it not?”
Her head jerked up in confusion, and violet eyes unintentionally clashed with hooded black eyes.
Although all Al-Atassi sheikhs were gorgeous beyond belief, most people agreed that Tarif was the most seductive one among his cousins, with the way his six-foot-plus frame of pure, sinewy muscles pulsated with a blatantly sexual aura – it was as if every inch of him was designed to arouse, and the simplest contact from the sheikh could make a woman come.
The silky texture of his ebony hair that begged to have a woman’s fingers rake through it, the dark eyes that could make a woman come with one scorching-hot look, the hard, perfect lines of a face so achingly beautiful it could make one ache just by looking at him---
“Anisdi?” My lady?
Anisah’s face flushed with color when she realized she had been practically staring at the sheikh like an infatuated little fool. Curses! This was one of the reasons she had worked hard to perfect the art of being invisible when this particular sheikh was around. And for so many years now, her trick of acting submissive and boring to avoid drawing his attention had always worked.
Always.
Until now, that was.
Clearing her throat, she managed to answer in a steady voice, “Nem, alshaykh.” Yes, sheikh. “That is my name.” And hopefully that would be the end of it, and the sheikh would soon go his merry way to wherever his next rendezvous was.
Unfortunately, the sheikh seemed in a mood to prove her wrong every instance.
“It’s a pleasure to finally have a chance to speak with you.”
The words had Anisah at wit’s end, and she couldn’t help lowering her gaze as she muttered, “The honor and privilege is mine, Your Highness.” There was nothing she despised more than dishonesty, and yet here she was, forced to speak falsehoods. But then again, what choice did she have?
Despite being much younger compared to other scholars, Anisah was already considered as one of the kingdom’s leading authorities on Ramilian history and etiquette. Was she supposed to forget everything she stood for just so she could tell Tarif Al-Atassi to his face she---
“I wonder if you truly mean that, anisdi.”
The sheikh’s tone remained lazy, but even so Anisah couldn’t keep her gaze from narrowing suspiciously at the sheikh. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that the sheikh was actually mocking her.
But that wouldn’t make sense, Anisah thought with a frown. Her ability to conceal her dislike towards the sheikh was something she took great pride in, and she couldn’t think of a single incident that she had let her true feelings slip.
Deciding she was being merely fanciful, she said finally, “I sincerely apologize if I have behaved in a manner that suggests otherwise---”
“Not at all,” the sheikh interrupted her. “I have been observing you for the past two months---”
Her eyebrows shot up. For what possible reason could the sheikh have been observing her for two long months?
“And your self-control has been nothing but remarkable.”
It was?
“But I digress.” The sheikh’s lips curved in a smile then, and Anisah stiffened. No. It could not be. It could not. And so she rubbed her eyes hard, but when she peered fearfully up at the sheikh one more time, the cursed smile was still there---
Allah save her!
She had seen that smile a thousand times, and she had always thanked Allah that such a smile had never been directed at her because it was an omen from hell. In the fifteen years she had lived in the palace, she had seen that smile directed at the women the sheikh had intended to bed – and he had always succeeded in doing so – as well as breaking their hearts in the process.
Did that mean she was next?
Her heart came to a screeching halt at the thought, but when she saw the sheikh’s lips start to move, her heart came pumping back in full force, its every hard and heavy thud telling her that she had no time to lose.
“Maehdina, alshaykh.” I’m sorry, sheikh. “I just remembered that there is an urgent errand the queen has tasked me with. I beg your forgiveness, but please excuse me, Your Highness.” She bowed without meeting his gaze and turned away without letting the sheikh speak another word.
Yes, she knew she was being abominably rude, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
As she rushed away, she felt the sheikh’s eyes follow her, and she almost tripped over her feet at the smoldering heat of his gaze.
Oh curse the man, but it was as if his gaze was actually laying a claim on her body, letting her know that it was only a matter of time before she, too, came to his bed willingly and offered her virginity---
NO.
NO, NO, NO!
Ahhh "sigh".. Right that's how all of Marian Tee books make me fell like I've accomplished something great by reading it but feel sad because I don't want it to end. Another exceptional story that levels you wanting more. I could not put it down and had to wipe the tears that kept falling.
Here you finally get to meet Tarif and Anisah and what a story from their barb comments to each other to hot sizzling chemistry kisses (n much more). This coupe just makes you feel for them with all their childhood trauma just messing up their adult love life. Anisah who avoided Sheikh Tarif and a little bad mouthed about him to the other Sheikh soon finds herself the center of attention by none other then Tarif. He drives her nuts but on the plus side she drives him insane too. Betrayal, Iove and redemption all wrapped up in one.
Can't wait to read Rayyan and Hyacinth story!
- Amazon 5-star review
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