Page 38 of Her Irresistible Sheik
Her eyelids fluttered open.She blinked once, twice.And immediately regretted it.
She was staring at Mikail’s groin.
Her breath hitched.
Wow!
She jerked upright and cleared her throat, forcing her gaze upward in a panic.And there he was.
Mikail.In the flesh.Not a dream.Still too tall.Still too intense.Still watching her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.Had she really…?Had she touched his cheek?Had he really pulled her fingers to his face and promised—what was it?Not to run again?
Or had that been part of the dream too?
His expression gave nothing away.He looked composed.Guarded.Commanding.
Definitely not the same man who had knelt beside her like a prayer.
“Why are you sleeping in the library?”he asked.Or rather, demanded.His voice wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t gentle either.Gruff.Blunt.Abrupt.The same tone he used when issuing orders to his staff.It soothed her in a way it shouldn’t—by giving her permission to dismiss the tender fantasy version of him that had whispered to her in sleep.
Of course it had been a dream.
This man didn’t whisper.He barked.He scowled.He clenched his jaw so tight she was surprised he didn’t crack molars.
Still, her stomach fluttered with confusion.
“I…” she began, then trailed off.Her mouth was dry, and her brain felt woolly.Her back ached, her hair was a mess, and she was sure she had pillow creases pressed into one cheek.
She swept her hair away from her face and tried again.“Um…”
He raised a brow but said nothing.
Nahla slowly stood, wincing as her spine protested.Clearly, she’d fallen asleep here for a reason, but she couldn’t remember what that reason was.Just that she hadn’t wanted to sleep in her bed.Or maybe she had come in here for a book?No…she’d brought the book.Hadn’t she?
Wait—had she fallen asleepafterMikail kissed her?
Had he actually kissed her?
Or had she kissed him?
Or—had any of it actually happened?
The memory of his lips—firm, unyielding, thorough—lingered in her senses, vivid enough to blur the lines between dream and reality.
“Are you hungry?”he asked, his tone suddenly softer.
Her stomach answered for her, growling audibly.
She blushed, then nodded.“Yes,” she murmured.“Very.”
But at the same time, she became acutely aware of her rumpled appearance, the sleep in her eyes,—oh good grief, no!
A shower.Clean clothes.Maybe some mascara to make her eyes look less like smudged shadows.A brush.Lip gloss.Dignity.
And yet—when she glanced at Mikail again, she froze.
He looked… tired.Not rumpled, not undone—but tired in a way that settled in the lines around his eyes.There were faint shadows beneath them that hadn’t been there yesterday.And something in his expression—guarded as it was—looked like he’d wrestled with more than just paperwork overnight.
