Page 42 of Her Irresistible Sheik
Then he was striding out of the conference room, confusion and growing concern tightening his stride.Why archery?Had something happened?Was she nervous?Did she not feel safe?
He took the shorter route to the courtyard, the one directly adjacent to his office wing and meeting chambers.No one should’ve been using that space.It was highly secure, with limited access.But in hindsight, he could understand why his staff would’ve directed Nahla there instead of the larger but less guarded lawn near the stables.
Still, all understanding evaporated when an arrow zipped past his right shoulder.
Mikail jerked back, eyes narrowing at the faint clatter of the arrow landing harmlessly behind him.There’d been so little power behind it, it wouldn’t have pierced his shirt—let alone skin—but still.
“Nahla!”he called out, announcing his presence sharply.
She spun around.Thankfully, there was no arrow notched in her bow.But there was also no sheepish grin, no teasing smile—just a wide-eyed expression of guilt.
“What are you doing?”he demanded, his tone sharper than he’d intended.His eyes scanned the courtyard: there were arrows everywhere.The target was straight in front of her.The arrow that had nearly hit him?How the hell had she shot backwards?
The idea defied every known law of physics.
Nahla flinched, then… actually tried to hide the bow behind her back.
He stared at the very obvious tip of the bow sticking up above her head.
Adorable.Absolutely ridiculous—and utterly adorable.
Then she smiled.That damned sparkle appeared, and he nearly groaned.
“Nothing!”she chirped brightly, stepping to the side in what had to be the world’s least subtle attempt at a diversion.
Mikail bent down, picked up the rogue arrow, and stood again, twirling it in his fingers as he arched an eyebrow.“Nothing?”
With a dramatic sigh, Nahla surrendered.She brought the bow back around, holding it loosely in one hand like it had personally betrayed her.“I’m trying to learn a new skill, okay?”Her expression soured slightly as she glanced at the scattered arrows.“Clearly I’m not good at it yet, but I’m improving.”
He held up the arrow between two fingers, pointing the feathered end toward her.“This one flewbehindyou.”
She looked slightly abashed at his comment and shifted her weight to the other foot.“Yeah, well, it’s not the easiest of sports.”
“Why did you choose archery?”he asked, casually strolling through the courtyard as he picked up scattered arrows.
“I don’t know.”She shrugged.“It seemed interesting.And more mathematical than sweat-based.”
She flexed the fingers on her right hand, clearly feeling the unfamiliar strain.
He nodded toward the bow in her grip.“Let me see what you’re doing.Maybe I can offer a few tips.”
Nahla narrowed her eyes suspiciously.“And I suppose you’re an expert?”
“I’m not an Olympian,” he replied with a lazy smile, “but I can hold my own in a competition.”
She gave him a look that hovered somewhere between curiosity and challenge.After a long pause, she finally sighed and turned.“Fine.I guess I should take whatever help I can get.”
He handed her the arrows he’d gathered, and she laid them on the grass beside her, notching one and squaring her shoulders.
After taking a breath and trying to focus, she lifted the bow, pulled back the string, and released.The arrow veered wildly to the right.
“You’re putting too much pressure on your string hand.”Mikail walked over and gently took her right hand in his.With practiced ease, he massaged her fingers.“Your wrist’s starting to fatigue, I’d guess?”
“Yeah.”She tilted her head.“What am I doing wrong with the tension?”
He stepped behind her.“Notch another one.”
She did, silently adjusting her grip.
