Her Seductive Enemy

By Marian Tee

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?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marian Pinera
• Release date: May 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223501077

Book preview

Prologue

Two years ago

Your Majesty? Queen Harper?

But the queen didn’t even look her way and rushed past Anisah with her head bowed and her shoulders shaking. Foreboding stirred inside the queen’s court tutor, and after a moment’s hesitation, Anisah ran after the queen.

Your Majesty!

Anisah managed to catch hold of the queen when the other woman seemed to stumble upon crossing the palace’s massive doors. Your Majesty, please—- Anisah helped her up, and that was when she saw the tears running down the queen’s face, and the unspeakable pain in her eyes.

What’s wrong? she whispered.

I’m sorry, Harper choked as she wrenched her arm out of her tutor’s hold. I’m sorry. The queen’s voice shook. But I just can’t—- She stopped, the words she wished to speak causing her too much to pain, and in the end all she could do was whisper, I’m sorry. I just need to do this.

The queen ran down the steps of the palace, and the sight of her solitary, trembling figure had Anisah feeling frustrated and helpless. There was a nagging feeling inside of her that she had to do something.

But what?

Biting her lip, she sent a quick prayer to the heavens, picked her skirts up, and then she was running, too.

By the time Anisah reached the gates, it was already chaos, the guards up in arms as mad protesters shook the gates while a sobbing Harper publicly performed a ritual that signified she was leaving the king.

Oh dear God, what was happening?

The outer gates suddenly swung open, and the mob turned rabid as they rushed in. Noise erupted from behind, and when Anisah spun around she saw another large crowd rushing towards the scene, led by news-hungry reporters and the unmistakable figure of Sheikh Mahmud.

Violence threatened to break out, and the repugnant stench of anarchy began to stain the air. Sheikh Mahmud was still shouting; such horrifying, vile words of accusation against the queen, words that had Anisah wrapping her arms around herself as she twisted and turned, ran and crouched, all to avoid being trampled and getting caught in the crossfire.

Danger danced around them, dressed in bloodlust, and Anisah felt like throwing up. If any of the words the sheikh were shouting was true, then as a citizen of Ramil, her loyalty was to the kingdom, and her duty was clear.

She must not support the queen.

But...

None of the sheikh’s words made sense. None of it! To believe him was to believe that every moment she spent with the queen was a lie, and that she could never believe.

Never!

One of the protesters shoved a hooded figure towards her, and Anisah automatically reached for the woman to keep her from falling.

Are you alright—- She broke off in the middle of her question when she caught sight of a familiar pair of green eyes, the only part of the woman’s face revealed by her niqab. Joanna? Anisah gasped.

The other woman gripped her wrist. We should go! We could get killed here!

No, wait—-

But her friend had a death grip on her wrist, and Joanna was able to forcibly drag her all the way to the edge of the crowd.

I said wait! Anisah was finally able to yank her hand free from her friend’s hold. I need to go back, she heard herself say.

Joanna gaped at her. "Are you insane? Don’t you see what’s happening?"

The queen could get hurt.

The queen’s a traitor, Joanna hissed.

No, she’s not! Anisah’s voice was fierce, and if anything, her friend’s accusation only made what she needed to do all the clearer. She gestured to Joanna’s headdress, asking abruptly, May I borrow that?

What for? Joanna was visibly suspicious.

I’ll explain later. Will you lend it or not?

Less than a minute later, and Anisah was running straight back into the crowd, her identity now effectively concealed under the layers of silk of her friend’s niqab. The queen was sobbing now, begging for her personal guards not to involve themselves, and the sound wrenched Anisah’s heart.

Khayin! Traitor!

Anisah saw one of the protesters rushing forward from the sides, a large rock in his raised hand. He started to take aim, and a horrified cry escaped her when she realized where he had set his sights.

Your Majesty, duck!

The queen, recognizing her court tutor’s voice, instinctively crouched down, and her guards, alerted by the words, immediately raised their swords in defense. Farid was the first one to see the rock hurled at his queen and deflected it with his blade, causing it to change direction and strike one of the protesters. The man cried out as he touched his bleeding forehead.

First blood.

A cry of outrage rose from the mob, the sight inciting rage and unleashing madness, and a moment later—-

Red.

The color of violence, of fear, of death—-

Of war winning over peace—-

Anisah pulled her own dagger from the hidden strap under her skirt. She would not stand by and do nothing. She would defend her queen, even if it meant sacrificing her own life.

****

Two months ago

Stop. At Sheikh Tarif Al-Atassi’s command, the technician immediately hit Pause, and tense silence reigned in the palace’s war room as the digital screen spanning the entire wall displayed a woman wearing a distinct-looking niqab of silver silk suspended mid-action, skirt raised up to her knees, and her fingers wrapped around the dagger she was about to unsheathe.

Andy, the palace’s newly hired technician (and ex-inmate), knew he had no business being intimidated, but he was. ‘Tall, dark, handsome’ was a phrase oft used to describe the five Al-Atassi sheikhs in the room with him, and prior to marrying his foreigner wife, moving to Ramil, and becoming employed at the palace, Andy had secretly thought that was all there was to the kingdom’s most powerful sheikhs.

He had met a good number of wealthy men during his former career as a hacker, and all of them had been one of three things: idiots, assholes, or both. He had thought the Al-Atassi sheikhs would be exactly like them...until of course he had found himself joining the king and his cabinet of vassals in a closed-door meeting at the palace’s war room.

And that was that, Andy thought with a silent gulp, the memories of his first meeting with the sheikhs still more than enough to make him quail inside with fear. There had been Altair, the ex-assassin sheikh whose scarred face only made him more terrifying. There was Rayyan, the sheikh who seemed to have ice in his veins, with his unflinching ability to make decisions that would have made grown men cry. There was Malik, the one who had his pulse on all of the world’s greatest innovations, and of course there was the king, whose patriotic resolve was reminiscent of Arthur’s love for Camelot.

And then of course there was Tarif. 

Tarif Al-Atassi, the kingdom’s so-called playboy sheikh, was what the modern world considered the ‘fan favorite’ because of the roguishly charming demeanor he always presented to the public. Of the five Al-Atassi sheikhs, Tarif best fit the bill of Prince Charming, and so the masses’ adulation of him was unparalleled—-

And that, in many ways, was what made him the most dangerous of the five, Andy thought. Tarif had the art of deception perfected. He was so skilled in manipulating people that he could have opposing sides salivating to kiss his ass without either of them knowing they were already being controlled. One moment the sheikh would smile at you, the next thing you knew the sheikh would have stabbed you at—-

Andy.

The technician shot up straight in his seat at Sheikh Tarif’s voice.

Yes, Your Highness?

Can you zoom in on the woman’s weapon? The technician hurried to do his bidding, and Tarif’s gaze narrowed as he took note of the drawing engraved on the dagger’s gold-and-silver hilt. His knowledge of weaponry might not be equal to Altair, the kingdom’s Commander of Armed Forces, but even Tarif knew what the woman held in her hand was no ordinary knife.

And when he looked at his cousin, Altair’s curt nod confirmed his suspicion.

Zoom in a bit more, Altair commanded.

Andy did as asked, and as the writing on the hilt became legible, Tarif noted the way Altair and his younger brother Malik simultaneously stiffened in recognition.

Having observed the same unusual reaction, Khalil asked, You recognize the weapon then?

Yes. The faintest hint of disbelief colored Altair’s voice.

And?

It belongs to the Kahveci family. Malik shook his head as he spoke, his expression of incredulity mirroring that of his older brother’s.

Tarif frowned. Kahveci...as in Sidqi Kahveci?

None other. Altair’s tone was flat. Glancing at the technician, the sheikh ordered, Continue with the video.

Andy clicked on Play, and the shaky footage taken by a civilian resumed playing on the giant screen.

The sheikhs watched in taut silence as the woman joined in the fray, her every movement exhibiting a curious mix of anxiety and skill. The way she wielded her dagger suggested years of practice, but the way her hand trembled hinted of deep-rooted fear and reluctance: she did not want to hurt anyone, but she would do so if forced.

The camera’s focus then swung away from the woman, this time focusing on the queen, who was crying and begging for her personal guards to stand down. Khalil’s face clenched at the sight of his wife’s distress, and by the time the footage reached its end, the atmosphere inside the war room simmered with ill-restrained rage.

Knowing that the next words they would speak of were best restricted to their ears alone, Tarif dismissed the technician with a quiet nod of thanks, and Andy almost forgot to bow in his haste to leave. The sheikhs’ moods had taken a dangerous turn, and he wanted to be as far away from it as he could. The last time he had been around a rich, angry man, Andy had ended up becoming a human punching bag simply because the file Andy had hacked for a client had turned out worthless.

As soon as the door closed behind the technician, Rayyan asked sharply, Wasn't Kahveci the traitor executed fifteen years ago for leading a coup against King Khalid? And if he recalled correctly, the palace had then covered everything up and made the man’s death appear an accident to save his family from public disgrace.

Yes, that is him, Altair said grimly, and it is the Kahvecis’ coat of arms engraved on the hilt.

You are certain of this? Khalil questioned.

Not only am I certain of this, but I’m equally certain that his dagger had not left his clan’s possession.

And with Altair’s confirmation, the four other Al-Atassi sheikhs came to understand that the woman so bravely defending the queen in the failed revolt could only be one of the two daughters the palace had rescued from Sidqi’s residence. The older girl had been eleven at that time while the younger one had been four, and when the palace had found them, both girls had been severely malnourished. Apparently, starvation had been one of their father’s favorite forms of punishment.

It can’t be Hyacinth. Rayyan’s tone was hard as he referred to the younger of Sidqi’s daughters, the very same woman who now interned for him as his personal assistant.

You’re certain of this? the king asked in an equally hard voice.

"Nem."

The other sheikhs exchanged quiet looks of interest at their cousin’s clipped tone. As the five men trusted each other implicitly, none of them had any problems taking Rayyan’s word for truth. Even so, one question remained in their minds: how was Rayyan so sure of the girl’s whereabouts that night?

It was a puzzle worth mulling over, but for now the other sheikhs put the matter aside. There were more pressing issues at hand, and time was far from being on their side. That it had taken the palace two long, frustrating years to gather sufficient evidence on the failed revolt still chafed at them, and they were still no closer to identifying the true culprits behind the attack. For now, the sheikhs were concentrating on identifying who was and wasn’t on their side—-

And the courageous woman who hid her face behind the silver niqab was definitely fighting in their corner.

Staring at the woman with flashing violet eyes on the screen, Tarif tried to summon her image to mind now that he had the necessary clues to her identity.

Hyacinth’s older half-sister was the queen’s former tutor as well as Kyria’s, wasn’t it? And her name was...Anisah? As soon as he thought of the name, a vivid picture flashed in the sheikh’s mind: a tall, slender woman wearing stern-looking, black-rimmed glasses and perpetually dressed in a dark-colored abaya.

Harper never spoke of this to me, Tarif heard his king murmur thoughtfully.

Malik snorted. Are you truly expecting otherwise? You know how Anisah hates any kind of fanfare.

That’s true, Rayyan acknowledged. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had asked the queen to not speak of her involvement.

Altair smirked. Actually, I wouldn’t even be surprised if Anisah threatened our queen with a two-hundred-point test if Her Majesty so much as hinted of her heroics.

The four sheikhs laughed while Tarif’s puzzlement grew.

Something wasn’t fucking right here.

Why do you all know her so well, Tarif questioned, and I don’t? His cousins’ laughter abruptly died down, but Tarif wasn’t fooled at all. This time, he had a feeling that all four men were silently laughing...at him.

Well? Tarif’s tone was now testy. Just fucking spill it.

Khalil let out a polite cough. There’s, err, nothing to spill.

Like I’d fucking believe that. And when the other four sheikhs grinned, Tarif knew he was right in suspecting the lie in the king’s words.

She’s been living and working here since she was eighteen, Malik began.

Tarif’s eyes bored through Malik’s. That still doesn’t explain things. Hundreds of people lived within the palace’s vast compound, and he knew all of them as well as the other sheikhs did. So why was it that this Anisah was different? How was it that all of his cousins appeared to be so familiar with her, and he alone was not?

Do you really want the truth? Altair asked finally.

What else do you think I’ve been asking for from the—-

The king interrupted him, saying simply, She doesn’t like you.

I think she used the word ‘immature’ when describing you, Rayyan put forward solemnly.

I believe she also said something about our brother being a man who has no business in the courtroom since he spends too much time hopping from one bedroom to another, Altair mused.

A disgrace to the palace, Malik drawled. I distinctly recall her saying this as well.

And then Tarif said very slowly, I see.

The four other sheikhs’ amusement disappeared in a flash.

That tone was not good...for Anisah.

Do not take her words personally, the king said immediately.

You chose to portray yourself as a playboy, Rayyan asserted. It’s not her fault she sees you the way the rest of the world sees you.

Best you forget her, Altair said. She is not worth your time.

Anisah is a good woman, Tarif, Malik insisted. She does not deserve whatever it is you’re planning.

I understand, brothers. Tarif’s tone was of utter politeness, and at the sound of it, the four other sheikhs winced in shared regret.

Well, that was it then.

They had just turned Anisah into a challenge, and everyone in this room knew how much Tarif loved challenges. It was what Tarif lived for, and there was nothing he would not do to conquer one.

Chapter One

Present time

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