Emerald's Pride

CHAPTER 11

Emerald St. Clair's POV

I slid out of the limousine and stared at the private aircraft with a crest of the royal family standing proudly on the tarmac at the airport here in Saqr. Beneath my sunglasses, my eyes narrowed. It seems that Al-Farsi doesn't know the word discreet.

We're finally going to New York as he promised after holding me against my will herein Saqr, after the photoshoot for the latest St. Clair Diamonds.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw a man get my luggage from the car and transfer it to the private aircraft. I was told back at the palace that 'the king' was already at the airport and he was waiting for me so we could travel to States.

That man! I thought furiously. He didn't even bother to wait for me before coming here. Why? He doesn't want his bride-to-be to get jealous again because of me?

Well, I have so much news for this egoist brute. The sooner we landed on New York soil, the faster I would be out of his life. He can immediately fly back here so he can marry that woman. I could feel that my teeth started to grind for some unknown reason.

It's because of the desert heat. I justified my uncalled anger silently. The scorching sun here in Saqr was making my thoughts irrational. The sooner I can get back to the infamous chilly weather of New York City, the better.

I noticed that the grounds crew were waiting for me to ascend the iron stairs of the airplane. Taking a deep breath, I carefully move forward to the iron steps, fully aware of my heeled shoes clicking while climbing the stairs.

Once I caught the sight of that barbarian king, I would gladly show him the cold New York winter that was waiting for him on my home turf, and inside his very own damn plane, I thought acidly.

As I finally arrived at the luxurious interior of the aircraft. I saw my nemesis casually sitting on the cream-colored leather seat near the window while busy with his laptop. My breath was caught in my throat when I saw him already wearing western clothes, way different from the man who kept on bothering me while wearing the traditional clothing of his country. This was the Khalil Al-Farsi that I knew.

My heart skipped a beat when I realized how devastatingly handsome he was in his expensive handmade trousers and white dress shirt, with the first two buttons open and the sleeves rolled to his arms, which contrasted his tanned skin. There's no way in hell I would tell him that. I would rather die first before admitting it.

He must have felt my presence when he slid his gaze away from the screen of his laptop and gave me a once-over. A frown marked his aristocratic eyebrows as his eyes focused on my feet.

"Really, habibti?" he asked disapprovingly, his expressive cobalt eyes filled with irritation at the moment. "Heels?"

I raised an eyebrow in his direction. Hiding the fact that seeing his displeasure makes me feel victorious. "So?" I asked sanguinely, looking at my outfit. I have to admit that I wore the best attire that I packed in my luggage. An all-white business suit with killer heels. I put my hair in a high tight ponytail that gives me a professional and sophisticated look at the same time. "What's wrong with my outfit?"

He consciously rubbed his forehead with his finger while closing his eyes. After exhaling a loud breath, he focused his attention back on me once again. "My love, do you think that it's advisable to wear such sky-high shoes while your ankle is still recovering from your injury? Look, it still has bandages. That means your ankle is still healing."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Don't worry. I'm fine."

"Don't be so hard-headed, Emerald," he snapped at me. His eyes were ablaze with such fire in their depth. "There's a thin line between defiance and stupidity."