I Married A Sheikh

The impact he had on her, the reaction he caused, the feelings and emotions he aroused on a totally different plane—on a man-to-woman level—terrified her in a way nothing had in a long, long time.

Perhaps that was why she had such a difficult time remaining detached.

She knew these things, and had hoped that she could simply ignore them and go about her business without letting them interfere.

She’d been wrong.

She’d promised herself she’d stay uninvolved and unemotional. She’d just broken her own rules, and now it might cost her this job.

“Are you firing me?” she asked carefully, cursing the small catch in her voice.

Consciously, she forced herself to take a deep breath and to relax, uncurling her fists. She was suddenly so tense, the muscles in her neck were cramped.

“I am not.” His gaze never left hers. She could not read the emotion that darkened his eyes. “I am merely asking if perhaps you would prefer not to work for me because I am obviously so…repugnant to you.”

Guilt washed over her like a steady rain, and Faith immediately felt contrite. “I’m sorry.” With a weary sigh, she pushed a few strands of hair off her cheek, struggling for control. “I don’t find you repugnant, Ali.” Her voice was soft and she realized she spoke the truth. “And I apologize if I gave you that impression. It’s really none of my concern how you run your business.”

“True.”

“It’s just…” She paused, at a loss to explain her feelings.

“Sometimes, Faith,” he said softly, unable to resist stroking a finger down her cheek, brushing aside a wayward strand of hair, “a lie is not necessarily a bad thing.”

The impact of his words, words she’d heard so many times as a child had her insides trembling.

So he admitted he didn’t think lying to someone he cared about was a bad thing. His words merely confirmed her worst fears about him.

Raw disappointment etched a place in her heart, right alongside the one her father had carved so many years ago.

It was none of her business, she reminded herself firmly. It was no concern of hers what he did or who he hurt or who he lied to. She needed this job, and she had no desire to anger him further.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, I’d better get back to work.” She wanted to get away from him, to forget the scene she just witnessed. To put him and his damning words and deeds out of her mind.

Realizing that he could say nothing further on the subject, Ali nodded in agreement. “Thank you for bringing me up to date. I will have Kadid make certain you have everything you need in order to get started first thing in the morning.”

“Fine.” She stepped around him, went to the table and gathered her notes, then walked toward the doors. She didn’t look back at him, she couldn’t. She didn’t want him to see the tears she couldn’t hold back any longer.

Three

“M s. Faith, I apologize for disturbing you.” Kadid stood in the doorway of the sprawling room that held the entire systems operations for El-Etra Investments.

The walls and floors were a rather utilitarian gray, computer towers, monitors and printers in various states of disarray dotted every square foot of desk space. The hum of machines filtered through the air.

“May I come in, please?” he asked politely.

Turning from the computer she was working on, Faith managed a smile at the tray he carried. There was a glass full of ice, several cans of cola and a sandwich. “Of course.”

“I took the liberty of having the chef prepare a little something for you.” He set the tray down on the desk next to her, nudging aside a keyboard she’d disconnected.

“Bless you.” She eyed the tray greedily.

“If it is not to your liking, I will be happy to have him prepare something else.”

“You have a chef here?” she asked, picking up one half of the delectable-looking sandwich and taking a bite. She nearly swooned. It was the first bit of food she’d had all day and it was way past the dinner hour.

“But of course,” he said with a smile. “May I?” At her nod, he lifted the can of cola and began to pour it over the glass of ice for her. “Sheik El-Etra brought him with him when he came to America. He has been with the family for almost two generations.” Kadid set the empty can down on the tray. “Sheik El-Etra is a very loyal man.”

The respectful tone of his voice and his careful words gave her the impression he was trying to tell her something.

“Loyal, huh?” She chewed thoughtfully. That wasn’t quite the word she’d have chosen for Ali after the scene they’d had yesterday afternoon. She leaned back against her chair, deciding to take a break. “Kadid, who is Mrs. Jourdan?”

He handed her the icy glass of cola, then clasped his hands together in front of him. “She is a very old and very dear friend of the sheik’s. He is not only greatly fond of her, but enormously grateful to her.”

Faith frowned. “Grateful?” This didn’t make sense. “Why is Ali grateful to her?”

Kadid was thoughtful. “When the sheik first came to America, he was only sixteen years old. There was political unrest in our country, and as an only son and heir and a descendant of the royal family, there was of course enormous concern for his safety, so his father sent him to America.”

“To live with the Coltons.”

“Yes,” Kadid said with a slow nod. “Although English is a required language for all school children, Ali’s English was not…shall we say, perfect.” His wrinkled face creased into a smile. “As you know, children, particularly children of that age, can be cruel to anyone who is not the same as they are.” He shrugged his shoulders. “The sheik was a foreigner, of royal blood, and not used to the language, customs or ways of your beautiful country.”

Intrigued, Faith reached for the other half of her sandwich. “Go on.”

“It was a…difficult time. He was at a very vulnerable age, an age when a boy is struggling to become a man, to show his strength, to develop his pride, and it was most difficult to be the object of cruelty.”

“People were cruel to Ali?”

Having been the butt of cruelty herself as a child, Faith had grown to abhor any hint of cruelty toward anyone.

Kadid nodded sadly. “Yes, I’m afraid so. The sheik has always kept his own counsel. As a member of the royal family, it is of course expected, accepted—”

“But you knew?”

His wrinkled face once again creased into a smile. “Yes. I have been with the sheik since his birth and perhaps know him as well as his father. It is the honor of my life.”

“So where does Mrs. Jourdan come in?”

“Mr. Colton was aware of the difficulties the sheik was having. Mrs. Jourdan was a teacher at the private school where the sheik had been enrolled. Mr. Colton had heard that Mrs. Jourdan did private tutoring. She was a much-beloved, much-respected member of the community, as well as an excellent teacher, kind, loving, nurturing. With Ali’s father’s permission, Mr. Colton made arrangements to hire Mrs. Jourdan to help the sheik with the language, as well as with the difficult cultural adjustment he was having.”