But he had had the love of his life once, and knew that he would not risk his heart to another again. He could not, for he could never allow his heart to be at risk again.
It had almost killed him when Jalila had been killed. He had loved her totally, completely, with his heart and soul, and knew that they would have a wonderful future, a wonderful life, and marriage.
He had no desire to ever love that deeply, that desperately again.
But he had an old-fashioned belief that a man was meant to have an equal partner, a mate to share all of life's joys and sorrows.
But he did not want just a paper marriage, with a beautiful vacuous woman, a marriage that was merely an obligation, legally binding, but morally, physically and emotionally bankrupt. Such a thing would be not only dishonest, but an affront to his own personal integrity.
No, he wanted a partner, an equal, a woman he could respect, care for, but one he would never love.
Because of his position, he needed a bright, intelligent woman who was her own person, with her own thoughts, goals and ideals. Qualities that complemented and enhanced her femininity.
A woman who was not impressed by what he had, but by who he was. A woman who could see past all of the material objects in his life that were necessary and expected because of his title, to the flesh and blood man beneath it all.
A woman who would settle for a marriage without the deepest commitment of love. She could have all that he had; she just could never have his heart.
Not such an unpleasant situation, really. They would have a stable, secure marriage, steeped in respect, mutual interests, passion and intelligence without all the bothersome emotional details that could entangle a relationship and strangle it.
Although his parents' marriage had been arranged, they had become true life partners, partners who respected each other and had made a wonderful life together. Love had never entered the picture; perhaps that was why his parents' marriage had succeeded so well.
Ali sighed, sipping his drink. Unfortunately, until he found a suitable bride, his parents would continue to fix him up with the daughters and cousins and nieces of friends, hoping against hope that one would be the right fit.
And he realized that out of his deep sense of loyalty and love for his parents, he would simply have to accept it.
But that didn't mean he had to like it.
With a sigh, Ali let his gaze wander across the dance floor. He lifted his glass to take a sip, and his arm froze halfway as he spotted a familiar redhead on the dance floor.
Faith.
Ali turned, setting his glass down on the bar, so he could move closer, narrowing his gaze on her partner.
Aaron Josslyn. Ali's brows drew together in a concerned frown. The man drank far too much, and had a reputation for treating women roughly, but because of his parents' wealth, Aaron's behavior was commonly overlooked.
Ali skirted the dance floor so he could watch them.
His mouth went dry as the desert of his homeland as his gaze took Faith in.
While other women wore glittering jewels, her body was completely unadorned. Most of the gowns this evening were bright, vivid, low-cut or skintight, revealing much more than they attempted to conceal.
Among them, Faith stood out like a proud, elegant eagle among a yard of preening peacocks. Her gown was black, simple, sleeveless and high-necked. It drifted in layers to the floor, floating over that heavenly, lush, body in a way that would make a healthy man's loin's ache.
Her hair was down tonight, falling free and wild in a riot of fiery curls that caressed the beautiful, feminine curve of her shoulders, framing her face like a rich, amber halo.
He couldn't take his eyes off her. And neither, apparently, could Aaron.
Or his hands.
As they turned, Ali caught a glimpse of Faith's face as Aaron began to paw her on the dance floor. She was white, with twin spots of color on her cheeks, and her eyes were wide.
Ali's vision hazed as he felt a hand of anger clutch his gut. He'd never considered himself a jealous man; he'd never had the opportunity to experience the emotion. But now it seized him by the throat, nearly knocking the wind out of him.
He had learned from his father how to control his emotions, to behave in the respectable, gentlemanly fashion befitting his position.
The emotions tearing through him right now were neither respectable nor gentlemanly.
Without taking his eyes off them, Ali crossed the dance floor toward them.
"May I cut in?" Although his voice was low and polite, it vibrated with anger as he clamped a hand down hard on Aaron's shoulder.
"Go away." Aaron didn't even bother to glance at him, but kept his attention on Faith, who was now openly struggling to free herself from Aaron.
Still smiling, Ali tightened his fingers on the man's shoulder until he winced.
"Hey, this is my dance and I'm not done." Aaron's words were slightly slurred as he tightened his arms around Faith, dragging her closer. "Get lost!"
"Aaron!" Pressing her hands to his chest, Faith tried to arch away.
Ali didn't wait. With one quick movement of his hand, he knocked Aaron's arms away from Faith, then moved between them, sweeping her into the protective embrace of his arms, putting his body between her and Aaron.
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Aaron's voice rose in the crowded room; thankfully it was drowned out by the strains of the song. He reached for Ali, who whirled on him.
His face was a fiery mask of venomous rage. "You're drunk, Aaron. Go home while you can still walk of your own accord." Ali grabbed the lapels of the man's tux and dragged him closer, nearly lifting him off the floor.
Aaron's eyes bulged in their sockets, and his Adam's apple danced up and down.
"One more word out of you and I regret to say you will need an ambulance to take you home." Ali's voice was low and controlled so as not to alarm the other guests. A scene would only further embarrass Faith. "Now get out of here."
Ali released the man so abruptly, he stumbled. Then Aaron scrambled off the dance floor, pushing his way through other couples.
"Are you all right?" Ali asked, gently taking Faith in his arms again and smoothly leading her around the dance floor as if there had been no incident.
"Ali." Her voice held a bit of relief as her arms instinctively went around him. She nearly sagged against him. "Thank you. I'm fine, really."
He drew back to look at her, his face concerned. "You're trembling." He could easily thrash Aaron Josslyn without a second thought. The man was a barbarian.
"I—I know." She glanced at up him, surprised by how relieved she was to see him. "I'm all right, really. I was more angry than frightened. He's an idiot, but I didn't want to create a scene." Discreetly she glanced around, relieved to see no one seemed to be paying the least bit of attention to her.
Ali smiled. "Yes, I understand." He held her lightly, gently, but beneath his hands he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath her gown, feel the press of her curves against his chest.
His blood stirred, heated at her closeness, at the knowledge of her body pressed so closely, so intimately against his.
She was close enough now that he finally caught a brief hint of her scent. It was something incredibly feminine and subtle, something familiar, yet he could not put a name on it.
It was not an expensive French perfume, for he recognized almost every one of the overpowering scents of the imported fragrances.
No, this was something far too delicate, like a whispered memory one couldn't quite recall, the kind that stayed with you for a while, yet had enough of a kick to heat a man's blood and his imagination, making him wonder if her body carried that scent all over.
He had a feeling it would be a pleasure to find out. "Are you sure you're all right?" He tilted her chin up, saw the shadows in her eyes.
His breath tickled the small tendrils of hair framing her cheeks, causing goose bumps to rise and her heart to scamper like a ter
rified rabbit.
She had to swallow hard before she spoke because her mouth had gone dry at his touch, at the tender look in his eyes.
"Y-Yes, really, Ali, thank you." She glanced away. He was too close, and the intensity of his closeness was too much. "I appreciate what you did."
She didn't want to admit she wasn't trembling as much from Aaron's ridiculous groping as she was from the fact that Ali was holding her intimately.
Ali glanced behind him to be certain Aaron was gone. "The man is a rude, arrogant fool who should not be allowed out in public."
"And those are probably his good points," she teased, glancing up at him, trying to break the sudden tension quivering between them.
She couldn't believe how the man looked in a tuxedo. It was probably illegal to look that good, she decided, realizing that in spite of her own reservations and cautions, she wasn't immune to Ali's incredible good looks or unbelievable charm.
Faith sighed. So, she was human, at least she could admit her appreciation for the male species, this male in particular, without losing her head. Maybe that was a healthy thing.
Swaying with him to the soft strains of the music, Faith glanced up at him. "What are you doing here, Ali?"
He shrugged. "The host is one of my clients." Smiling, Ali nodded in greeting to another couple who danced by. "I try to attend as many of my clients' functions as I can. It is good for business."
She laughed. "Some business. The tickets to this gig were five thousand dollars apiece."
He shrugged. "It is for a worthwhile charity, Faith, and I believe good causes deserve our support." Amused, and delighted to have her in his arms, he studied her face, noted in spite of her formal attire she did not have on a bit of makeup. She'd never looked lovelier. "And you, Faith? What are you doing here?"
"Besides arm-wrestling with an ape?" She laughed. "Mr. Josslyn invited me. The Senior Mr. Josslyn," she clarified. "I've been trying to land his account for several months." She frowned, trying to concentrate on the dance steps. Ali's closeness, the scent she now recognized as only his, and the intensity of his gaze were making her nervous, causing her to lose her concentration. "He asked me to come this evening. It's the only night he's in town and he said we'd have a few minutes to meet."
"And have you met with him?" His glanced at her unpainted mouth. It looked unbearably inviting, and he thought of his first impression of her the first day they'd met—she had a mouth made for kissing and kissing well. A well of warmth unfurled low in his gut, causing him to tighten his hand on hers, wanting to hold her closer.
"Unfortunately, no. Something came up at the last minute and he couldn't make it." His hand was very soft, very gentle, yet strong, masculine. The kind of hand that could soothe or arouse.
For an instant Faith wondered what it would feel like to have that hand warm her in other places. Female places. The thought made her blood seem to heat and pump faster through her veins.
"Do not concern yourself about it." Ali flashed her a glorious smile that nearly made her stumble. She forced herself to concentrate on her feet and the dance steps as he led her around the crowded dance floor.
"I have known Abner Josslyn for a long, long time. We have been partners in several ventures over the years. Once I tell him what a marvelous job you have done for El-Etra Investments, I'm sure there will be no problem arranging a proper meeting."
Touched, she tried to hide the joy that stole through her at his words. A sterling recommendation from Ali would go a long way toward cementing her firm's growing reputation.
"That's very generous of you," she said softly. "And kind. I appreciate it very much considering the things I said to you yesterday afternoon."
"The truth is not much to appreciate," he said with a laugh.
Tilting her head, she met his dark gaze head-on. He was making her feel things, things she could no longer ignore. "Ali, why didn't you tell me about Maureen Jourdan yesterday?" Curious, she watched several emotions play across his chiseled features as he seemed to ponder her question.
Finally, he spoke. "Faith, in the first place, it would be unethical for me to discuss a client's financial situation with you or anyone else. I am in a fiduciary capacity. As such, my clients trust me to preserve and maintain their privacy, as I'm sure you understand."
"Of course, but—"
He pressed a finger to her lips to silence her, letting it linger there for a long moment as his gaze caressed her face. A shiver stole over her.
"I would never betray a confidence, Faith, not of a client, not of a friend, not of anyone. Such a thing is totally foreign to me." He saw the suspicion cloud her eyes again but this time only for a brief moment.
"In spite of what you may think of me, integrity, honor and respect are all integral parts of my life." He smiled a slow, seductive smile that made her blood race. "Blame it on my parents." He shrugged. "It is how they raised me."
Confused, she shook her head. "But you stood there and let me accuse you of lying to her, to me. You allowed me to…" Faith's voice trailed off and she realized how ludicrous she sounded.
Her eyes slid closed. Good Lord. He hadn't let her do anything. She'd done it all on her own.
"I owe you an apology," she said softly, unaware that she was arching against him, pressing closer to him to feel the warmth radiating from him. "The things I said…" Ashamed, her voice trailed off. "They were unconscionable. I jumped to some unfair conclusions and accused you of some terrible things. What I did was unfair and unwarranted."
"Unfair, perhaps." He smiled, stroking a finger down her cheek, wanting to erase the frown of worry. "Unwarranted, not at all, Faith, not if you believed me to be the things you accused me of. I would certainly expect you to have a low opinion of me, one that I would truly deserve."
"But you're not any of the things I accused you of, are you?" There was something powerfully mesmerizing about his eyes.
"No," he said slowly, grateful that perhaps they'd finally reached some kind of watershed. "I am not. But that of course is for you to discover and judge for yourself." His gaze searched hers as he continued to hold her, moving closer to bring her closer. "And I appreciate your apology," he whispered. "Sometimes admitting we are wrong is a very difficult thing."
Faith nodded. He was beginning to shatter the entire image she'd had of him. Now she wasn't certain what to believe. And it confused and frightened her.
Who was Sheik Ali El-Etra?
Faith wasn't certain she knew, not really. But she wasn't certain she wanted to find out, either.
It was much easier to accept what she once thought him to be, easier just so that she could deny the impact he was having on her, easier so she wouldn't even have to consider the way he made her feel, feelings she'd never really had to deal with before.
They terrified her.
She was smart enough to recognize the overwhelming power of the physical attraction she felt for Ali from the moment they'd met. To deny it would have been not only ridiculous, but immature, two things she'd tried never to be.
She was an adult, and accepted and expected sensuality to be a part of her life at some point with the right man.
But definitely not now, and definitely not with this man, a man who made her knees weak and her head spin just by his mere presence.
A man who seemed to have the ability to reduce her to what her mother had become.
A man she believed to be so like her father it was frightening.
A man she had absolutely no intention of getting involved with on a personal level.
But for the first time in her life she almost understood her mother's mistakes. Until now, she'd never experienced that heady rush of overwhelming sexual desire, like a living, breathing beast waiting to devour a woman if she was not careful.
And careful was something her mother unfortunately never learned to be.
She, however, had learned from her mother's mistakes.
Her mother had kept walking into the belly of the beas
t over and over again, taking her father back time and time again, no matter how many times he'd lied to her, cheated on her, until Faith had lost all respect for her mother. Then came the day her gorgeous, irresponsible father had finally left for good, taking every penny they had and her mother's spirit with him.
It had been devastating for her mother. And just as devastating for a fourteen-year-old girl who had worshipped her father, a father who left her to fend for herself, and left her with a mother who emotionally fell apart at his final betrayal and had to be hospitalized, and was never, ever the same again.
It was a lesson Faith had never forgotten. A lesson in how a woman who was not careful could get caught in a trap of her own making.
Faith knew from an early age she would never get caught in that trap.
Never depend, need or lean on a man. Never lose yourself in the emotional or physical connection to a man so that if he left, he took your joy, your spirit, your will to live with him.
From the moment she'd met Ali, Faith had secretly feared that fate had destined her to repeat her mother's mistakes.
What was it about Ali, she wondered, glancing up at him, that caused her to react so strongly?
Their eyes caught, held, and Faith's heart began a wicked thud. It was as if the music, the other guests, everything faded into the background as she merely lost herself in the depth of Ali's beautiful dark eyes.
She was suddenly so vividly aware of him and his touch, his hand at her back, the press of his chest against her breasts causing them to feel heavy, tight. The feel of his arms around her, holding, protecting her.
"You look enchanting this evening." His lips brushed her temple, moved to her ear, sending a ripple of sexual shock waves down to her toes.
Instinctively, she tightened her arms around him, letting her fingers caress the silky hair at the back of his neck.
Lifting a hand, he touched the fiery ends of her hair. It was as soft and silky as he imagined.
I Married a Sheik Page 6