I Married A Sheikh. Sharon De Vita

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СКАЧАТЬ was until she reminded herself of his reputation as a playboy who went through women faster than a termite through rotted wood. She pretty much knew this was not a man she was going to have much in common with.

      He reminded her too much of her father. Another handsome, irresponsible playboy who’d cared little for those who’d cared for him, less for the broken hearts he left behind.

      Faith almost shivered. She’d made it a practice to steer clear of this type of man. Thank God she didn’t have to deal with him on a personal level. She didn’t have much patience for immature male nonsense, and what little she’d had her father had worn out years ago.

      Having to deal with this man professionally was going to be more than enough, judging from this first encounter.

      “Ms. Martin.” There was a hint of annoyance in his tone and Faith took a step closer, wondering what the heck he had to be annoyed about.

      “I believe we have an appointment?” One dark brow lifted in an imperious manner, only further annoying her. Impenetrable dark eyes stared levelly at her, as if taking her measure.

      “Had,” she corrected, marching back toward him, feeling as if his twin nearly black eyes could see through her. “Had an appointment, Mr…. Sheik El-Etra.” She tapped the face of her no-nonsense sports watch. It matched the rest of her no-nonsense outfit. “Almost two hours ago.”

      “It’s Ali,” he said quietly.

      Faith blinked again, trying to shake off the shivers that deeply masculine voice had caused. It was an exotic blend, deep, smooth, with just a hint of an accent. “Excuse me?”

      “It’s Ali.” He tilted his head, and she thought she saw a small smile curve the corner of that elegantly sculptured mouth. “My name, it is Ali.”

      His smile bloomed, transforming his face into something breathtaking. Faith felt her own breath wither in her throat. Her heartbeat sped up, and she resisted the urge to take a self-protective step back, to put some distance between them.

      “Although I’m sure you’ve thought of other things you’d like to call me.” Amused, his dark eyes twinkled, and Faith flushed, embarrassed that she’d allowed her temper to overrule her professionalism, and embarrassed that she was allowing herself to have such a strong physical reaction to him.

      Her flush deepened. “I’m not accustomed to being kept waiting,” she said defensively, meeting his gaze. “My time is at a premium—”

      “As is all of ours,” he countered, looking at her curiously. He was not accustomed to having a woman look at him as if he’d just slithered from between a crack in the flooring, and he was absolutely certain he didn’t care for that cold look of suspicion she was aiming at him, as if she’d examined and found him lacking.

      It was most unusual, and hardly the reaction most women had to him.

      He spread his hands in supplication. “I apologize, but this delay could not be helped. I have been dealing with just one of many crises today. We will, of course, compensate you for your time, Ms. Martin.”

      “It’s not merely a question of money,” Faith snapped, irritated that he apparently thought money was her only concern. “Some things are more important than money.”

      One brow lifted again. “Really?”

      It figured he would think money was the only important thing. Something else he had in common with her father. Looking at him, looking into those dark eyes, she had the strangest feeling he was mocking her. Faith stiffened.

      “To some people money isn’t the be all and end all. It’s a question of time and priorities. I have other clients who were in dire straits today and needed my assistance, clients I put off because your needs seemed to have been the most urgent. Apparently that’s not the case.”

      “On the contrary, Ms. Martin. My needs are most urgent.” The tone of his voice had changed, softened, making her think of other needs, more primal needs, and she felt an unfamiliar heat flare through her.

      “And contrary to your initial statement, Ms. Martin, I take my business very, very seriously.”

      Fascinated, Ali studied her. She was, he decided, too plain to be considered beautiful, but there was something about her, even in her drab clothing, that was elementally interesting.

      The khaki slacks fit snugly at her waist and flared over hips that were elegantly curved in a way that would keep a man’s head turning.

      The plain cotton T-shirt was baggy, yet didn’t hide the lush curve of her breasts or her slender, almost elegant shoulders.

      Her hair, although pulled tightly from her face and left to hang down her back in some intricate braid, was a beautiful honeyed-auburn with every color of red woven in. He’d bet his next foal it was all natural, and complemented her ivory complexion in an extremely appealing way.

      Her face was an interesting, feminine mix of angles with enormous green eyes, high cheekbones and full lips that were made for kissing and kissing well. Although judging by the looks of her, she probably hadn’t been kissed very often.

      She was not generally the type of woman a man pursued or fantasized over. She was far too plain. Her face was devoid of any cosmetics, yet her lashes were dark, long and full, shadowing her eyes and giving her a rather exotic look.

      Ali found himself curiously intrigued and could not imagine why.

      He gave a quiet sigh. Perhaps he’d been working too hard. An extremely sensuous man by nature who found everything about a woman, from her looks, to her scent, to the gentlest curve of her hip, gloriously fascinating and arousing, he had perhaps been too busy fending off the females his parents kept foisting on him to seek out a woman that could truly please and appreciate the most sensuous part of his nature.

      Although he wanted—desired—the company of an intelligent female companion, one who was more than an advertisement for the latest designer, and who could respond honestly to his passionate nature, he had no wish or desire for love. It was simply not something he would ever allow in his life again.

      Most of the women in his universe were either perfect models or beautiful debutantes who wouldn’t dare go anywhere without being decked out in their finest designer apparel.

      Their facades of beauty, minds of cobwebs and hearts of stone, which allowed little for true passion of any kind, had left him cold.

      And a cold woman was the curse of a man’s life. A fate worse than death, he believed.

      In his experience a woman who was so preoccupied with how she looked rarely took the time to examine what she could feel, and a woman who could not accept, enjoy and appreciate the feelings of passion a woman was capable of was truly not a woman.

      Ali cocked his head to examine the woman before him more closely, feeling a heated arousal of interest just from the angry passion radiating from her.

      This was clearly a woman who allowed herself to feel all of life’s emotions.

      And he found her both interesting and intriguing.

      It was just a shame she was so sullen and surly.

      He СКАЧАТЬ