I Married A Sheikh. Sharon De Vita

She could see the tiny pinpoints of annoyance glinting from his dark eyes, eyes that were nearly hypnotizing. She could see the way his mouth tightened, thinned.

      “Ms. Martin, I came to America and started El-Etra Investments on my own nearly ten years ago, without any assistance from my father or my family, financial or otherwise.” Feeling defensive, Ali glanced around the spacious room. “The only assistance my father has provided to me has been advice and counsel, something I value tremendously since he is not only successful, but a man of quality and integrity.”

      He paused to level her with a gaze that almost had her quaking in her shoes. “My father was one of my very first clients, but make no mistake, Ms. Martin, my father is not a fool. He would never have entrusted or invested part of the family fortune in this firm if it was not a viable business enterprise.”

      Faith watched him warily, the way she would eye a hungry rabid dog she’d suddenly stumbled upon.

      Apparently she’d hit a nerve, one that was particularly sensitive. He was fairly quaking with anger, and his dark, fathomless eyes were hot enough to singe the hair on her head.

      Apparently she’d really put her foot in her mouth this time.

      Faith wanted to sigh as regret swept over her. She realized she needed to pull back, get some distance, emotionally and physically, and apologize.

      She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize this job. Not because he was of royal blood, or rich. Neither meant a hill of beans to her.

      But his business did.

      She needed it in order to secure the bank loan that would help her expand into larger offices and hire a few more consultants. But none of that was possible if she ticked off El-Etra and lost this account.

      In spite of her own apparent disdain for the man and his lifestyle, she needed to remain emotionally uninvolved, not let her own personal feelings about his life, his reputation or his wealth affect her business sense.

      Detached. Completely and totally detached. She had to remember that. Looking at him, she had a sinking feeling it was going to be easier said than done because he represented all the things she detested in a man.

      “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, vividly aware that he was still standing just a few inches from her, far too close for comfort. Close enough for his male scent to tantalize and tease her senses. Close enough for her to see how attractive he really was. It was totally unnerving. “I didn’t mean to insult you or your family.”

      “Family is a very sacred thing to me, Ms. Martin,” he said quietly, sincerely. Still, it sounded like a warning.

      “I’ll try to remember that,” Faith said with a nod.

      “Please do.” His eyes had cleared and his face had softened into a small smile. The man was far too gorgeous to be allowed to smile in public.

      He looked at her carefully, as if studying her. “It would be a pity if I had to reconsider my position on beheading, don’t you think?”

      Two

       “T he thing I don’t understand, Ali, is how you’ve managed to stay in business this long?” Shaking her head, Faith took a sip of her soft drink and glanced across the conference table at him.

      She’d been working on his systems nearly round-the-clock for the past three days, trying to navigate her way through the problems.

      Lack of sleep, lack of food, and a headache had left her hot, tired and more than slightly irritable, but patience wasn’t her strong suit even on her best day.

      She hoped this meeting didn’t take too long. The man still made her nervous, with his dark good looks and his impossible smile. Several times during the past few days she’d found her thoughts drifting back to their initial meeting.

      The fact that she also found herself scouring the society pages each morning to see if his picture was there—invariably it was, with a different beautiful woman each day—had become a mild irritant, something she didn’t understand.

      She was not the type of woman to spend her time mooning over a man. But she consoled herself with the thought that it was only natural for her to be curious about a man who held her financial future in his hands.

      The pictures each morning only confirmed and emphasized their differences and her rather jaded opinion of him.

      He apparently had a different date every night. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a date. By choice. She much preferred machines to men—machines didn’t lie, they didn’t leave you and they couldn’t hurt you.

      “What do you mean?” he asked with a frown.

      Faith sighed, realizing she’d been staring at him. The sun coming through the windows glinted against his facial features, highlighting the plane of his cheeks, the curve of his jaw, already dark with an early afternoon stubble. The total effect was irresistibly sexy. No wonder women swooned at his feet, obeyed his every command and begged to do his bidding.

      Annoyed by her own train of thought, Faith shook her head, averted her gaze, then glanced back down at her notes, trying to get her mind back on business.

      “Okay, Ali, let me explain what I’ve discovered so far.” She struggled to concentrate, took a breath so her voice would be calm. “First and foremost you need a new server. The one you have is not only hopelessly outdated, but not nearly adequate for your needs. I’m surprised you haven’t had a serious problem before this.” Carelessly, she flipped through her notes with a frown, then glanced up at him, surprised to find him watching her intently.

      The way the man focused his total attention on you made you feel as if you were the only person in the world. It was unnerving, and a bit annoying.

      She wasn’t accustomed to being scrutinized so closely by a male, particularly such a potent male. It was definitely having an effect on her, and only increasing her nervousness and irritability.

      “Second, you need a completely new operating system, something you’ll be able to use not just today, but in the future as well. In addition, each workstation needs new, updated monitors, keyboards and programs that will complement the new operating system.” She stopped, rubbed the throbbing in her forehead, then sighed, wishing she could read her own handwriting.

      “And above all, Ali, you have to install anti-virus programs on each and every workstation. With the proliferation of viruses out there, you’re far too vulnerable without it. I think that’s what happened to your system. I think you picked up a virus somewhere, probably in an e-mail attachment from someone, the kind that sics itself onto your hard drive, and then begins eating your files.” She sipped her warm soft drink, wishing for a hot sandwich and a colder drink.

      She shrugged her slender shoulders. “That’s the only thing I can figure out right now. It’s the only explanation I can find. I’ve checked and rechecked everything else.” And she had the headache to prove it.

      He leaned forward in his chair, his concentration total. “Do you mean that perhaps someone has done this deliberately?” Concern etched his words and she sought to soothe his worry.

      “Deliberately?” She considered. “No. Not necessarily. Certain software is particularly vulnerable to this type of virus. Hackers think it’s cute to send viruses out that disrupt businesses and destroy data.”

      “This type of thing is done for fun?” He looked so shocked, she laughed.

      “Believe it or not, yes.” She cocked her head. “Guess you’re not in Kansas anymore.” At his frown, she realized he didn’t have a clue what she was referring to. She laughed. “Never mind, it’s just an expression.”

      “An expression?” He continued to frown. “What does Kansas have to do with my computer system in California?”

      Amused, Faith realized she was going to have to give him a crash-course in American pop culture. “Did you ever see the movie