I Married A Sheikh. Sharon Vita De

been blind not to see the amount of money in the account.

      She glanced up at Ali. His face was cool, calm, serene. She glanced back at the screen. Something didn’t add up. Perhaps there was another account. She punched in another set of numbers, but no other files were found.

      Concerned because she’d been privy to their conversation, Faith looked curiously at Ali once again. He met her gaze levelly, as if willing her not to speak. It was not her place, or her business, so she said nothing, stepping back so he could view the computer screen.

      Ali retrieved a pair of reading glasses from his pocket and leaned down to examine the screen for a moment.

      “There now, see?” With a delighted smile, he straightened, then hit the button that would close it before anyone else could view the figures. “There is more than enough money to cover whatever expenses you and Alfred have. I’m sorry you haven’t gotten a statement yet this month.”

      “Posh, Ali, you know I can never read or understand those blasted things. That’s why I tell you to keep them and do it for me.”

      “Yes, I know, dear.” He replaced his reading glasses in his pocket. “So now will you please stop worrying?” He chuckled. “Pretty soon you may have more money than me.”

      The woman laughed in relief, putting a hand to her heart. “Thank you, Ali.” She expelled a deep breath. “I knew I’d feel better if I stopped to see you.” She smiled. “You do always calm me down.”

      He went to her, helped her to her feet, then handed her her cane. “Now, if I promise to come to dinner next week, do you promise to stop worrying?”

      She paused at the double door. “I promise.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek again. “Thank you, Ali. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

      “Probably find another man to charm.” He lifted her hand for a kiss. “And you are most welcome.” He opened the double doors to walk her out. “Now, give my love to Alfred, tell him I’ll stop by on Friday for another game, but this time I intend to win.”

      “Don’t count on it, Ali,” she said with a laugh. “In some things he hasn’t lost his touch.” There was a sad wistfulness in her voice.

      Faith stood behind Ali’s desk, confused, concerned, waiting for him to return.

      “You lied to her,” she accused the moment he closed the doors behind him.

      If he was surprised by her accusation, he didn’t show it. “Yes, Faith, I did.” His voice was so calm, so complacent.

      “But you said she was a dear friend.”

      “That was not a lie, Faith.” He went to the windows to draw the drapes against the heat of the late afternoon sun. “She is a very dear friend.” He turned to her. “And a client.”

      Faith cocked her head, anger simmering just below the surface. “Do you always lie to your clients?” The mere thought appalled her.

      His eyes darkened dangerously as he turned to her. “No,” he said slowly, carefully. “Of course I do not.”

      “Could have fooled me.” Fists clenched at her side, Faith shook her head, trying to comprehend his actions. It seemed to confirm her worst suspicions of him, and for some reason left her surprisingly disappointed. “You told her she had more than enough money when she barely has ten thousand dollars in her account.”

      “No Faith, that is not what I said to her. You were not listening carefully.”

      “I was right here, I heard what you told her.” Her voice edged upward in anger. “You said—”

      “I said that there was more than enough money to take care of any needs she or Alfred might have.” His voice was deathly quiet, his eyes oddly intent on her, making her shiver.

      Fury nearly had her shaking. “But you know darn well that was a lie. She hardly has enough money to get through a few months.” Faith couldn’t prevent the outrage in her voice. She couldn’t believe he could be so casually careless about something so important to someone he cared about.

      It wasn’t just callous, it was cruel. And it infuriated her.

      Her fists clenched at her side as she took another step closer. “Obviously Maureen Jourdan is someone you care a great deal about, and she obviously cares for you. Why and how could you lie to her?” Her simmering temper erupted into a full boil. “What kind of a man are you?”

      Dark emotion swept over his face and he, too, stepped closer until they were nearly standing toe to toe.

      Inches taller, he seemed to be looming over her with his powerful, dark presence.

      Faith refused to back down, refused to take a step back, refused to allow him to get away with something so perfectly cruel, so inhumane, it brought tears to her eyes.

      Perhaps because it hit too close to home and to her ever-fragile heart.

      She knew from experience what it was like to have someone you loved, depended on, lie to you, tell you they would take care of you, tell you there was more than enough money for whatever your needs, and then find out that it was lies. All lies.

      Devastation was a word that could barely cover the desperation such lies created.

      Like her father, apparently Ali didn’t consider the consequences of his behavior, or his lies on others.

      “Be careful, Faith,” Ali warned in a voice that made her shiver. Instinctively, Faith ran her hands up and down her chilled arms.

      Tilting her chin to meet his gaze, her eyes blazed at him. “Why, because you don’t like to hear the truth? Because someone knows exactly what you are?” It wasn’t hard to recognize him; it was like looking at her father all over again.

      “Be careful, Faith,” he warned again in a slow, low voice that almost made her take a protective step back. But Faith refused to back down, refused to cower. She’d been forced to do it once in her life; she’d not ever allow another man’s lies to reduce her to that again.

      Ali took several slow, deep breaths in order to control the feelings swirling inside, ready to erupt. No one had ever dared speak to him in such a manner. Not ever. Nor had anyone ever accused him of such unspeakable behavior before, and he found that it caused a near volcanic eruption inside of him.

      His father, in his ultimate wisdom, had taught him at an early age to control his temper, which could be a vicious thing if unleashed.

      And right now the leash was straining.

      “Son, a man who cannot control his temper can never be in control of himself, can never truly be a man.”

      He heard his father’s words, but at the moment, they rang hollow and empty through his mind, his memory.

      Looking at Faith, he realized what she thought of him, what she’d accused him of, and it angered him as nothing had in a long while.

      He was a man who prided himself on his integrity and character. He had been taught that integrity, character and a man’s name were the three most important assets a man could possess. Something no amount of money could buy, something to protect, treasure and value. He had worked hard his entire adult life to build and maintain all three.

      He could not remember the last time someone had questioned his integrity. Especially a woman. No one would dare. No one but Faith.

      It angered him, and yes, hurt just a bit because it mattered what she thought of him and he had no idea why.

      “What kind of man do you think I am?” He parroted her question back to her, his voice filled with the emotion he was struggling to contain.

      Faith merely blinked at him, trying not to respond to his closeness, his temper, his presence. In spite of her anger at him, he was a powerful man, and that blatant power radiated from him like sun off a sidewalk.

      If