I Married a Sheik (22 page)

"I went to see her almost every day, and every day when I arrived, I'd find her sitting at the window, even in the institution, waiting, certain my father was coming for her. She sat in that window waiting every single day until the day she died." Faith glanced at Ali. "He never came back."

"Oh, Faith." There were no words that could ease the sorrow and pain that she had endured, nothing that would ease or erase the awful memories that had etched a place in her heart. If there was, he would find it.

"What happened to you after your mother…passed away?"

"Right after she was institutionalized, the county social workers sent me to live at the Hopechest Ranch. After her death, I had nowhere else to go so I lived there until I finished high school. When I turned eighteen, I left for college, working my way through fixing computers. I'd become interested in them while I was living at the ranch." She shrugged. "After college, I applied for a Small Business Administration loan and opened my own computer consulting firm. The rest is history."

"Faith, I am so very, very sorry."

"Don't be. What happened is in the past, but I did learn a valuable lesson from it."

"What lesson?" he asked with a frown.

"I learned that I'd never, ever make the mistakes my mother made, certainly not about a man. Not
any
man," she added firmly, looking at him. "I'd never trust or believe a man I knew to be a womanizer or a liar. I'd never trust or believe a man who cared so little for others' feelings that he'd deceive people he loved."

Guilt washed over Ali like a tidal wave. From her tone, he wasn't certain if she was talking about her father or
him.

"Faith, you cannot possibly believe for a minute that I am anything like your father." The thought horrified him as nothing in his life ever had before. "Surely you cannot believe that I would—"

"Would what, Ali?" she asked softly. "Deliberately lie to someone you love? Deliberately deceive them?"

Disheartened, he stared at her for a long moment, realizing what she said was true, in the strictest sense, but both times his lies, his deceptions had been to spare a loved one's feelings—Maureen Jourdan's and his parents'—not to hurt them. He could not even conceive of such an action.

But clearly, Faith did not see or want to see the distinction. And he knew he had no defense against her words.

But now, now, he finally understood why she reacted so strongly each time she believed him to be deceiving someone he loved.

But how on earth would he ever get her to see the man he truly was?

Twelve

Palm Springs

"Y
our home is magnificent," Faith said in amazement, as Tibi showed her around the El-Etra estate.

Set on five secluded acres, the home was a two-story stone and brick Tudor surrounded by lush gardens, fountains and enormous gardens.

A discreet guarded gate prevented prying eyes or unwelcome visitors from exploring the enormous estate in one of the most exclusive enclaves in Palm Springs.

Linking her arm through Faith's, Tibi smiled as she led her around the back gardens, toward the patio that overlooked the sparkling pool where Omar and Ali were having a before-dinner drink.

"Thank you, Faith dear. Although our main home is in Kuwait, we wanted to have something here in the States so that we would have an excuse to visit our son." With a laugh, Tibi patted Faith's arm. "When you have children of your own you will understand that no matter how old they get, they are still your children and you worry about them."

"So did you enjoy your tour?" Omar asked, getting up to greet them.

Faith smiled. "Yes, very much. Your home is lovely."

Omar took her hand, and led her to one of the plush ivory garden chairs. "You are to consider it your home now as well, dear."

"Would you like something cold to drink, Faith?" Tibi took the chair next to her husband. "Or would you prefer to rest before our guests arrive?"

"Guests?" Faith shot a nervous glance at Ali, who had been surprisingly quiet since they'd arrived. He shrugged his shoulders, clearly clueless about this turn of events.

Tibi smiled. "Yes, I hope you don't mind. But we've invited a few old friends over for dinner. We are so very happy that Ali has finally found happiness, we wanted to have a chance to show you off, so to speak." Tibi reached for Faith's hand, a slight frown on her elegant face. "I hope you don't mind, dear. It's just friends, and nothing fancy. We're actually going to have a simple barbecue." She glanced at her watch. "In fact, the caterers should be arriving shortly to set everything up."

A
few
old friends? Simple barbecue? With caterers? Feeling a bit overwhelmed, but determined to hide it, Faith forced a smile she didn't feel, grateful once again that she'd spent the morning shopping.

"No, of course I don't mind." She smiled to hide her nervousness. "I'd be honored to meet your friends."

Tibi glanced at her husband. "We could not let the occasion of our son's engagement pass without having a bit of a celebration." She looked so joyous, Faith didn't have the heart to put a damper on her mood. But the thought of being the center of attention at a dinner was enough to make her feel faint.

"Well, as long as there will be guests for dinner, perhaps I should go upstairs and rest for a bit." Faith stood up, needing some time alone.

"Ali, show Faith to her room, sweetheart. I put her in the guest room in the west wing, in the room adjacent to yours."

Ali drained his glass of mineral water, then stood up. "I'll be happy to, Mom." Dutifully, he took Faith's hand, gently tugging her close. "I think I'll rest for a while, too. I'm tired from the drive, and I had a long night last night."

"You're working too hard," Tibi said, leaning back in her chair to beam at the happy couple. "Faith, once you are married, you should insist he come home at a decent hour and have dinner with you. Being a workaholic is fine when you're a single man, but now that you will have a family, Ali, your priorities need to change."

"Do not lecture, dear," Omar said with affection, reaching out to stroke his wife's cheek. "Let the children be. They will find their own way, as we once did."

"You are right, dear," Tibi said with a laugh. "Go now, go rest before dinner. I'll call you in plenty of time to freshen up and change."

* * *

"Good grief, this room is big enough to house a football team," Faith said as Ali led her into the beautiful two-room suite that would be her home for the weekend. Knowing his room was right next door—a quick glance told her there was a connecting door—only added to her nerves.

"I hope you will be comfortable here," Ali said as he went to the double French patio doors and opened them wide, letting in the fresh afternoon air.

"Comfortable?" Faith did a slow pirouette, trying to take everything in. "I could probably hide out in here and it would take months for anyone to find me."

The room, done in beautiful shades of pink and lime-green, was a vision of elegance. The huge canopy four-poster bed looked to be a genuine antique, as did all the other exquisite pieces of furniture.

The carpeting was a plush lime, while the walls were papered in a delicate pink-and-lime silk stripe. A pink-and-green overstuffed satin chaise longue sat at a comfortable angle to the patio doors, allowing one to sit and merely observe the beautiful gardens below.

A mahogany English writing desk was snuggled into one corner. It, too, had a matching pink-and-green striped chair.

Double doors leading to a sumptuous bath were open, allowing Faith to see the huge, sunken marble tub large enough for ten.

Around the room were various sized vases filled with beautiful pink roses, no doubt from Tibi's magnificent gardens.

"I need to unpack." Nervous tremors were shaking her knees and causing her stomach to flip-flop. She wished he'd leave so she could fall apart quietly. She didn't want him to know his mother's announcement had terrified her.

"It's been done for you," he said with a quiet nod toward the walk-in closet.

"Oh." She wasn't accustomed to having servants do things for her and she wasn't certain she was comfortable with it. But when in Rome, she thought, turning to Ali to find him watching her curiously, quietly.

"What?" she asked, trying not to fidget under his dark, intense gaze.

"You are upset, Faith."

"Upset? Me?' She tried to laugh, but her throat had gone dry and it came out a croak. "Why would I be upset?"

He merely watched her, gauging her mood. "You are nervous about tonight, and the guests." It wasn't a question, but a statement, and she cursed the fact that she was so transparent.

She twisted her damp hands together. "Ali…" She flushed. "I'm not very good with people," she admitted miserably. "I don't have much experience socializing."

To see strong, independent Faith struggling with nerves over a little party touched him beyond measure. She had bravely gone through so much at such a young age, that the thought that something like a small social gathering could fluster her tugged at his heart.

She had done so many things without anyone to help her, to protect her, but this, he silently vowed, she would not go through alone or unprotected.

He would not allow anything to fluster her or frighten her, not while he was around.

He'd gotten to know and judge her moods very well and could see the quiet desperation clawing through her. It made his heart ache because she was trying so hard to be strong, and brave.

For him, he realized. She'd done this for him. And his parents.

"Do not worry," he said softly, going to her to take her hands in his and giving them a reassuring squeeze. He wanted to draw her into his arms, to wrap them tightly around her, to hold her, shield her so that she never feared anything ever again.

"It will only be my parents' friends," he said gently, hoping to soothe some of her nerves.

"Yes, but—" She had to swallow. She was nervous enough without having him right in front of her, touching her. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in a fall wind. Why she bothered to think and talk when he was so close, when he was touching her, was a mystery. She forced herself to concentrate. "I really am not very good at small talk or chitchat." She shrugged, glancing past him so she wouldn't have to lose herself in those magnificent eyes of his. "People really do make me nervous. I've always been far more comfortable with machines."

"So you've told me." He wondered if she knew how utterly irresistible she looked at this moment?

"And what am I going to say to these people?" Flustered, her gaze searched his. "I mean they're going to want to know all about me, and there's not much to tell." She frowned. "I don't like talking about my personal life, what there is of it, and then of course, they're going to want to know all about us, about the engagement, the wedding. Good Lord—" She broke off, getting more unsettled by the minute. "Ali, I don't have any answers for them."

And the thought terrified her. Just the thought of being put on the spot, having to deal with questions she had no answers for, made her nearly cringe.

This little deception of theirs was getting more complicated by the minute.

She tilted her head back to look at him, and then realized it was a mistake. His face, that glorious mouth, was barely inches from hers. Her memory replayed the impact that mouth had on her and her body reacted immediately, filling her with an intense type of longing she wasn't quite sure what to do about.

She swallowed, feeling her own mouth go dry.

"Faith, please, do not worry." Unable to watch her discomfort, he drew her into the comforting circle of his arms. "Do not worry. I will take care of everything." Gently, he rubbed his hands up and down her back. "I promise I will not leave your side." He rested his head atop her hair. She fit perfectly, he thought, allowing himself the pleasure of concentrating solely on the feel of her against him. The way she smelled, that wonderful, sweet, feminine scent that always seemed to linger in his senses. The soft curves of her breasts, her hips. The way those long legs of hers brushed against his.

He drew back to look at her. "I will be with you every moment, stuck to you like a sticky piece of gum to the bottom of a shoe."

"Well now, there's an image," she said with a smile, realizing he was deliberately trying to lighten the mood.

"We are in this together, Faith."

Together.
The word reverberated around in her mind.

Together.

With Ali.

But just for this weekend, she reminded herself sternly. And only for pretend.

"I just don't want to do anything to embarrass your parents. I—" She frowned, then thought better of what she was going to say, instead, merely sliding her arms around his waist and ordering all the tension to leave her body.

With a sigh, Faith allowed herself to relax against him, to let his warmth and words comfort her. Wearily, she laid her head on his shoulder, realizing how good it felt, how comfortable it seemed, how right it was.

Stunned by her confession, he drew back, looked deep into her eyes, his heart aching with a burgeoning emotion he refused to name or identify.

"Is that what this is about?" he asked softly, searching her face. "You are concerned about perhaps embarrassing my parents?" How could she know that nothing could have touched his heart more?

Looking at him, she nodded miserably, unable to tell him how important this was to her. She knew she was not the type of woman
he
could love, knew it and was trying to accept it, but clearly, his parents didn't feel the same way.

And they had been so kind to her, so totally accepting and loving, she wouldn't hurt them for the world.

"Oh Faith, how you move me." With a sigh, he pressed a kiss to her hair, her brow, her cheek, letting his mouth linger, savoring the sweetness of her. "You are the most incredible woman I have ever known." He kept sliding his mouth over her skin, letting his lips soothe and arouse. "You are so genuine, so real, so totally unaffected, you make my heart sing in a way I'd forgotten it could."