help him find or choose a mate would be disrespectful and perhaps hurtful, something the sheik would never do."
"I see," Faith said dully, realizing that apparently there was a whole lot she really didn't see.
At least not about Sheik Ali El-Etra. She was going to have to rethink her entire opinion of him.
"Are you finished with your meal, Ms. Faith?" Kadid was reaching for the now empty tray.
Thoughts churning, Faith merely nodded. "Yes, Kadid." She had to swallow, but her throat felt like a boulder was stuck in it. "Thank you very much for being so thoughtful. I was starving."
He smiled. "I cannot take credit for your meal, Ms. Faith. Sheik Ali asked me to please see to it that the chef prepared something for you since he was pretty certain you had not taken the time to eat today." He lifted the tray, sliding her empty soft drink cans onto it. "Can I get you anything else?" He reached for her empty plate, placed it on the tray. "Some dessert perhaps?"
Faith shook her head. "Not unless that chef of yours has some crow cookies."
* * *
The music was soft and slow, the lights subdued, the champagne imported and very, very cold.
Bored, Ali stood in the back of the glittering ballroom, letting his eyes wander across the crowded floor, praying his date for the evening—Candy or Cookie or whatever her name was—would keep herself busy for a few minutes to give him some blissful peace from her endless chattering.
With a deep sigh, Ali realized in spite of his annoyance at his date, he could not gather any anger for his parents, and their infernal, eternal matchmaking.
Tonight had turned out to be another disaster. But his parents meant well, and their actions were done out of a sense of deep love for him, a love that he returned tenfold.
Usually he found their mismatching endearing and slightly amusing.
But not tonight.
Tonight, he was too disturbed to be amused by the company of a beautiful, but vacuous woman whose only interest in life was the increasing size of her breasts and decreasing the size of his bank account.
He couldn't help but compare her to Faith. He had not stopped thinking about her, or the rather rancid encounter they'd had yesterday afternoon.
In spite of his annoyance, he caught himself smiling. Faith, who showed such passion for all that she did, for everything in her life. She was a woman who had and displayed genuine feelings. Anger. Impatience. Annoyance. And even disappointment.
With a frown, he thought of their conversation again, thought of it, and regretted it. He couldn't help but wonder what he had done to give her such a terrible opinion of him.
Perhaps, he mused, as he sipped his mineral water and breathed a grateful sigh as his date was snagged by Ronald Preston for a walk on the terrace, Faith merely disliked men.
No, he couldn't believe that. She was far too passionate about everything to turn her back on a relationship. No, he had a feeling it was him in particular she didn't care for, and he couldn't help but wonder why.
He was certain most women found him rather pleasant to be around, fawning and falling all over him. Faith, on the other hand, treated him with a suspicious air, as if he was about to snatch her purse and make off with its contents. The contrast was so drastic, so distinct, he could not help but find it both annoying and amusing.
Faith was quite simply an enigma, unlike any woman he had ever known.
She was a self-sufficient, independent woman who obviously did not care one whit about fashion or his bank account. In fact, she actually seemed offended by his wealth.
Nothing like the women his parents were constantly trying to fix him up with.
He had known since birth that he had a responsibility and obligation to marry and produce an heir.
But he would do so, not out of obligation or responsibility, but out of loyalty and respect for his parents. It was expected, required, yes, but family meant far too much to him to do anything merely to uphold a
"I see," Faith said dully, realizing that apparently there was a whole lot she really didn't see.
At least not about Sheik Ali El-Etra. She was going to have to rethink her entire opinion of him.
"Are you finished with your meal, Ms. Faith?" Kadid was reaching for the now empty tray.
Thoughts churning, Faith merely nodded. "Yes, Kadid." She had to swallow, but her throat felt like a boulder was stuck in it. "Thank you very much for being so thoughtful. I was starving."
He smiled. "I cannot take credit for your meal, Ms. Faith. Sheik Ali asked me to please see to it that the chef prepared something for you since he was pretty certain you had not taken the time to eat today." He lifted the tray, sliding her empty soft drink cans onto it. "Can I get you anything else?" He reached for her empty plate, placed it on the tray. "Some dessert perhaps?"
Faith shook her head. "Not unless that chef of yours has some crow cookies."
* * *
The music was soft and slow, the lights subdued, the champagne imported and very, very cold.
Bored, Ali stood in the back of the glittering ballroom, letting his eyes wander across the crowded floor, praying his date for the evening—Candy or Cookie or whatever her name was—would keep herself busy for a few minutes to give him some blissful peace from her endless chattering.
With a deep sigh, Ali realized in spite of his annoyance at his date, he could not gather any anger for his parents, and their infernal, eternal matchmaking.
Tonight had turned out to be another disaster. But his parents meant well, and their actions were done out of a sense of deep love for him, a love that he returned tenfold.
Usually he found their mismatching endearing and slightly amusing.
But not tonight.
Tonight, he was too disturbed to be amused by the company of a beautiful, but vacuous woman whose only interest in life was the increasing size of her breasts and decreasing the size of his bank account.
He couldn't help but compare her to Faith. He had not stopped thinking about her, or the rather rancid encounter they'd had yesterday afternoon.
In spite of his annoyance, he caught himself smiling. Faith, who showed such passion for all that she did, for everything in her life. She was a woman who had and displayed genuine feelings. Anger. Impatience. Annoyance. And even disappointment.
With a frown, he thought of their conversation again, thought of it, and regretted it. He couldn't help but wonder what he had done to give her such a terrible opinion of him.
Perhaps, he mused, as he sipped his mineral water and breathed a grateful sigh as his date was snagged by Ronald Preston for a walk on the terrace, Faith merely disliked men.
No, he couldn't believe that. She was far too passionate about everything to turn her back on a relationship. No, he had a feeling it was him in particular she didn't care for, and he couldn't help but wonder why.
He was certain most women found him rather pleasant to be around, fawning and falling all over him. Faith, on the other hand, treated him with a suspicious air, as if he was about to snatch her purse and make off with its contents. The contrast was so drastic, so distinct, he could not help but find it both annoying and amusing.
Faith was quite simply an enigma, unlike any woman he had ever known.
She was a self-sufficient, independent woman who obviously did not care one whit about fashion or his bank account. In fact, she actually seemed offended by his wealth.
Nothing like the women his parents were constantly trying to fix him up with.
He had known since birth that he had a responsibility and obligation to marry and produce an heir.
But he would do so, not out of obligation or responsibility, but out of loyalty and respect for his parents. It was expected, required, yes, but family meant far too much to him to do anything merely to uphold a
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