I Married A Sheikh. Sharon Vita De

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I Married A Sheikh - Sharon Vita De


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      “Modest, too, I can see,” Ali said, with a cautious smile of relief. Plain, but feisty, he decided with a hint of amusement. An interesting combination.

      “No, Mr. El-Etra, not modest, just honest.” Her chin lifted. “Honest, and the best, but my time is valuable, and I don’t appreciate having it wasted.”

      There was anger, he noted, and something else radiating from her, something he couldn’t quite place.

      “Nor do I, Ms. Martin,” he said, making it clear that he considered her little temper tantrum a waste of his time. “If you are the best, then I trust you’ll be able to fix this insidious problem. Immediately.” It was a clear challenge, one Faith couldn’t ignore.

      “Well, I don’t know about your idea of immediate, but once I find out what the problem is, I’m sure I can fix it. I can’t tell you how long it will take, though, until I know exactly what we’re dealing with.” She met his gaze head-on. “Some things take time whether we like it or not.” And she was not about to be rushed. Sensing he was going to issue another order or command that would no doubt only tick her off more, she rushed on. “Now, if you can give me an idea of just what the problem is, it might help. I have to start somewhere. I’m good, but I’m not a mind reader.”

      His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, stung once again by her sarcasm. He drew himself upward, slipping his hands in the pockets of his pants. “We are a full-scale investment firm, Ms. Martin, and once a month an assortment of checks are issued to each and every client, checks of different denominations for different purposes, of course.”

      “Of course.” She wished he’d stop staring at her. He was making her…itchy.

      Ali blew out an exasperated breath. “A few days ago, on the first of the month, when the first batch of checks were distributed, the system began spitting out checks in the wrong denominations. In addition, we discovered that it was also crediting deposits to the wrong accounts and in the wrong amounts. Both new funds, interest, as well as divestitures were misappropriated to the wrong accounts.”

      With a shake of his head, Ali glanced down at the neat sheaf of papers on his desk. He’d spent hours going over paperwork, trying to fix this problem, then more hours on the phone, soothing investors. He felt as if he hadn’t left his office in weeks.

      “As a result, chaos has reigned. My accountants did not discover the errors until after the first checks had been mailed and the first irate calls started coming in.” His brows drew together as he remembered the flurried panic among his staff that morning.

      “Our in-house computer experts were at a loss as well. They began searching for the problem—”

      “Immediately,” she injected with a nod of her head, causing him to stop and stare at her for a long moment. Obviously this was a man not used to being interrupted, judging from the look on his face.

      “Yes,” he said slowly, still watching her carefully. “But alas, they came up empty. They tried various things, unfortunately, nothing worked. As a result, we had to completely shut down our entire computer system simply because it is set up to distribute and print checks automatically. I have been deluged with calls from angry investors who have either not received the proper funds or have not received any funds at all. Now, unfortunately, they have begun to question the integrity as well as the security of my firm.” He sounded as if he was surprised by this.

      “Well, that would do it for me.” She slipped her hands in the pockets of her jeans and rocked back on her heels. “If I’d invested my life savings in a firm and found out they’d screwed up and sent my money to someone else, I’d be a tad annoyed as well.”

      “Screwed up?” His dark eyes narrowed and she could hear Mr. Kadid sigh from behind her. Apparently telling the sheik he’d screwed up wasn’t part of the proper protocol. “This cannot continue, Ms. Martin,” he said in clipped tones. “So as you can see, this is of an urgent nature and must be attended to. Immediately.”

      Perhaps if he hadn’t sounded like he was issuing a command, she might have softened at his plight.

      “Situations happen whether we allow them or not. And as for urgent and immediate, I’m not the fire department,” she clarified, watching his face darken. The assistant was apparently back to sighing again as well. “Clearly you’ve got a problem with your accounting program,” she said, meeting his gaze. “But it wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

      He stiffened and his eyes went cold at the perceived insult. “I can assure you, Ms. Martin, that my staff is more than qualified to handle almost any situation that arises—”

      “But apparently not this one. If they were, I wouldn’t be here.”

      Her words hung in the air for a long moment, and Faith wondered if perhaps she’d gone too far. But the man was just so…downright arrogant, she couldn’t help but goad him a bit.

      “Touché.” He nodded, as if he was gracing her with some great gift, and allowed a small smile to touch his lips. “But of course you are right. This was one problem my own people have not been able to solve.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “El-Etra Investments prides itself on its impeccable reputation. As I’m sure you can understand, when someone trusts you with their money, any hint of impropriety can have devastating effects, not just on your actual business, but also on your reputation. And in this business, your reputation is everything.” He took a slow, deep breath. His gaze never left hers. “I have assured my investors that this problem would be solved immediately, and although I have ample insurance to cover such an occurrence, it is my name on the firm, and I have vowed to personally make good on every single penny invested and due. We’re in the process of personally distributing checks now to every investor to cover any losses, differences or discrepancies.”

      “You have that kind of money?” The question popped out before she could stop it. She glanced around. This was no mom-and-pop store, but a big-league operation that no doubt had millions of dollars invested in it.

      The mere idea of having that kind of indeterminable wealth almost stopped her heart.

      For someone who had struggled, pinched pennies, worked two jobs just to put herself through school, and had gone deeply in debt just to start her own fledging computer consulting business and had worked like a dog for seven years to make a go of it, the thought of endless funds seemed like nirvana.

      And this man discussed it without so much as a blip in his voice.

      “But of course,” he said simply, as if they were talking about pocket change. “Why, are you planning on raising your rates?”

      She couldn’t help but grin. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it before, but now, I just might consider it.”

      “Ms. Martin, I am Sheik Ali El-Etra.” The way he said it made her wonder if she was supposed to bow or something.

      “So I’ve heard, since everyone around here keeps telling me, although I can’t possibly imagine why.” Apparently she was supposed to be impressed.

      She wasn’t.

      “It means nothing to you?” For a moment he didn’t know if he should be annoyed or amused. Most women he encountered had all but done a Dunn and Bradstreet check on him before he ever met them.

      “I don’t have a clue what your title means or why it should be important to anyone but you.”

      He couldn’t help the little stab to his ego. “My title, Ms. Martin, merely means that I am of royal blood.”

      “Royal blood?” One brow rose suspiciously. “Right.” This time the sigh from behind her was louder, and laced with just a bit of…panic, she thought. “Royal blood?” she repeated with a frown, considering. “You mean like a king or queen or something.”

      “Or something,” he admitted with a slow nod.

      “And of course no one thought it was important to mention


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