Read Online I Married a Sheik by Sharon De Vita - Free Book Online
Authors: Sharon De Vita
Tags: Romance
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tradition.
Although he'd been Kuwati born, and of royal blood, he had spent so much of his formative youth in America, that he'd distanced himself from the more traditional beliefs of his countrymen.
While it was traditional in his homeland and, at times, still expected to have one's marriage arranged—particularly for those who had social, political and economic responsibilities—he was not a man who could accept or abide by an empty marriage no matter what his responsibilities.
But he had had the love of his life once, and knew that he would not risk his heart to another again. He could not, for he could never allow his heart to be at risk again.
It had almost killed him when Jalila had been killed. He had loved her totally, completely, with his heart and soul, and knew that they would have a wonderful future, a wonderful life, and marriage.
He had no desire to ever love that deeply, that desperately again.
But he had an old-fashioned belief that a man was meant to have an equal partner, a mate to share all of life's joys and sorrows.
But he did not want just a paper marriage, with a beautiful vacuous woman, a marriage that was merely an obligation, legally binding, but morally, physically and emotionally bankrupt. Such a thing would be not only dishonest, but an affront to his own personal integrity.
No, he wanted a partner, an equal, a woman he could respect, care for, but one he would never love.
Because of his position, he needed a bright, intelligent woman who was her own person, with her own thoughts, goals and ideals. Qualities that complemented and enhanced her femininity.
A woman who was not impressed by what he had, but by who he was. A woman who could see past all of the material objects in his life that were necessary and expected because of his title, to the flesh and blood man beneath it all.
A woman who would settle for a marriage without the deepest commitment of love. She could have all that he had; she just could never have his heart.
Not such an unpleasant situation, really. They would have a stable, secure marriage, steeped in respect, mutual interests, passion and intelligence without all the bothersome emotional details that could entangle a relationship and strangle it.
Although his parents' marriage had been arranged, they had become true life partners, partners who respected each other and had made a wonderful life together. Love had never entered the picture; perhaps that was why his parents' marriage had succeeded so well.
Ali sighed, sipping his drink. Unfortunately, until he found a suitable bride, his parents would continue to fix him up with the daughters and cousins and nieces of friends, hoping against hope that one would be the right fit.
And he realized that out of his deep sense of loyalty and love for his parents, he would simply have to accept it.
But that didn't mean he had to like it.
With a sigh, Ali let his gaze wander across the dance floor. He lifted his glass to take a sip, and his arm froze halfway as he spotted a familiar redhead on the dance floor.
Faith.
Ali turned, setting his glass down on the bar, so he could move closer, narrowing his gaze on her partner.
Aaron Josslyn. Ali's brows drew together in a concerned frown. The man drank far too much, and had a reputation for treating women roughly, but because of his parents' wealth, Aaron's behavior was commonly overlooked.
Ali skirted the dance floor so he could watch them.
His mouth went dry as the desert of his homeland as his gaze took Faith in.
While other women wore glittering jewels, her body was completely unadorned. Most of the gowns this evening were bright, vivid, low-cut or skintight, revealing much more than they attempted to conceal.
Among them, Faith stood out like a proud, elegant eagle among a yard of preening peacocks. Her gown was black, simple, sleeveless and high-necked. It drifted in layers to the floor, floating over that heavenly, lush, body in a way that would make a healthy
Although he'd been Kuwati born, and of royal blood, he had spent so much of his formative youth in America, that he'd distanced himself from the more traditional beliefs of his countrymen.
While it was traditional in his homeland and, at times, still expected to have one's marriage arranged—particularly for those who had social, political and economic responsibilities—he was not a man who could accept or abide by an empty marriage no matter what his responsibilities.
But he had had the love of his life once, and knew that he would not risk his heart to another again. He could not, for he could never allow his heart to be at risk again.
It had almost killed him when Jalila had been killed. He had loved her totally, completely, with his heart and soul, and knew that they would have a wonderful future, a wonderful life, and marriage.
He had no desire to ever love that deeply, that desperately again.
But he had an old-fashioned belief that a man was meant to have an equal partner, a mate to share all of life's joys and sorrows.
But he did not want just a paper marriage, with a beautiful vacuous woman, a marriage that was merely an obligation, legally binding, but morally, physically and emotionally bankrupt. Such a thing would be not only dishonest, but an affront to his own personal integrity.
No, he wanted a partner, an equal, a woman he could respect, care for, but one he would never love.
Because of his position, he needed a bright, intelligent woman who was her own person, with her own thoughts, goals and ideals. Qualities that complemented and enhanced her femininity.
A woman who was not impressed by what he had, but by who he was. A woman who could see past all of the material objects in his life that were necessary and expected because of his title, to the flesh and blood man beneath it all.
A woman who would settle for a marriage without the deepest commitment of love. She could have all that he had; she just could never have his heart.
Not such an unpleasant situation, really. They would have a stable, secure marriage, steeped in respect, mutual interests, passion and intelligence without all the bothersome emotional details that could entangle a relationship and strangle it.
Although his parents' marriage had been arranged, they had become true life partners, partners who respected each other and had made a wonderful life together. Love had never entered the picture; perhaps that was why his parents' marriage had succeeded so well.
Ali sighed, sipping his drink. Unfortunately, until he found a suitable bride, his parents would continue to fix him up with the daughters and cousins and nieces of friends, hoping against hope that one would be the right fit.
And he realized that out of his deep sense of loyalty and love for his parents, he would simply have to accept it.
But that didn't mean he had to like it.
With a sigh, Ali let his gaze wander across the dance floor. He lifted his glass to take a sip, and his arm froze halfway as he spotted a familiar redhead on the dance floor.
Faith.
Ali turned, setting his glass down on the bar, so he could move closer, narrowing his gaze on her partner.
Aaron Josslyn. Ali's brows drew together in a concerned frown. The man drank far too much, and had a reputation for treating women roughly, but because of his parents' wealth, Aaron's behavior was commonly overlooked.
Ali skirted the dance floor so he could watch them.
His mouth went dry as the desert of his homeland as his gaze took Faith in.
While other women wore glittering jewels, her body was completely unadorned. Most of the gowns this evening were bright, vivid, low-cut or skintight, revealing much more than they attempted to conceal.
Among them, Faith stood out like a proud, elegant eagle among a yard of preening peacocks. Her gown was black, simple, sleeveless and high-necked. It drifted in layers to the floor, floating over that heavenly, lush, body in a way that would make a healthy
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