The Sheik Who Loved Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

that thought come from? She tried to dig it out of her memory. But it was gone, a wisp of smoke in the breeze. Had she fabricated the notion? Maybe it had been born of a confusing nightmare she’d had as she’d slept in his bed. She didn’t trust anything about her mind right now. Or her body. And that scared the hell out of her. She didn’t want to show just how frightened she was.
    “This is ridiculous,” she said. “If I can remember the Beatles, if I can recall historical events, why don’t I know how I came about that information? Why don’t I know where I went to school? Why don’t I know who the hell I am? It just doesn’t make sense.” She felt tears burn behind her eyelids, which only frustrated her more.
    “Give it time,” Dr. Watson said. “I’ll run a few more tests later. Meanwhile,” he said, clipping his black bag shut, “try to relax. No use worrying about what you don’t know, now, is there?”
    Oh, yes, there was. She angrily sniffed back the thick emotion rising in her chest.
    “You’re British,” David offered, his voice a little softer.
    “Is that a question?” she snapped.
    The hint of a smile tugged at his finely sculpted mouth. It only served to irk her further. Her belligerence, given her absolute vulnerability at the moment, obviously amused the man.
    “It’s a suggestion,” he offered. “Your accent is English. You sound like you’re from the U.K. Maybe you came on a diving holiday? Not many tourists come to the Sudanese region otherwise. Unless of course you live in the area. Or you’re working here, with an aid organization, maybe?”
    “ Those are questions.” And they made her deeply uneasy.
    “Does any of it seem even remotely familiar?” he asked, a twinkle in the indigo of his eyes.
    She closed her eyes, shutting him out. “No.”
    “Well…do you dive?”
    Her eyes snapped open. “I don’t know!”
    “You do know where the Red Sea is?”
    “Of course I know where the Red Sea is. I’m not brain dead. I just can’t remember who I am.” Frustration clipped her words.
    David opened his mouth to speak. But Watson’s hand restrained him.
    “It’s perfectly normal to feel frustrated,” said the doctor, eyeing first David, then her. “Things will probably start coming back as you begin to feel better. For starters, you could probably do with something to eat.”
    God bless the doctor.
    “Of course,” said David. “Forgive me. I’ll get Fayha’, my housekeeper, to bring you some breakfast. Anything in particular you like?”
    “I…I…” She racked her brain. “Dammit, I don’t know!” She struggled into a sitting position, clutching on to her sheet.
    Something shifted suddenly in David’s eyes. He was watching how her hands clutched the sheet over her breasts. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice deeper, the Arabic accent suddenly stronger. “We’ll find out who you are. We’ll put word out as soon as we have communication up and running again. We’ll contact the embassies in the region and the Sudanese Ministry of Interior. You can’t get into this part of the world without a visa, and you have to register with authorities once you arrive. If you came to Shendi from Sudan, there’ll be a record. We’ll also put word out in Saudi Arabia and Egypt in case you were on a dive trip that originated from one of those countries. Someone will know who you are.”
    “Great,” she muttered. “I sure as hell hope so.”
    “And once you’ve eaten,” said Dr. Watson, “I’ll come back and run a few more simple tests. In the meantime,” his eyes shifted to David, “I need to pack for Khartoum. I have to leave this afternoon if we’re going to get those medical supplies to the Ba’ar mine before the end of the week.”
    David nodded and Watson made for the door.
    She panicked. The doctor was going to leave her alone with him.
    “Are you a neurologist?” She called after Watson in an unfocused attempt to keep him in the room.
    The