Free The Sheik Who Loved Me by Loreth Anne White Page B

contact—” Lancaster grinned devilishly “—then, partner, we’re back in business.”

Chapter 5
    S oft yellow light seeped through the louvered shutters, throwing stripes of shadow onto the whitewashed walls. She blinked in confusion, then her heart sank like a stone. It was dawn. She was still on Shendi. She still had no memory of her identity.
    The thought paralyzed her for a moment. She lay staring at the bars of shadow on the wall. They only served to drive her situation home. She was trapped. Imprisoned inside her own damn head, on a remote island with a man who scorched her insides every time he turned his laser-blue eyes her way. A man who might be dangerous—if only she could remember why.
    A man who had named her Sahar.
    Frustration burned her eyes. How in hell did one deal with this? Then she thought of Kamilah.
    Kamilah understood something of the prison she was in. Maybe that’s why she felt she could identify with the child. If the little girl could cope, so could she. She closed her eyes, willed away the panic.
    Everyone had their own pain, she told herself. It was all relative. Besides, today she might learn who she was. Today word might come from the embassy in Khartoum. Things could start looking up. She had to stay positive.
    She shoved the covers back, sat up. She needed a run to clear her head. Maybe once she got blood pumping through her cells that darn gray matter would start functioning properly again.
    She pulled Dr. Watson’s clothes over the simple white underwear Fayha’ had given her, then slid her feet into Watson’s oversize thongs and slipped out of the heavy oak door into the long, cool hallway. She paused. Fayha’ had shown her how to navigate two of the palace wings yesterday, but it was still a confusing labyrinth to her. Like her mind.
    She turned to her left and wound her way through stone passageways and mosaic courtyards thick with the scent of jasmine and the hum of bees, searching for the archway that would lead her down to the strip of sugar-white beach she’d seen from the window yesterday.

    The phone on his desk beeped. David’s head jerked up from his papers. The sat system was operational. It beeped again. He stared at the phone. Watson perhaps? At six in the morning? Maybe he had an ID on Sahar.
    It beeped a third time. David’s muscles tensed inexplicably across his chest. And he realized a part of him wasn’t quite ready to find out who she was. He picked up the receiver. “Rashid.”
    “David, it’s Larry Markham. I’ve been trying to get hold of you for two days.”
    Relief slid through him at the sound of his lawyer’s chipper voice. “Markham. We had a storm take our system down. We’ve been incommunicado until now. Everything okay at the London office?”
    “All’s fine. I just wanted to let you know I’m going to fax through those papers you wanted prepared. As soon as you okay them, we can have Tariq sign them. It’ll put him in control of the second uranium mine and the last northern Azar oilfield.”
    “Thanks. Have you made the extra adjustments to the trust?”
    “Done. In the event of your death, Tariq will retain management of those mines, but he’ll remain under the control of the board you appointed. Your plans for Azar will stay in place no matter who takes the helm of Rashid International.”
    “Good. Send the papers. And, thanks, Markham.” He hung up and his fax machine started to hum. David stretched, cricking his back into place. He stared at his phone again. He should call Watson. He should find out what happened at the embassy. He checked his watch. No, too early. And right now he needed his ride.
    But as David strode toward the stable compound, he knew he was only postponing the inevitable.
    And he really didn’t want to think about why.

    Sahar slipped the thongs off her feet and stepped onto the sand. It was already warmed by the morning sun. She curled her toes into the fine grains, savoring the sensation. She shaded