And by what it had blown in.
He shoved the stable door open, felt the soft and familiar give of pungent hay. It helped ease his mind. He made directly for Barakah’s stall.
But even as he led his stallion out, deep down, David knew what was really irking him. It was the fact his little girl had responded to a total stranger. She had spoken words that had flowed so naturally from her mouth you’d think she’d never been mute. She had quite simply come alive. Because of a stranger washed up with the wind and rain.
After all he had tried to do for Kamilah, after all this time, a mysterious woman had simply blown into their lives and made it happen in the blink of an eye. It should have been he who’d broken through his daughter’s shell. He needed that victory, dammit. He needed to know his daughter had forgiven him. Totally.
The woman had deprived him of that.
Resentment began to snake through him. But braided with the bitterness he felt toward Sahar was a thread of gratitude for her having cracked open Kamilah’s shell. And there was a third thread in that complicated braid. One he preferred not to think about. Because it forced him to face the fact that she had not only awakened his daughter, she had stirred something frightening and powerful in him. She’d made something come alive and burn, slow and deep inside his soul.
Trouble was, he didn’t want to feel this way. He didn’t want to feel this insidious burning in his gut, this low, raw longing for a woman with no memory. A woman who was surely going to leave Shendi, abandon Kamilah as soon as she figured out who she was.
David gritted his teeth.
It was best she left, sooner rather than later. Before Kamilah got too attached, he wanted her gone from his island.
David led Barakah into the storm-washed morning. In the distance the rising sun glimmered off the ocean surface, making it shine like hand-beaten copper. The color filled his mind. And as he mounted his stallion he could think only of how the color resembled Sahar’s long sun-kissed curls, the way the gold and copper shades contrasted with the startling green of her haunting eyes. And the way her skin had felt against his.
He swore softly in Arabic. He needed her gone all right. He couldn’t begin to feel these things for a woman who had another life, perhaps even another man. He wouldn’t allow Kamilah to be hurt.
With a spurt of anger, he kicked Barakah into action. He needed a tough workout. He needed to clear his head. And by the time he returned, he expected his technician to have restored communication on the island.
Then he would set to work, find out who the devil this woman was and where she had come from.
Then he’d send her right back where she belonged.
Chapter 3
Sahar listened as David Rashid’s angry footsteps faded to a distant echo. Confusion shrouded her brain. She lifted her hand to her forehead. Why in heavens did she know the meaning of the name he had just given her? Did she know Arabic? Or just the meanings behind Arabic names? And why did she feel honored, touched, by the name David had given her? Was it because of the raw look she’d glimpsed in his eyes as he’d spoken it? Or was she trying to read meaning where there was none?
Watson misread her confusion. “Your head hurting?”
“Uh…no. I…I’m just trying to remember.”
He smiled. “No need to try and rush the process. The body is a wonderful thing in the way it can heal—and protect itself—but you must give it time.”
Time. She didn’t have time. Why did she feel she was running out of time?
“I’ll come back once you’ve got some clothes on and had something to eat. We can do some more tests then, okay?”
She nodded, watched the doctor make for the door. “Dr. Watson,” she called out. He halted, turned around.
“About Kamilah…the mermaid thing?”
He hesitated. “The child hasn’t spoken a word in two years,” he said. “Not since the death of her mother.”
“What happened?”
“Aisha Rashid drowned in a boating accident not far off the coast of this island.” He smiled sadly. “David took a huge gamble coming back here. Returning to Shendi was a final bid to bring life back to his child. He’s done everything within his power to try to get Kamilah to speak again. Nothing worked until now—until you arrived.”
“Me?”
He nodded. “That’s right. Kamilah Rashid had not spoken in nearly two years—until she found you on the beach.”
“And she…she really thinks I’m a mermaid?”
“The fact that she thinks you’re a fantasy creature is key,” he said. “You’ve helped bridge the gap between her silent, private world and the real one.”