The Sheik Who Loved Me(9)

“Your parents?”

The doctor was talking to her, but her mind was suddenly blank.

“Do you know who your mother is? Your father?” he pressed.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember something about her childhood…anything about her childhood. But there was nothing. Just a black hole. She sucked in a shaky breath. “No,” she said softly, opening her eyes, still trying not to look at David. “I don’t know who my parents are.”

“Can you recall where you went to school? To university? Your job?”

She shook her head.

The doctor was chewing on his cheek, his brow furrowed in thought. She could feel the heat of David’s concentrated gaze on her. It confounded her thinking further. Unsettled her. She needed clothes. A hairbrush. Maybe then she’d feel less vulnerable.

“Do you remember where you grew up?” This time the question came from David.

She sucked in a breath and turned slowly to look into his face. She felt a flush rise in her cheeks again the instant his eyes caught hers. She fought the warming sensation, forced herself to scrutinize his features, to find a match in her brain. Why did she think he had anything to do with nuclear weapons? What did uranium have to do with anything at all? Where in heavens had 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.”