I Married a Sheik by Sharon De Vita Page A

doctors had told her she had done, been. So she'd taken a new name, started a new life.
    But for years she had a feeling, a strong feeling that she'd had a child—children—a husband, someone who had been her other half.
    But it wasn't who the doctors told her she was.
    Why couldn't she remember?
    Why couldn't she forget?
    She may not have had any memories to recall, but she had something far stronger and more important: a feeling in her heart.
    The bond she felt, the sense of deep loss she felt for her child—the little freckle-faced child with the mop of red hair had never dimmed—never went away. It was as if they were somehow still connected by love.
    Louise turned away from her reflection, wiping down her face and neck with the cool rag.
    She longed for a shower. Something to wash away the memories of the terror, the feelings of evil so she'd feel clean once again, but she didn't have enough energy left to even lift her arm to turn on the water. It would have to wait.
    Stumbling back to her room, she began to shiver uncontrollably. Grabbing the comforter from the bottom of the bed, she wrapped it tightly around her panic-racked body, then climbed back into bed.
    Her hands were still trembling as she reached up to turn on the bedside lamp. Soft light flooded the small, cozy room and she took a slow, deep breath, looking at the spilled bottle of pills on the floor, wondering for a moment how they had gotten there.
    She tugged the comforter up higher, then glanced toward her bedroom window that overlooked her beautiful garden.
    There would be no more sleep for her tonight. She couldn't risk it, for she knew the moment she closed her eyes, she'd see the child again, her daughter, and the terror, the fear, the panic of helplessness would return.
    So she'd simply wait for dawn to creep over the horizon. Wait and worry and pray that one day she'd remember who she really was, where her daughter was.
    Pray that somehow, some way her child, her daughter, would be safe.
    At least for this night.

Five
    San Diego
    F aith had been avoiding him for days.
    Ali stood in the doorway of the sprawling room that held the entire systems operations for El-Etra Investments, quietly watching Faith, whose back was to him.
    He glanced around the unfamiliar room, at a loss to understand what all the humming machines were. He shifted his attention back to Faith, absently loosening his tie against the warmth in the room.
    Down here, in the bowels of the basement, even in the coolness of the late afternoon, it was warmer than the rest of the building. He'd talk to his building manager about it; there was no need for anyone to be uncomfortable while they worked.
    "Faith?" He stepped into the room, amazed at her concentration. If she realized he was there, she gave no sign of it. Her eyes were focused on the computer screen in front of her, while her fingers flew over the keyboard.
    Her shoulders were hunched forward, and he could see the line of tension in her back.
    Quietly, he watched her for a moment, stunned anew at the impact she'd had on him. In spite of his hectic schedule, and the fact that he had not seen her in days, he found himself thinking of her several times during the day, or even in the darkness of the night.
    Or he'd remember something she'd said, and find himself laughing out loud at the oddest moments. It happened just this morning during a meeting, causing him not just a little embarrassment, but some very strange looks indeed.
    She was a most unusual woman, he decided, not his normal type, but a fascinating woman no less.
    But judging from their last rather contentious encounter, her declaration that he would never have her, and the fact that he hadn't laid eyes on her in several days, apparently she had other ideas.
    He walked farther into the room, stopping nearly beside her, but still she didn't even glance at him.
    "Faith?" Smiling, he reached out and skimmed a finger down one errant curl, startling her.
    She jumped in her