The Sheik Who Loved Me by Loreth Anne White

fist around a pencil. It snapped sharply. Startled, he looked down at the broken thing in his hand. The connection between them had snapped just like that, the second he’d seen Kamilah in the distance.
    And as much as he wanted Sahar, the very last thing he wanted to do was hurt his child. Because when the time came for Sahar to leave, it would kill them both.
    He had to stop this. It was too much of a gamble. She could leave anyday. Any minute. It could happen the instant the phone on his desk rang.
    David rubbed his brow fiercely, then reached for the phone—and stopped himself. Surely Watson would ring if he had news. Damn. He couldn’t even pick up the bloody phone to see if they had an ID on her yet. He wanted her to be Sahar. Not someone else.
    He slammed the pencil shards onto his desk, turned to his computer, forced his mind to function and began to review the latest production report from the Azar uranium mine.
    Things were looking good. Britain and France were snapping up all the yellowcake he could produce. He started to scan the numbers. But they blurred, her image once again shimmering in his mind.
    He smashed his hand onto the desk. He couldn’t take this. She lingered in his senses like opium. He needed to wipe his mind clean, but it was impossible.
    He sat back in his leather chair, closed his eyes. And once again he could feel her long, sun-browned legs around him, the wind in his hair, the movement of Barakah under them.
    She was so different from Aisha.
    Aisha had been soft and dark, sweet and gentle, raised with a strong religious influence. She’d been bright, sensitive, creative. A wonderful advisor and a friend. Yet she’d deferred everything to him with a soft feminine subservience that had boosted his male ego. She’d stood by his side with a quiet luminescent beauty at social functions in London society. She’d carried herself with grace, walking the strange cultural lines of Azarian tradition. She’d been a perfect asset. A gentle lover. A wonderful mother. He never thought he could want anything more.
    Until Sahar. This was a shock to his system. She challenged him in a way Aisha never had. She matched him. Her femininity was as strong as it was sensual. Her grace was that of a lioness. Fluid. Powerful. Proud.
    And dangerous.
    Because she’d snared something within him, made him lose focus. David Rashid never lost focus. Doing so meant making mistakes.
    He gritted his teeth, jerked up in his chair, grabbed the phone and punched in Watson’s number. The doctor answered on the second ring.
    “Watson, any news?”
    “Rashid, I was just about to call you.”
    David’s stomach tightened. “You have word?”
    “Not a bloody thing. It’s too weird. The British ambassador here even volunteered to check in with the other embassies in the region for us, but so far, nothing. She’s a complete mystery.”
    A quirky mix of relief and anticipation rippled through him. “The ambassador found nothing whatsoever?” he asked, just to be sure.
    “Nope. It’s the darnedest thing. No one has ever heard of this woman. No one has reported her missing. There’s been zip from the dive operators, the embassies, the Ministry of Interior, the airlines. Nothing from the Interpol databases. It’s like she never officially set foot in Sudanese territory.”
    “You mean she’s un officially in the country?”
    “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?”
    “Maybe she came down from Egypt on one of their dive tours.”
    “That’s just it, David. The ambassador says his staff has checked everything, even the embassies up there. It’s like she doesn’t exist.”
    A dark thrill quirked through him. He couldn’t begin to define it. Didn’t want to.
    “Women like her don’t go unnoticed, Rashid.” The doctor chuckled. “Maybe there is something to Kamilah’s mermaid theory.”
    “Yeah. Right.” She was an enigma all right.
    “Or…” The doctor hesitated. “Maybe there’s something else