High Tide by Jude Deveraux

think the two most-wanted people in America can walk into a grocery, I want to hear about it.” Then he looked her up and down, all six feet of her. “You especially are easily recognizable.”
    Fiona knew that there was truth in his words, for all that he made her feel as though her height were a physical defect.She bit her tongue to keep from saying that all women couldn’t be overdeveloped dwarfs such as he seemed to like. Now was the time to think with her head and not her emotions.
    â€œAre you going to pack?” Ace snapped at her. Ever since he’d seen the TV show that had destroyed his theory that lack of motive would clear them, he’d been a monster.
    â€œI was thinking,” she said softly. “Two years ago Kimberly was in such a jam that she had to use a disguise to get herself out. She had to wear a fake mustache and men’s clothes so she wouldn’t be recognized.”
    â€œWhat kind of friends do you have?” he asked.
    She ignored his question as she looked toward the chest of drawers across from the bed. After a moment’s searching she withdrew a black rayon scarf that was the size of a small tablecloth.
    â€œNow what?” he snapped. “We don’t have time—”
    He broke off when he saw Fiona drape the scarf over her head, then pull it across her face. She was the picture of a veiled Muslim woman.
    Ace stood there blinking for a few moments, then disappeared into the bathroom, reappeared with a large container of bronzing gel and started smearing the lotion on his face and hands. “You’re not stupid, are you?” he said softly, and Fiona was glad the veiling hid the enormous grin on her face. She didn’t know when a compliment had pleased her more.
    After that Ace took over. Since the scarf could only be made to cover the upper half of her and they had no long black skirt, her trousers and old sneakers showed below. “We’ll take my friend’s car,” he said as he went into thekitchen, Fiona behind him. He started pulling supplies out of the cupboards and putting them into paper bags. “We’ll take what we can from here because we’ll need to conserve all our money. How much do you have with you?” He began emptying a broom closet of cleaning supplies.
    Incongruously, as she watched him, she thought, Wherever we’re going doesn’t have maid service. “About fifty dollars. I was going to use my NYCE card down here, but I never had a chance.”
    â€œGreat. I have about twenty for the same reason. It’ll have to last us for”—he glanced up at her, then back down—“for as long as we can hold out. Are you ready?”
    â€œI guess so,” she said, but instead of moving, she sat down on a barstool. “I have to admit that I’m—”
    She was going to say that she was frightened, but Ace didn’t give her a chance. Instead, he put his hand behind her head and gave her a hard, hard kiss. It wasn’t a kiss of passion. It was a kiss of courage, and it told her that he was just as afraid as she was but that it would be better if neither of them actually said the word.
    It worked. When Ace moved away, he stood there looking at her, and she knew that he was again asking her to decide what she wanted to do. He wasn’t forcing her into this; he was letting her make up her mind of her own free will.
    Standing, she put her shoulders back and took a deep breath. “Ready when you are, sahib.”
    Ace laughed. “I think that’s Hindi, not Arabic.”
    â€œWhatever. Let’s go.”
    Their disguise worked. In the garage, Ace took the dark blue Chevrolet of the house’s owner and left the Jeep behind.Fiona draped the black scarf over her upper half and used a pin she’d found in the bathroom to hold the veil in place.
    As soon as they pulled out of the garage, Ace said, “Damn! I meant to put on more of that bronzing