The Sheik's Safety by Dana Marton Page A

She tucked her pistol into her belt, flung the guard’s rifle on her shoulder, handed Saeed the extra gun. He hid it under the abaya that unfortunately came only to midcalf, and revealed his black suit pants and shoes that obviously belonged to a man. Still, it was the middle of the night. Not many were awake, and she hoped those who were wouldn’t be looking too closely.
    â€œWe gotta go.” She turned, ready to make a run for it, but he caught her by the arm.
    â€œDara,” he said, then crushed her to him and kissed the soul out of her.
    And she kissed him back as fiercely as she felt, angry with him for having gone out alone, angry at herself for not knowing better and letting her guard down in more ways than one. And then the anger and fear melted away, and there was nothing but sweet pleasure and the relief that he was alive and she was back in his arms once again.
    She smiled when he let her go, and fastened the veil and headscarf in place to cover his face. He gave her a we-will-never-speak-of-this-once-it’s-over look, and strode out of the room, pulling her behind him. And it occurred to her how annoyed she used to be when in movies the hero and heroine stopped to come together in a heated kiss in the middle of a chase scene, when every second might mean the difference between life and death. And she wanted to stop him and kiss him again. Because if this was it, if they were going to get nailed on the way out, she wanted to take at least that much with her.
    He went up, but in a different direction than she’d come. She followed him, figuring he knew the palace better than she did. Her path of entry wouldn’t have worked for a way out anyway. The two of them scaling the garage wall would be bound to draw the guards’ attention.
    They were in the servants’ quarters—small rooms, narrow hallways, not nearly as neat as the rest of the palace. The few who were awake and about paid little attention to the young soldier and the tall woman he escorted.
    They reached the door he was apparently looking for. He shot off the lock with a loud bang that raised some shouts behind them. They didn’t stick around to see whom they woke, but spilled out into the street.
    Straight into the night patrol.

Chapter Six
    Saeed heard Dara swear as he blocked her and shot at the men. But if he had hoped she would take the hint and stay safe, he was mistaken. She pushed around him and took out her share of the patrol. The fight was over in seconds.
    He ripped the veil and burka from his head as he ran between the bodies out to the street, looking back as much as forward, making sure she was okay.
    â€œYou should think about letting me do my job now and then.” She caught up with him finally. “Umbarak is on the other side by the east gate. He probably heard the gunfire.”
    â€œWe don’t have time to wait for him.”
    Few cars were on the street at this hour of the night. He stepped in front of a large luxury sedan and pointed his gun at the driver as more guards poured out of the palace, letting some bullets fly now.
    Saeed banged his palm on the hood of the carwhen it screeched to a halt in front of him, nearly knocking him over. Then he was at the driver’s door, pulling the man out. Dara was already in the passenger seat returning fire by the time he got in. And they were off, flying down the four-lane boulevard named after his legendary great-grandfather, about a dozen royal guards pursuing them.
    The good news was that traffic was sparse, making driving easier. The bad news was that the royal guards were shooting as freely as if they were in the middle of the desert, not caring whom or what they hit. And yet he had no choice but to lead them through a densely populated area, the fastest way out of the city.
    Dara knelt on her seat, firing back at the guards.
    â€œWe cannot harm the people.”
    She threw him an offended look. “I hit what I aim at.”
    He