Page 8

His blue eyes sparkled I raised an eyebrow. “A white knight dressed all in black?”

My rescuer shrugged one big shoulder. “Maybe I’m in disguise,” he said. Then, leaning in… “Just like you.”

The man pulled me against him, and I felt my pulse jump into the next range. There were people all around us, milling about. Talking and laughing as they held each other close, dancing beneath the stars.

“They made you, didn’t they?”

I pulled back to look at him. “What?”

God, his eyes were this most amazing blue-green. They reminded me of water I’d seen down in the Caribbean.

“They made you,” he said again. “They found you out.” Now those eyes darted back and forth, scanning over my shoulder. He looked disappointed. “Shit. How long ago?”

I turned and saw two groups of men, all in identical dark suits. They were coming down stairwells of the palace’s outer walls, their black shoes cracking against the ancient, crumbling stone.

And they were moving fast.

“Andrea,” he said sternly. He shook me like was breaking a trance. “How long?”

“Ten minutes,” I gasped. “Maybe twelve.” My eyes shot back to his. “Wait… How do you know my name?”

Rather than answer he spun away, dragging me along with him. For the second time tonight I let a complete stranger pull me by the hand, yanking me along as we threaded our way through the crowd.

Another group of dark-suited men flashed past us, heading in the direction we’d just come. Luckily, they didn’t stop.

“This way!”

My white-knight-dressed-in-black moved with purpose, watching everything intently. After another three suits rushed by, radios crackling, he glanced over his shoulder.

“Holy shit! Did you actually get him?”

I hesitated, then shook my head in answer. As shocked as I was by everything, I didn’t even have to ask what he meant.

“Damn.”

An ear-piercing scream rose from behind us, followed by the sound of glass breaking. I could hear people gasping. Conversations going abruptly frantic.

We’re gonna get caught…

My would-be rescuer pulled me harder, faster, until I’d reached the limits of what my heels could do. A minute later I was being dragged into a side room; some kind of alcove that might’ve been important seven-hundred years ago, but right now was being used for storage. He pulled the door three-quarters the way shut.

“Your shoes. Kick them off.”

I did it reluctantly, mourning the loss. The designer pumps had cost me almost a week’s pay.

“That red dress…” he said, looking me up and down. “It has to go too.”

“What?”

“They’re looking for it,” he hissed, peering out through a slit in the doorway. “What’s under it? Can you slip it off?”

“No, I can’t just slip it off!”

He looked around, frustrated. “Then… shit.”

The flagstones seemed to be growing colder beneath my stockinged feet. The hall was busy, a rush of activity. I backed up a little, and in the darkness bumped into something thick and soft… and familiar.

“Coats!”