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My wrist is suddenly seized in a grip of iron, right below the Bakelite bangle I’ down at me

"Did you not hear the prince?" he asks "We insist that you allow us to escort you"

The next thing I know, the prince’s bodyguard is pulling me forcibly toward the car

"Hamad," the prince says, followed by a stream of words in Arabic His tone sounds alarmed--for my welfare, I hope

But he could be alar ht, with soat us curiously, no doubt wondering why the dark-haired guy in the suit and shoulder holster is trying to drag the nice blond lady into his car

I don’t want to have to break out s aith the president’s office, I’ll bet, if I jam an elbow into Hamad’s solar plexus or rakea high heel into the small bones of his foot isn’t really an option, but I can still deliver a solid kick to one of his shins According to Cooper (who’s been schooling me), this is supposed to be one of the most painful blows you can deliver to an opponent, aside frohters learn to guard against

Before I have a chance to do any of these things, however, an extrehtily welcome--sound fills ive a single whoop before I findentle hand to ht?" he asks, concerned

No, of course I’? is what I want to say, but I don’t get a chance (and probably wouldn’t have said, anyway), since a beige Crown Victoria with a single flashing light on the dashboard pulls up in front of the Escalade, and an older ray hair--and an equally thick gray ar dangling fro people, as usual, Wells?"

It’s my old friend fro like that," I rip I head instinctively toward the Vic,me toward the car What is with these people? "I’ Miss Wells a ride hoot a bit carried away"

"Is that what you call it?"

Detective Canavan is wearing aviator-style sunglasses, the lensesit iy gray eyebrows are raised in skepticisold-rimmed frames, however

"You knohere Miss Wells lives?" Canavan asks

"Well, no," the prince ad to spare her a train ride"

"A train ride," Detective Canavan says drily "Of course"