The Sheikh's Little Wife.

CHAPTER EIGHT

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Evangeline ran for her life.

She didn't care that it was below zero degrees in the partial darkness; or that the tank top and pajama shorts left little to the imagination; or that her bare feet were being stabbed by the gravel of the front yard.

The need to get away from her possible death was so strong that she didn't realize she was heading right for the seven foot man in front of her.

Panicked beyond rationality, she didn't stop until she was crushing into him, heart pounding.

"Help me! They're trying to kill me!" She risked a glance behind her.

Expecting to find the two killers still heading for her or gone because she'd found help, she was struck to find them standing only a few feet away.

And . . . Were they laughing?

The makeshift masks only had cut outs for their eyes, but she watched their hunched over bodies rack with vibrations. Her suspicions were soon confirmed when she heard their mocking laughter.

Still horrified, she span against the body she'd crushed into and turned to face the two—judging by their lean and tall bodies—men.

"What is this? Is this some sort of game?" she spat, just as they pulled off their disguises.

Under the luminance of the moon, Evangeline realized they were only boys. Their facial bone structures still held the outline of baby fat; they looked a little over sixteen, contrary to their matured bodies.

The tallest of them who was sporting the beginning of a nasty shiner—thanks to her attempt at self defense—stopped to breathe before bowing his head. He elbowed his partner to stop and do the same.

"The two of you had better give me an excellent reason for this foolishness?"

As soon as she heard the rumble of that familiar deep voice, Evangeline jumped away from the man behind her and turned to face him.

Realization hit her. She'd ran right into the arms of the devil himself. A shudder coursed through her as she slowly stepped back, creating a safe distance between her and the danger.

It was the middle of the night, and she was clearly outnumbered. An ungodly sized genocidal maniac with the eyes of a panther, and two boys who looked leaner and meaner than the average man; this could very well be the moment she'd been dreading for the past few days.

She hoped her death would be quick and painless.

When she heard the pounding of feet on the ground, she span and relief immediately engulfed her. The two US troops who were supposed to be watching over her were making their way from the cottage beside hers, rifles in hand. They were as scantily dressed as her.

The blonde of the two stopped in front of her, while the other ginger-haired troop pointed his rifle towards the three figures, his hands visibly shaking.

"Are you alright?" Blondie said. She absently nodded.

Even though she was hyper aware of the towering sheikh who stood only a few feet behind her, Evangeline couldn't help her blush. It seemed she hadn't seen enough men in their boxer briefs in her life, otherwise she wouldn't have been so embarrassed.