Chapter 15
“Your highness.”
Raschid jerked awake, hands grabbing the pistol from under the pillow. Nothing short of armageddon would prompt his guards to disturb his slumber. He rolled over and arose and came nose to nose with Santee’s aloof guard dog, JW. Hot agitated breaths panted in his face.
Heads bowed, anticipating reprisals, the guard said, “The Am— the woman’s dog came and growled at the door. At us.”
Raschid yanked on a black silken robe over his lean nakedness. “You did well to awaken me.”
JW raced to the doorway and whined impatiently. He watched over his shoulder to make sure that Raschid was following as he trotted to the stairway, toenails clattering as he went down.
There had been quite a controversy over where Santee would sleep. Ruarke lobbied for his room. On the
