The Sheik's Safety. Dana Marton

for me.”

      “I’m here to help you.” She stood, obsidian eyes flashing. “You should be happy.”

      “I did not ask for help.”

      “Look, I’m here anyway. Maybe I can help, maybe I can’t. What is it going to hurt to let me hang around?”

      Plenty, he thought. It would hurt plenty. He could not afford to be distracted now. And he didn’t need another person to feel responsible for. He didn’t need to be thinking about kissing her again, wanting it so much he had a hard time focusing on anything else, like explaining to her how impossible her long-term presence would be here.

      “I’m going to check the perimeter of the camp.” She moved toward the tent flap. “I have to start thinking about how to make it more secure, ASAP. Your guys are going to be okay with me walking around, right?”

      She was going to secure his camp. The thought was as laughable as exasperating. An affront, really, but he decided not to take offense. He nodded and followed her out, instead of forbidding her to leave. Because he couldn’t be sure if they stayed inside he wouldn’t again taste her lips. And he wasn’t sure if he could stop there.

      He shook off the weakness. He could not afford to let her foreign beauty get to him. Not now. Not ever. Not this woman.

      She had no place in his life, not on the professional level and certainly not on the personal. She was of a different people. There could never be any understanding between them. He had too many principles to take her as his mistress and to consider her as more was unthinkable. The only choice open to him was to ignore whatever insane attraction existed between them.