LITMIR.BIZ

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trying again to stand on her own.

      A whimper escaped her lips.

      “You can lean on me,” he offered. They’d lingered too long. He had yet to hear a report of capture, and that wasn’t a good thing. They needed to get moving. If Julia’s attacker decided to circle around to strike again, he could have easily caught up to them by now, even going out of his way. For all they knew, the man might have accomplices.

      “You’re exhausted.” She met his eyes. Tears still pooled among her lashes.

      Linus refused to think about how pretty she looked. “Let me help you. If I need to, I will carry you all the way to the hospital.”

      Her face puckered and she looked as if she was about to cry. “You don’t need to do that. I can walk.” She straightened and forced herself to take a step.

      Her injured leg gave way beneath her.

      Linus got under her arm in time to prop her up. The woman was too independent for her own good. For her safety, he had to get her off the beach quickly.

      Even if it made her cry.

      “Come on. Lean on me.”

      “I hate to be a burden.”

      “It’s that or I carry you.” To his relief, she relented to leaning heavily against him, half hopping as they made their way toward the boardwalk that led to the marina. From there, they could connect with the sidewalk along the main boulevard.

      They made it a few more steps before the duchess sniffled.

      “Are we hurting your leg? We can stop.”

      “My leg is fine.” Her words came out in a strained whisper.

      The shock of her attack was taking its toll on her. And her leg wasn’t fine—he could feel her shudder in pain with every step she took.

      “Please let me carry you again,” he requested, unwilling to pluck her up against her will, especially after the way her attacker had manhandled her. He’d only provoke more tears that way. “I’ll get you back to your sister.”

      “No!”

      Her sudden insistence surprised him, and he stopped walking long enough to look her full in the face. “Your sister, Queen Monica—”

      “Don’t tell Monica what happened.”

      “She’ll have to know.”

      “Please.” Julia’s grip tightened around his waist, and her free hand clutched his wrist. “She’s been through too much lately. She looked so tired today. I don’t want her to worry.”

      “The royal guard was dispatched to look for your attacker. Your leg is injured.”

      The duchess sucked in a trembling breath. Given his proximity propping her up, Linus felt it ripple through her. She clearly felt strongly about the issue. “Don’t let on to Monica that anything’s happened just yet. There has to be some way around it. I came to Lydia to support her, not to give her more to worry about. We can’t put any more stress on her. She already looks so haggard.”

      Linus saw the queen on a regular basis, and while he wouldn’t have chosen the word haggard to describe either of the lovely Miller sisters, he had to acknowledge that Queen Monica hadn’t been her usual radiant self for the past few weeks. “What’s been upsetting her? Her kidnapping was over two months ago. Is it post-traumatic stress?”

      “I don’t know.” Julia let out a long breath. She sounded relieved that Linus was taking her request seriously. “But I’ve never seen her look this way and it worries me. She’s had so many sudden changes—not just the kidnapping and fighting to get her son back—but becoming queen, moving halfway around the world. I thought my visit would give me a chance to help her work through all she’s been through, but if she hears what happened tonight it will only make it worse.”

      The duchess had a point. Linus couldn’t deny it. He didn’t want to upset the queen further—part of his mission as a member of the royal guard was to protect the royal family, not just physically, but from all harm.

      That meant worry and stress, as well. It was the job of the royal guard to worry about safety so that the members of the royal family could focus on their duties without fear. If the queen’s haggard appearance came from feeling unsafe, that meant the guards weren’t doing their jobs. Linus took that personally.

      “Okay,” he relented, “I’ll see what I can do for tonight at least. Right now we’ve got to get you back to safety. We’ve wasted too much time. Can I carry you?” He’d rested enough with all their talking that he figured he could handle the exertion again.

      Julia looked up at him with her warm brown eyes, and Linus felt that underlying current he’d sensed before, an emotional charge he couldn’t yet identify. Did she suspect that he felt a sense of attraction to her? He had no intention of acting on it, but perhaps she didn’t realize that. Or had he offended her in some way? That might explain why she’d run off without a guard.

      She still leaned slightly on his arm, unable to put any weight on her injured leg. As Linus adjusted his arm to better support her, he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking.

      * * *

      The guard had been more than patient with her. Julia realized that. He was also trying his best to be appropriate and respectful, in spite of the circumstances. Instead of hoisting her over his shoulder and trundling her off to the palace, he’d patiently listened to her fears, and even agreed to try not to say anything to Monica yet.

      For that, Julia knew she was indebted to him.

      On top of that, the man had taken quite a bashing in his fight with her attacker. A trickle of blood leaked from his left eyebrow—that would be a black eye by morning—and his lower lip looked puffy. She examined it in the moonlight perhaps a few seconds too long before she turned her gaze away.

      Linus had taken quite a beating on her behalf.

      It wouldn’t be fair to cause any more trouble. The way he spoke of safety and the need to return her promptly to the palace, she knew he feared what could happen if they lingered near the beach any longer. And in spite of her best efforts, Julia’s hobbling was painfully slow. So even though she hated being a burden, Julia agreed to let him carry her again.

      He cradled her head against his shoulder as he made his way uphill from the beach to the palace. It was a steep climb, enough to make anyone feel winded, even if they weren’t carrying a cumbersome load.

      “Is there anything I can do to make it easier?” Julia asked, still feeling guilty after all Linus had done for her.

      “If you could relax,” Linus strained, “that would help. When you sit so stiff—” he sucked in two more breaths and glanced around, his dark eyes narrowed as he scanned the storefronts and alleyways “—it makes it harder to carry you.”

      “Oh.” Julia hadn’t thought of that. She wasn’t used to being carried and realized she’d been straining ever-so-slightly as though to keep a small distance between them.

      It was foolish to resist leaning on him. She was only making things more difficult for him. Reluctantly, she pressed her cheek against his shoulder and closed her eyes to the embarrassment she felt. She could feel the surging beat of his heart as he strained to move her uphill as quickly as possible. She let out an anxious breath and focused on breathing in slowly.

      Over the scent of the sea and the closed shops and eateries they now passed, Julia caught a whiff of manly scent—something wild and strong and oddly soothing. She breathed in again, more slowly this time and felt her fears ebb away. She was in good hands. Linus was watching out for her. Whatever was going on, whoever had attacked her, Linus and his fellow guards would sort it out. The guards had kept the Lydian royal family safe against awful foes earlier that summer.

      They’d see her through this mess, too.

      “Almost

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