Part 37 (1/2)

their bedchamber and she discovered her watch no longer ran.

The dull gonging sound that had roused her repeated itself and Archer stirred.

She smoothed her hand over his back, thinking how wonderful it had been to sleep with his large warm body next to hers. Entwined with hers.

Her smile dimmed as her fingers encountered the not-so-smooth patches of skin scattered across his back. She now knew they were from his childhood. A fierce, protective anger washed through her. How dare they do that to a child?

She continued watching his back rise and fall as he slept, amazed at how strong her feelings for him were. As much as she'd grown to count on his steady presence, she couldn't deny this need she had to be there for him, too.

He chose that moment to stretch and groan a little.

”I think we're being summoned,” she whispered in his ear. But it was only when she went to shove the covers off them that he truly awoke and pulled them right back over them again. ”You can't be cold,” she said. ”Your body is like a furnace.”

He rolled over and she was surprised by just how alert his eyes were, considering his mumbling response just moments ago. She supposed deep sleep wasn't something he indulged in, not if he wanted to live to sleep again.

”I'm not sure how to answer a gong.”

He looked confused, then the deep sound vibrated the walls again. ”Wait here.

Do not leave this bed.” His tone was surprisingly fierce.

”What's wrong?”

”Nothing. Just don't leave the bed, okay?” He was already rolling to his side and reaching to the floor for his trousers, which he slid on as he walked to the door.

Back in bodyguard mode, she thought, trying not to worry. Instead she thought about last night, the way he'd tucked her beneath the covers, stroked her hair until she'd fallen asleep. He was a man of surprising integrity and a deeply ingrained sense of pride. She had no doubt that he cared for her. But he was also doing his job, keeping her safe. When this was over and done, she had no doubt he'd go on to his next job... and she'd go back home. The memories would be enough. Because they had to be.

Archer came back in the room just then and scooped her robe off the floor.

”Here, put this on.” He all but enveloped her as she came out of the bed and slid the robe on her arms. He was belting it before she was completely finished. She laughed. ”What's up?”

He looked into her eyes. ”The queen's guard is here. Catriona wants to see us.

Now.”

Talia's heart stopped for a second. How was it she'd forgotten, even for a second, why she was here in the first place? Then she was moving. ”Okay, just let me find my clothes.”

Archer grabbed her backpack from one of the lounges. ”Here. I a.s.sume you have some clothes in there, right?”

”Crumpled beyond repair, so I hope the queen isn't a stickler for dress.”

”Right now I think the queen will be perfectly happy with speed.”

Talia tried not to let Archer's urgency faze her. She rarely, if ever, saw him like this. He wasn't one to jump to do another's bidding. But the more she tried to focus, the more tangled her fingers became. The zipper on her pack refused to budge and her robe kept slipping off her shoulder; her hair was in her eyes and she finally ground her teeth in a silent scream of frustration.

And Archer was there, taking the pack from her. ”Hey, hey, no worries. We'll

get it done. I'm sorry I came back in a rush. I should have realized-”Somehow, hearing how nervous he was calmed her somewhat. ”It's okay. If you can get this zipper open, though, I'd be eternally grateful.” He flashed that grin of his and she felt her heart finally slow to a more manageable level.

”I'll hold you to that,” he said.

”Please do,” she said, feeling steadier now.

She slid out a rolled-up cotton T-s.h.i.+rt dress and shook it out. The wrinkles

weren't too bad, but for an audience with the queen... ”I don't exactly have a ball gown in my wardrobe.” She'd faced her yesterday just as casually dressed, but somehow this situation felt more formal.

”You'll be fine,” Archer said, hustling her into the bathroom and closing it behind them. He availed himself of a razor that, along with a full array of other products, lined the shelf above the double sinks.

”Guess they haven't made shaving obsolete, huh?”

Archer just grinned at her. ”They have. I prefer this.”

She was glad. There was something very s.e.xy about watching a man shave.

”Do we have time for a shower?”