Page 29 of The Queen’s Bodyguard

“Oh, shut up,” said Theora, pressing her hands against his chest to get away.

“Come on, you’re not even trying.” He grabbed her forearms to keep her still. “Physical contact can’t be scarier than war.”

“It’s not,” she snapped, her blush crawling to her ears. He seemed to frustrate her easily, but this time he thought it might’ve been her pride getting in the way more than anything.

“Okay, then.” He released her, moving his arms out of her way. “If it makes it easier, just imagine I’m a big pillow. You hug your pillow at night. Same thing.”

“I hug my pillow at night?”

Argos grinned, which seemed to fluster her even more.

Theora hesitated, but before he could ask her what the problem was, she slowly lowered herself back down onto his chest. This time he didn’t offer any encouragement or teasing jabs. He just kept his breath even so that hers would follow suit. As stubborn as Theora was, he had waited on prey longer than this—his patience was stronger than her will.

And, ever so slowly, her breath relaxed. Her pulse calmed. Her muscles, even—as light as she was, he could feel her weight settle on him as she finally let go. Perhaps she was ready to accept his touch now, but part of him didn’t want to push it and ruin a nice thing. Because…he’d missed this. A warm body lying against him. Someone to take care of and protect.

He could miss those things without disrespecting the memory of his wife, couldn’t he? After all, he wasn’t asking for her back. But there was no missing the sensations without remembering the woman attached to them…and actually, there was something really lovely about that.

Izzi had been more weighty than Theora, which he remembered had made it so much easier to fall asleep at night, with her on his chest like this. She certainly hadn’t argued half as much as Theora—but then, Argos had been claimed willingly the first time around. Perhaps if he had been as bitter then as he was now, he would’ve made more trouble for her.

Don’t let your hate for the enemy mar her memory.

Argos took a deep breath, turning his attention back to the woman lying against him, and, after a moment of listening to her breath, he realized she’d fallen asleep. He grinned. Well, this was one way to show she was comfortable with him.

Chapter 7

Theora

Theora jolted awake, nearly falling off the sofa. Worse, nearly falling off the man she was lying on top of.

“It’s okay,” he said, his strong hands holding her steady. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not on you.” She scrambled away and moved to the opposite side of the sofa. She rubbed her arms, hoping to rid herself of the strange desire to be held by him again. “How long was I sleeping?”

“Um…” He checked his watch. “Forty-five minutes.”

“Sovereign. What an utter waste of an evening.”

They were quiet for a long moment. Theora desperately wished she had just stayed asleep while she could. Because, well…the evening was that much shorter now. That much closer to tomorrow, when she’d have to meet her enemy face-to-face.

“I wish I knew what was coming,” she found herself saying.

“I don’t need to know what’s coming to protect you,” Argos replied, and she should’ve been relieved by how confident he sounded. He was an experienced Warrior, after all.

“It’s just nerves talking,” she said, hoping saying it aloud would truly convince her. “Everything will be fine.”

“Of course it will. I’ll be right there with you.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel any better.”

“Listen, Theora, you could always put a lamp in a jacket and bring it in my place.”

This time his teasing monotone was well timed enough that it made her break into an actual smile. And, as strange as it felt to admit to herself, her name sounded beautiful coming from his lips. He said it with such confidence, with zero guile behind it. She was used to hearing it come from the lying mouths of politicians, when there was nothing but selfish intent, just an attempt to gain her favor, to manipulate her into believing they were anything remotely similar to friends.

Maybe that’s why it felt different when Argos said her name, even if it wasn’t something she would ever willingly admit. Because, when he said it, it didn’t sound like he was trying to siphon something of hers that wasn’t his to take.

Argos sat up, planting both feet on the floor. “You really need to learn how to relax,” he said, pushing dark hair away from his forehead.

Theora found herself watching that movement, as if enchanted by it, then quickly shook her head to ward off any notion of foolishness. Comfortable with him or not, she still had to remain in control of her emotions.