Defending the Duchess. Rachelle McCalla
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“Someone knocked your plant over?”
She nodded solemnly. “And then whoever knocked it over set it back up again and put the dirt that had fallen out back under the leaves.”
“Cleaning lady?”
“No. The cleaning lady doesn’t work weekends, only Tuesday nights, and she doesn’t have keys to the offices—she just cleans the restrooms and public areas.”
Linus understood. “Too much sensitive client information inside the offices.”
“Exactly. After I noticed the plant, I got curious. My office door is always locked—sensitive client information, you know—so no one should have been in there. Nothing else looked out of place. But when I checked my file cabinet, the lock had been picked on one of the drawers.”
“How do you know?”
“The lock looked a little scraped up. And when I tugged on the handle, it came open, even though it should have been locked.”
Linus tried not to wince at the thought of Julia’s hand erasing any fingerprints that might have been on the handle—but then he reminded himself that any criminal fit to pick a lock was probably wearing gloves. Besides, there was a far more important question he needed to ask. “Was anything missing from the file cabinet?”
Her expression clouded immediately. “I scoured it folder by folder. I couldn’t find anything missing—not a single page. I called the police and they came to investigate, but I have to admit I felt foolish. They tried to take my case seriously, but other than someone reading confidential client information, I couldn’t imagine then what the motive might have been.”
“You couldn’t imagine it then,” Linus repeated softly, hoping she’d clarify.
She did. “The file drawer that was damaged contained the Seattle Electronics vs. Pendleton file.”
He swallowed as the significance sank in. “Where’s the file now?”
“In my office back in Seattle.”
Linus tried to put the pieces together, but he couldn’t make them fit. “The guy on the beach said he wanted your file.”
“That’s what I think he said,” Julia said, correcting him.
If the situation hadn’t been so critical, Linus might have laughed at her lawyerlike insistence on clarifying that point. But either way, he couldn’t see the sense in the man’s motive. If Pendleton wanted her file, why would he follow her to Lydia instead of staying in Seattle and taking the file while she was out of the country? Linus shook his head, unable to answer the many questions that were already piling up. Only one thing mattered for the moment, and that was Julia’s well-being.
“It’s late. I should get you back to your suite.”
Julia reached for him without protest, meeting his eyes just long enough to flash him an appreciative smile before turning her attention to her feet. As her small hand settled on his arm and his free arm wrapped around her waist, supporting her as he led her back to the hallway, a new fear hit him.
He liked the duchess.
Not that he’d ever disliked her. In fact, he’d held her in complete respect from the moment they’d first been introduced. But it was more than that, now. He’d fought for her. Held her—even held her while she cried.
This was new, dangerous territory, and he couldn’t have stumbled into it at a worse time.
Earlier that summer, the head of the royal guard had conspired against the royal family, nearly ousting them from the throne. Linus and his fellow loyal guardsmen had helped the Royal House of Lydia reclaim the throne, and the former head of the guard had died trying to stop them.
Jason had started his term as new head of the guard by thoroughly investigating the records and backgrounds of all the royal guards.
Including Linus.
Jason had discovered Linus’s juvenile criminal record, during the rebellious phase he’d put behind him so long ago. Jason understood that Linus wasn’t a threat to the crown, that he’d learned his lesson long ago and would never return to a life of petty crime, but the new head of the guard had also made one thing perfectly clear when he’d revealed to Linus what he’d learned.
If Linus ever did anything that would require an investigation, Jason would have to share the details of what he’d learned with the relevant authorities, including the royal family. Linus would most likely lose his job—especially if the revelation was prompted by a strike against him.
The solution was simple. Linus could not allow a single blemish to mar his record in the future, or he might lose everything he’d worked so hard for—his spot on the royal guard, and any shot he ever had at earning his grandfather’s respect. His grandpa Murati had bailed him out too many times when he was a teen, and inspired him to turn his life around. Linus wanted to make him proud by being the best royal guard he could be.
Which was why the surge of unfamiliar emotions he felt for Julia were as dangerous as the man he’d fought earlier on the beach. Right now, he was ready to track down anyone who might ever hurt her, to head back to Seattle if necessary to make certain she was safe. But was that the best plan, or were his growing feelings fueling his zeal?
Linus tucked his arm more securely around Julia as they made their way up the stairs to her room. She looked up at him briefly before settling her cheek against the crook of his shoulder.
It was a convenient spot for her to rest her head. It made climbing the stairs easier.
It also sent his heart soaring with emotions he didn’t dare explore.
Julia Miller was Queen Monica’s little sister, and soon to be a duchess of Lydia. Linus had no right to touch her, except insofar as she needed his help as she did right now. He’d need to get his head on straight and get his emotions under control.
He needed to be the perfect royal guard. Any missteps and he might find himself ousted from the guard. Who would keep Julia safe then?
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