Protecting the Princess. Rachelle McCallaЧитать онлайн книгу.
dry sand, just beyond the lapping water.
He held her just long enough for her to gain steady footing, but she still felt herself flush from the contact. She knew he was only being polite, but he’d always been a handsome man who’d somehow grown more attractive while she’d been ignoring him.
“Are you all right?” he whispered before he let her go.
She looked into his face, but with the high rocky walls blocking the low sun, she could make out neither honor nor deceit in his expression. “Fine.” Her legs felt rubbery after the dipping boat ride. When she tried to take a step back, away from him, her knees dipped and she wobbled, flinging her arms wide in an attempt to catch herself.
“Your Highness!” Kirk’s strong hands steadied her waist, keeping her upright, while she overcorrected her careening dip and smashed back into his chest. “Careful, now.” The words rumbled below her ear.
She caught a note of something in the undercurrent of his comforting words, and she kept her cheek pressed against him as she tried to think what it was. In contrast to the fear and grief she’d felt all evening, Kirk’s undertone carried something like warmth or affection, maybe even longing.
Longing?
No, that couldn’t be it. “I’m fine now.” She pulled away from him and stood on her own two feet.
“This way.” He turned and took off up a curving path as though in a hurry to leave their close brush behind.
Still barefoot after having removed her high heels on the boat, Stasi picked her way up the soft sand after him. By the time the sandy path blended into rocks, Kirk was far ahead of her.
The rocks felt sharp against her unaccustomed feet, and though she lifted her long skirt up to her knees, she could hardly see anything of the path in the darkness. Trying to gauge how much farther she had to go, she looked ahead just in time to see Kirk disappear around a bend in the path.
Loneliness washed its heavy hand over her, and she bowed under its weight. Uncertain whether or not the reverberations of her voice would send rocks crashing down, she called out quietly, “Kirk?”
The silence felt a little too hollow and the darkness too deeply shadowed in this forgotten place where the cliffs blocked the setting sun. The fear and grief she’d been battling all evening began to get the upper hand again, and she tried to sniff back her tears.
Then Kirk leaped back into sight in front of her. “Yes?”
Her sense of relief at his reappearance surprised her with its intensity. Had she been that afraid of being alone? Or was she simply that glad to see him again? She fumbled for words. “My feet.” She pointed her naked toes toward him. “The rocks—”
Without another word he scooped her into his arms, cradling her like an infant in her evening gown, and clambered up the path, carrying her as though she didn’t weigh a thing.
She tried not to think too much about how being in his arms made her feel, but there was that warmth she’d felt a moment ago. Kirk was so strong and capable—one of the strongest members of the royal guard, with a promising future ahead of him before he’d tarnished his reputation with a murder trial.
Still, he was winsome and charismatic. It would be all too easy to trust him. And after everything that had happened, she knew she was emotionally vulnerable. Surely the sudden yearning she felt to place her head on his shoulder had nothing to do with any real feelings between them. It was merely a result of the monumentally trying events of the evening.
Kirk traveled easily up the path, and moments later a limestone tower loomed ahead, cast in a golden glow by the light of the sinking sun. Without hesitating, Kirk swept her over the threshold, through an arched doorway into a wide stone room.
THREE
The last of the sunlight blocked by four walls and a ceiling, Stasi blinked against the darkness and tightened her grip on Kirk’s shoulders. “Where are we?”
“Through here is the queen’s chamber. Thad and I found it all on the map. There are stairs up to the tower—it’s got a glorious view all the way to Sardis. But right now I’m taking you to where Thaddeus stayed.”
At the mention of her brother’s name, Stasi was reminded of all the unanswered questions regarding his disappearance. “When did Thad stay here?”
“Six years ago.” Kirk carried her into a smaller room and stopped.
“Before he—?” She let the question linger, unsure how to phrase what had happened.
Kirk settled her onto a stone bench before turning his back to her. “Before he left, yes. He was actually situated here until shortly before the trial. At that point we decided it would be best if he stayed far enough away that, no matter what they did to me, he wouldn’t be tempted to return.” Kirk fumbled with something in the darkness, and a moment later Stasi saw the light of a small flame in his hands.
When he turned back toward her, his face was lit by the warm glow of a candle. “This room isn’t visible from the sea, so you’re safe to use a light in here. But we don’t want anyone to see the light and come investigate, so don’t take any flame with you if you decide to explore further.”
Stasi had little interest in exploring the spooky ruins, but she was eager to hear more about her brother. “Why was it so important that he not return?”
To her surprise, Kirk brought the candle over to the stone bench and sat down beside her. The glow of that tiny fire enveloped them in a small circle of light, and Stasi had to fight the urge to lean closer to him. She watched his face carefully as he spoke.
“Your brother doesn’t want to be found. He and your parents had a disagreement.”
Stasi tried to accept what Kirk told her, but it didn’t make any sense. “I disagree with my parents all the time. I don’t hide from everyone I love because of it.”
Kirk leaned back against the stone wall behind them and closed his eyes. In the flickering light of the candle his face looked older than his almost-thirty years, and weary. “It’s his story to tell. I can’t share it with you any more than I could have told anyone else.”
She placed a tentative hand on his arm. “But everyone thinks you killed him. If he’s not dead, why doesn’t he show his face to prove them all wrong?” She couldn’t stand that Kirk had been willing to let her believe he was a murderer all this time if he really wasn’t.
With a sigh, Kirk opened his eyes and looked at her directly. “If your father knew where your brother was, he’d do everything in his power to bring him back. Thad couldn’t risk that. I’ve told everyone as much of the truth as he wanted me to tell. The rest I promised to keep secret. From everyone, including you.”
Stasi struggled to absorb the news. Granted, Thaddeus was the oldest and she the youngest child in their family, so in spite of being close to her siblings, there had always been that seven-year distance between them. She’d been only seventeen when he’d disappeared, and she’d taken the news very hard—not only the loss of her brother, but the loss of Kirk as a dear family friend.
She wanted very much to believe Thad was still alive, and that Kirk hadn’t ever done anything to hurt him. But she had to steel herself against one inescapable reality: Kirk was keeping secrets from her. However well intentioned those secrets might be, the simple fact was he hadn’t told her the whole truth. Beyond his obscure reassurances, she knew nothing of what had become of her brother. Until the gaps in his story were filled, she didn’t dare trust Kirk. Not completely.
Hoping to push Kirk to reveal her brother’s whereabouts, she met his eyes. “If the rest of my family was killed in today’s ambush, Thaddeus may be the only living relative I have left.”
Kirk bowed his head over the candle. When he looked her in the face again, she was surprised to see wetness twinkling in his eyes. His voice