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Then Judd turned to Hux. “Report.”
Hux sighed. “I’ll tell you about it once I’ve showered. And drunk a gallon of water.” He looked over at her. “Which you also need to do.”
“Of course. I’ll go drink some now.”
“Why does she need to drink a lot of water?” Judd asked. “Did she dehydrate? Why were you at the edge of the palace grounds? How did you get that far?”
Whoa. He had more questions than a four-year-old in a candy store. Meanwhile, she was growing more tired and was aware of how badly she probably stunk.
“We ran that far,” Hux said. “Ms. Reed likes to run.”
Judd’s eyes widened. “That far? You must have been sprinting. No wonder you became dehydrated. Do you feel okay? We need to get Obian here.”
Who the hell was Obian?
Actually, it didn’t matter who he was, she didn’t want to see him.
“No, I’m fine. Really. I feel as good as new.”
Owen made a strange noise as she spoke and she moved her gaze briefly to him. What was that about?
“You sure?” Beck asked. He might be quieter than the others . . . well, other than Owen, but his voice certainly commanded attention when he spoke. “Obian is the palace doctor. He can come check you over.”
“Oh no. No, I definitely don’t need that. Thank you all for everything. Sorry I was such a bother. I promise not to go so far tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Hux said, looking pained. “You’re planning on this torture tomorrow?” He seemed so panicked that she almost found herself smiling. Poor guy really wasn’t into running.
“If it’s too much, you don’t have to come,” she said in a slightly teasing voice.
Jonathan’s hand brushed against hers, reminding her that she shouldn’t show any preference to these guys, any interest.
“I can handle it,” Hux huffed. “I’m just thinking of you, darlin’. Don’t you think you should, uh, rest?”
“He’s right, Ms. Reed,” Beck said stiffly.
“Thank you, gentlemen, for being so concerned about my personal assistant. I can assure you I’ll make sure that she’s taken care of. I’d be lost without my right arm. But if you’ll excuse us, I need to get ready for the day and perhaps Chloe should get some rest.”
Judd frowned as Beck nodded, looking like he agreed. Hux took a step toward her, before stopping.
And Owen? He just watched. Very closely. Was it her imagination or did his gaze narrow as Jonathan put his hand around her wrist? His grip was tight. So tight that she nearly winced.
But she managed to put a small smile on her face as she waved goodbye to them all.
It should have been a relief to step into the cool, air-conditioned suite in the palace. To be away from them and this odd effect they had on her.
However, she knew better than that. As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned to Jonathan with a wince.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. They sort of ambushed me as I was leaving. Apparently, they didn’t like the idea of me jogging alone, which is crazy since I go running in London all the time on my own. And Escana is meant to be a far safer place. I just overdid it and got a bit light-headed, that’s all. But it won’t happen again. I can go earlier when they aren’t around. And I won’t push myself too much. Just please, don’t say that I can’t go running while I’m here.”
That was her biggest fear. That he’d order her not to go running.
And while she theoretically could tell him to shove his orders . . . she owed him her life.
So she wouldn’t do that.
“My dear, why are you acting like I’m an ogre?” He let go of her wrist and reached up to brush some hair off her face.
Do not move. Do not look scared of him.
It was hard. He was both her savior and the bogeyman under the bed for her. And that brought up a convoluted mix of emotions.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that. I guess I’m just . . . out of sorts right now. I got a bit faint. I probably need some more sleep and something to eat.”
“Yes. A shower and some new . . . clothes would work wonders for making you feel better, I’m sure.” He studied her, then moved his gaze to the windows. “I have a feeling your friends out there are going to stick close to you over the next few days.”
“I don’t . . . they’re not my friends. I just met them. And I’m fairly certain they don’t like me.”
Which stupidly upset her. She didn’t normally care whether she was liked or not. She didn’t usually have this need to please people.
They were just . . . different.
