Royally Claimed - By Marie Donovan Page 0,62
work and got a concussion. Does that give you nightmares?”
“In a way.” She took a deep breath and told him about the man coming into the emergency room needing stitches. How he had grabbed her, slamming her head against the wall and stabbing the guard. Frank listened silently but his distress grew as she told how the man had killed his wife.
“I grabbed the guard’s gun when I fell next to him and scooted away from him. The bad guy came at me and I shot him.”
Frank gasped. “You shot him? You?”
Julia almost didn’t believe it herself. It had been something out of a cops-and-lawyers TV show. The cops had just arrived. The first one on the scene yanked her out of the room, the second aimed his gun at the dead man.
Her savior dragged her around the corner and took the gun from her hands. The emergency team rushed in for poor Lyle as soon as the second cop called the scene clear. “Are you okay, miss?”
The floor wobbled under her feet, and he called for help, supporting her weight. “You did good, miss.”
It was a good thing to kill someone?
The cop read her unsaid question. He was in his forties with a ruddy, lined face and weary, though kind blue eyes. “He would have killed you, too. You get to go home tonight. He doesn’t.”
With her concussion, she didn’t go home that night. But she did go home.
It was still very raw, but she’d come to see the older cop had been right. “Yes, he had a scalpel and would have killed me as well as the hurt security guard. I had to do it to save us both. And we both survived. Lyle needed surgery and lots of blood tranfusions, but the last I heard, he was doing well.”
“Thank God you did what you had to do.” Frank’s voice thickened. “Or you would have been lost to your family. Lost to me. How could we have gone on without you?”
She touched his forearm. “Frank, you haven’t seen me in eleven years before now. You went on without me for that long.”
“No, I didn’t.” He pulled her against his strong chest, her cheek resting in the springy hair. He stroked her head. “I didn’t go on, Julia. I went back to New York that August and was a mess. George and I went out to a bar and I got drunk and cried in my beer. I told him some of what had happened between us, he dragged me home and poured me into bed. He’s the only one who knew about us.”
“I was a mess, too, Frank. I went back to school and slept-walked through the first semester, waking up only when my grades took a nosedive.”
He gave a melancholy laugh. “I wouldn’t get out of bed for my classes. George dragged me into the university counseling office after I missed the first week. It helped me cope, but not much more. Portuguese dukes are not good at taking suggestions. Arrogance and anguish are a bad combination.”
“I had to go to a counselor a couple weeks after I got hurt,” Julia blurted out. “They said I was at high risk for post-traumatic stress and made me visit the police psychologist, of all people.”
“Why him?”
“Her. Because she knows what to say to people who have just shot criminals.” Julia nudged him in the side. “That’s typical of you to assume it would be a man.” Her effort to lighten the topic made him grin.
“Julia, my love, you of all people know I would never underestimate a woman.”
“That guy did.”
He actually growled. “I am glad he is dead, Julia, because I would kill him myself for daring to hurt you. My darling.” He kissed her forehead.
She allowed herself to sink into him, to let him comfort her. Although her parents had tried their best after the shooting to help her through the trauma, she had purposely hidden her distress to protect them and their feelings. Looking back, she probably hadn’t fooled them at all, especially her dad, who had lost several Air Force buddies to warfare, training accidents or airplane crashes.
“Come, lie down with me again,” Frank coaxed, fluffing her pillow and covering them up with the soft cotton sheet and summerweight blanket. “I’ll keep you safe. Don’t worry, meu bem.”
Julia rested her cheek on his chest. His heart thumped under her ear, fast but slowing gradually as they relaxed. She drifted back to sleep, knowing somehow that her