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“That depends.” He towed her through the arch into the garden, and down a path to a side entrance, and his grip on her hand tightened.

“Depends?” She stopped suddenly. “What’s wrong?”

He made a noise, pulled her through the doorway, and lifted her against the wall under the stairs.

She looked down at him, shocked.

“Looks like you’ve evened up,” he said. “Maybe even overtaken me.”

Her eyes widened, and her cheeks burned as she realized what he was saying. Then she dipped her head and brushed her lips over his.

“I like it up here,” she murmured, and kissed him again.

With a groan he let her slide down him to the ground, and pressed her back against the wall, hands braced on either side of her head. “The queen has made me head of your security.”

She contemplated his words, then met his gaze. “That is something you want?”

“It is.” He brushed a kiss to her throat. “I told you I would be the sword at your back, and now it’s official.”

“Official?” She worried her lower lip. Did that mean?—?

“What is it?” He ran his thumb along her lip as if to soothe it.

“Can we still . . .?” She tried to think of the best way to say it.

“We haven’t started yet.” He grinned. “But yes.”

“Well, that’s all right then.” She relaxed back against the wall. “How about we start now?”