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I an watched her walk away with a frown.

Something stirred inside him. Something that felt like worry.

But that would be ridiculous, right?

Why would he feel concern over that pain in the ass? She was a mess. A brat.

Definitely not someone he should worry himself about.

Only . . . was she limping?

Had she hurt herself when she’d fallen? She needed to take more care. What if she’d been seriously harmed?

“Ian, that wasn’t very nice.”

He almost jumped at the voice from behind him. Alarm and anger flooded him as he realized he’d forgotten his primary job. To guard the princess and her friends.

Instead, he’d been obsessed with watching that brat.

She’d distracted him.

A cardinal sin.

“Excuse me?” He tried to act like he hadn’t just been caught out. Turning, he stared down at the women he was charged with protecting.

They were the job.

Not the misfit.

“Why were you so mean to Maggie?” Alina asked, looking worried. She yawned. She needed to go home for a nap. His Daddy Dom instincts pushed at him.

But she wasn’t his Little. And he had no doubt that one of her men would soon be here to take her home and fuss over her.

He wondered if the misfit had anyone taking care of her?

Nope. Not your concern.

Besides, she had her uncle. And Jack.

Ian wasn’t sure what Jack’s play was. He’d rarely seen him take an interest in a woman like he was with Maggie. He could just be doing it because he knew she rattled Ian.

Jack could be an asshole like that.

“You should be nicer to her, Ian,” Pippa said, chastisement in her voice.

He turned to stare at her in surprise. “I wasn’t mean to her.”

Had he been?

Sure, he wasn’t gushing over her like Jack was, but he hadn’t been mean.

Right?

“Just . . . try to be kinder,” Chloe said. “I think there’s something going on with her.”

“Like what?” he snapped.

They all stared at him in shock and he tried to rein himself in. Fuck. The last thing he should be doing was getting upset with the four of them.

Vivi grew pale before turning and running off.

Fuck.

“Vivi? Is she all right? What’s going on?” he asked.

Alina rushed off after her.

“Um.” Pippa bit at her lip.

“I’m calling Caleb.” He drew out his phone.

“Wait.” Pippa reached out to grab his hand. “Not yet.”

The sound of retching hit him. Fuck. Vivi was obviously ill. He gently but firmly removed her hand from his. “I need to call him. Vivi isn’t well and he needs to know. She’s his.”

Pippa sighed but nodded and walked back into the room as Vivi continued to throw up.

Chloe stared at him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I know you have trouble opening up with people and showing them who you are. I’m not asking you to do that. But just remember that some people don’t show their pain. They hide it.”

“Maggie isn’t hiding any pain.” She pretty much blurted out her every thought. He doubted she could hold back anything.

Chloe shrugged, looking unconvinced.

“Chloe, you’ve known her five minutes,” he told her gently. “And I don’t know what she told you, but she doesn’t seem worried or traumatized to me.”

“Maybe not. But just try to be a bit gentler, Ian. For her sake. And yours. If you find out later on that she’s hurting . . . I don’t want you to feel bad.” Chloe walked away.

He shook his head. She had no idea what she was talking about.

Obviously, the misfit had done something to make her believe that nonsense. He needed to keep a closer eye on her. Keep her from making trouble.

And that was the only reason he wanted to be around her.

“This is where you used to live?” she asked Uncle Willy as they stared out at a gorgeous two-story house. It was off-white with a dark roof and surrounded by palm trees.

“Yes, this was Lia’s family home. I lived here for close to fifteen years with her before she . . . before she . . .”

She reached over and grasped hold of his hand. He held on tight. She could feel him shaking.

“Do you want to get out of the car? Go look around?” she asked. “I’m sure the people who live here won’t mind.”

“No,” he said sharply, pulling his hand away. “No, I won’t go inside.”

“All right, you don’t have to,” she murmured soothingly.

But he was agitated. Upset.

Monkeyballs.

Anxiety tugged at her and she wished she had Ziggy with her.

This had been a bad idea. But she hadn’t known how to say no when he’d suggested it on their way back to their accommodations. So here they were, sitting in a car outside the house where he used to live with Lia.

And she knew she had to get him away from there before things got worse. Or someone noticed his strange reaction.

“Let’s leave.”

“No!” He turned to her, giving her a sharp look. “Not yet.”

“All right. Not yet.”

Thankfully, the privacy screen was up between them and the driver’s seat, so Beck couldn’t see or hear anything. But soon, he was going to start wondering why they were just sitting here.

“Uncle Willy?” she whispered after ten minutes of silence passed.

“We can leave.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief as she let Beck know.

“So you know the queen quite well?” she asked.

“Isobelle and Lia were the best of friends,” Uncle Willy told her. “And I became close to Isobelle and the Kings when I lived here.”

Wow.

When they returned to their accommodation, Uncle Willy went up to his room without a word.

“He’s a bit upset,” she explained to Beck.

The big man nodded in understanding. “I get it. I would be too if anything happened to Chloe.”

“She’s lovely,” she said truthfully.

“Best thing that ever happened to us. We don’t deserve her.”

“It all works okay?” she asked. “I mean, uh, with having that many people in a relationship, I was wondering if . . . if it all works well?” And yes, she knew she’d just repeated herself.

But today was a day for being a big fat dork, it seemed.

“Yeah. It works better than okay.” He gave her a smile. “I know it seems unusual when you’ve grown up differently. But this . . . for us . . . it’s right.”

She nodded, unsure what to say. This was actually the most she’d heard Beck speak.

“I’m probably not the one to ask. Hux is better at explaining stuff. But we . . . balance each other. And it means there’s always someone who is there for Chloe. To keep her safe. To protect her.”

Damn.

His protectiveness and love for Chloe were written into every line of his body. What would it be like to have someone care about her like that? To want to look after her?

And Chloe had four men.

Lucky bitch.

As she left Beck and wandered upstairs, she tried to convince herself that Chloe’s life couldn’t be all that great. Men weren’t all they were cracked up to be. All that testosterone had to be stifling. Plus, imagine the laundry and dirty dishes. And the farting.

Yikes.

But as much as Maggie tried to tell herself that it wasn’t all sunshine and roses, she couldn’t help but go over Beck’s words in her head.

More than one man meant she’d never have to be alone again.

A sad sigh escaped her. She was so tired of being lonely. Of feeling like no one was on her side.

Instead of moving into her bedroom, she headed up to the rooftop deck where the pool was. She stared out over the vast expanse of desert to her left and houses to her right. In the distance, the ocean glinted.

She knew she was being silly. She had no right to feel sorry for herself.

“You’re alive. You’re healthy . . . sort of. And you have a job. So stop being a baby and feeling sorry for yourself.”

After her pep talk, she tried to meditate, but her brain wouldn’t shut up. Deciding she just needed a cup of tea and a biscuit, she headed down the stairs.

A noise from her uncle’s room made her stop in her tracks.

Was this what had been pushing at her? Why hadn’t she thought to check on her uncle?

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. “Uncle Willy?”

There was no reply. Shoot. Shoot.

What if he was hurt? Upset?

She knocked louder. “Uncle Willy? Can I come in?”

Still nothing. She pressed her ear to the door. But these stupid doors were thick and well-made.

Why did they have to be of such good quality? What was wrong with doors that were so flimsy you could make a hole in them with one good kick?

“I’m coming in, Uncle Willy!” she called out.

Please don’t be naked. Please don’t be naked.

Cracking open the door, she spotted him. Fully clothed.

There was a God.

But her relief immediately turned to worry as she watched him pace up and down the room. He looked agitated. His blond-gray hair was standing on end and he was muttering to himself.

Bollocks.

Not good.

A knot tightened in her stomach as she moved into the room. Anxiety had her wishing that she’d brought in some moral support.

She could really use Ziggy right now. She’d been trying to wean herself off needing him so much.

It wasn’t really working, though.

“Uncle Willy?” she called out.

He turned to her, his eyes wild. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”

Monkeyballs.

Why had she let him go to his old house today? What had she been thinking? Of course he was going to be upset.

“Uncle Willy, it’s me. It’s Maggie.”

“I don’t know a Maggie!”

“I’m your niece. Remember? I’m Heather’s daughter. Your sister?”

This was a risk. Sometimes, reminding him of who she was helped calm him down. He would come back into himself.

Other times, it would make things worse.

Turning, he grabbed a vase and threw it against the wall.

Seemed this time it was making things worse.

Good to know.

“I don’t have a niece! My sister doesn’t have children!” Uncle Willy roared.

Sadness filled her.

He’d always been so kind to her. A total gentleman. The only person in her life that had been a constant. Non-judgmental.

And now . . . this wasn’t her uncle.

And it made her want to weep. But she couldn’t. Because it was up to her to take care of him.

Right. How are you going to do that when you can’t take care of yourself?

Shut up, subconscious. Did your mother never tell you that if you can’t say anything nice not to say anything at all?

And now she was arguing with herself.

A sign of sanity, for sure , she thought sarcastically.

Rubbing at her head, Maggie took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

A sudden knock on the door made her jump and she turned toward it in shock.

Fuck. Why hadn’t she locked it? What if the person on the other side came in? They couldn’t see Uncle Willy like this.

“Yes?”

“I heard something smash,” Beck called out. “Is everything all right?”

“Lia, who is that?” Uncle Willy asked.

She glanced over to find her uncle standing just behind her. He was glaring down at her.

Okay. She could work with this. Being Lia was better than being someone he didn’t know. Right?

Maybe.

“Sorry, Beck. I accidentally knocked over a vase.” She hoped she sounded normal and not like she was moments away from shattering, just like the vase.

Please don’t let that be a hugely expensive vase.

Surely they wouldn’t put anything priceless in their guest accommodation?

She made a mental note to remove anything else breakable from both of their bedrooms.

A sigh of relief left her. She always felt better when she had a to-do list.

Organization was key.

There was a pause outside the door. As though Beck was deciding whether or not to believe her.

Rude. As if she’d lie.

You’re lying right now.

Ahh. Yeah. Okay. Now she understood his hesitation. She really shouldn’t be trusted.

“I’ll get something to clean it up with,” Beck told her.

Shoot.

Why did he have to be helpful? Why couldn’t he be more like Ian?

Crap. Had she really just wished that pleasant, quiet Beck was more like antagonistic, grouchy Ian?

She was losing it.

Uncle Willy reached out and grasped hold of her wrist. Hard. She winced and had to stifle a cry of pain. Tears filled her eyes, but she couldn’t let any sign of her pain escape in case Beck heard.

Why the heck wasn’t this place more soundproof?

And yes, she was aware of the irony since she had just been thinking the opposite before. But they were her thoughts.

“No!” she cried out.

Monkeyballs.

“I mean, I’ve already got something to clean it up. No need to bother yourself. Uh, you need to carry on bodyguarding. Righty-ho!”

Righty-ho?

Who the fuck said righty-ho? She was definitely losing it.

“You sound strange. I think I should come in,” Beck replied.

“You can’t! I’m naked!” It was the first thing that came to her mind. And now he was going to think she was a total nutjob. Because why would she be in her uncle’s room naked?

A groan escaped her.

Uncle Willy glared at her. “Why are you lying? Who is that man? Is he your lover?”

“What? No! He has a woman, Uncle. You met her. Chloe.”

Too late, she remembered that he thought she was Lia.

“Why are you calling me uncle?” He released her wrist, which was an immense relief, but then he grabbed his head.

Monkeyballs. She needed to get him to relax. To sleep. This stress wasn’t good for him.

“We’re all good, Beck. Thank you.”

She prayed he just left. When there were no other noises, she sighed with relief. After locking the door, she turned to her uncle, who was staring around in shock. She moved closer to him. “Why don’t you take a nap?”

He shook his head. “What is happening? Why is a man visiting you while you’re naked, Lia?”

He lunged, pushing her back. She stumbled, stepping on the glass with a wince. She’d taken her shoes and socks off when she’d entered the house earlier. So there was nothing to protect her bare feet as she stood on the shattered glass vase.

Agony shot through her left foot and she had to breathe through the pain in order not to let out a scream.

Damn. Talk about amazing self-control.

It wasn’t like she was a stranger to pain. She’d lived with it for years. Still did.

So she could bite her lip and suffer through a bruised wrist and a cut foot.

No problem.

There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her uncle.

Sadness flooded her along with resolution. She’d continue to take care of him. It was the very least that she owed him.