Page 66 of Maid for the Alien Prince

I held out a hand to catch her, but she waved me off.

“I’ll be all right.”

“Today must have been more difficult for you than I realized!”

Camila smiled, but it was distant and didn’t touch her eyes.

As she began to ascend the stairs, I followed behind, watching as she braced the majority of her weight on her arm and took each step gingerly.

I stood ready to catch her at a moment’s notice as I couldn’t help but sense she might collapse.

She made it to the top of the stairs, let out a puff of air, and moved more confidently through the hallways until we reached our shared suite.

Once again, we showered and got ready for bed. We lay there, my body already aching beyond belief—feeling like the Fayam had been the one to ride me, not the other way around!

But all of that faded into the background as I looked Camila over and placed my hand on her hip. I gently slid her silk nightie up to reveal the tiny scars I’d noticed during our earlier lovemaking sessions.

Now there was the noticeable limping.

This whole time, I hadn’t put two and two together. It seemed obvious now that the two were linked.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Something with your leg? Or hip?”

Camila stiffened. She looked at me, then glanced away, before grabbing the hem of her nightie and yanking it down, covering herself—or, more accurately, covering the tiny scars. She didn’t look at me again and appeared ready to roll over and change position.

I shifted closer to her, placing my hand on the small of her waist. “It’s okay. Really. There’s nothing you can say that will change how I feel about you.”

Her eyes flashed up at mine, before sinking away again. “You say that…”

I raised her chin with a finger and stroked her cheek with my thumb. “Tell me.”

She licked her lips, preparing to share the truth, and hesitated twice before she finally managed to get the words out.

“It’s… it’s the money…”

“What money?”

“When my father stole those antiques from the palace, he sold them at a pawn shop. He gave that money to me.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “So?”

“He gave it to me so I could… so I could…”

Her eyes flicked up to mine and held them for a moment.

“So I could get an operation,” she finished quietly.

Seeing I wasn’t afraid, she continued on:

“About five years ago, we were involved in an accident. A drunk shuttle driver hit us and we fell from the sky. Dad wasn’t hurt, but I was. The impact happened on my side of the shuttle and badly damaged my hip. Ever since then, I’ve needed to use walking sticks and wheelchairs to get around. Some days are worse than others. That’s the reason he stole the antiques. To pay for the operation.”

She placed her hand on my arm, more shy and vulnerable than I had ever seen her before. “The money paid for the best hip surgeon in the galaxy. There was no way the insurance would pay for it, but I only found that out after I returned home. It was the same day my father was fired.”

Now everything made sense; her suddenly wanting to pay the money back, her father having worked for the palace for twenty years and never having stolen or broken any rules before then…

It made horrible, tragic sense.

“And I know this is your Steyatt,” she said, “and I know how important it is that your mate is in perfect health. So… I understand if you need to find another mate.”

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