Betrothed: To the People’s Prince Read online

  It was said without much hope.

  And Athena looked at her two suitcases and knew her lack of hope was justified.

  She’d packed for four weeks and she’d travelled light. She’d brought one formal little black dress.

  Nikos should have warned her. Nikos should have warned her about the reception, she thought again, feeling anger build.

  But…

  But.

  Prince Alexandros and Princess Lily would be here.

  And…this was really huge…Nikos would be here as well.

  Nikos, who’d fathered a child to another woman before she’d left the island. Nikos, who’d married Marika. Nikos, who she’d thought she loved with all her heart. Who’d finally, dreadfully, taught her not to trust…anyone.

  He’d thrown her in the deep end here-but she would not sink.

  He hadn’t warned her. He’d expect her to be…ordinary.

  She glanced at her watch. It was still only midday. She had seven hours. Could she?

  Nikos would be here.

  She would be a princess.

  Nothing to it, she thought, mentally spitting on her hands and getting down and dusty. She wasn’t fashion editor of one of the world’s biggest glossies for nothing.

  ‘Mrs Lavros, if my cellphone doesn’t work here then I need a landline,’ she said. ‘And the Internet. I need help to become a princess and I need it fast.’

  She didn’t come down until seven-thirty. She almost didn’t come down then.

  She was listening to Nicky read. She and Nicky had changed reader/listener roles about two years back when he’d decreed her choice of stories was boring. Since then this had become her special time of day-to quieten nerves, to remind herself what was important, to focus solely on the two of them.

  And this night she needed her quiet time more than she’d ever needed it in her life. This night she was terrified. For the moment she went downstairs she turned into a princess.

  Nicky was reading from a manual for a Model T Ford. Gripping stuff. Much more gripping than what was happening downstairs.

  But she couldn’t stay up here for ever. Finally the housekeeper appeared. ‘Ma’am, it’s Nikos,’ she said apologetically. ‘He says if you’re not downstairs in two minutes he’ll come up and carry you down. And I think he means it.’

  ‘You’d better go, Mama,’ Nicky said. ‘Nikos is really strong.’ He smiled shyly at the housekeeper. ‘Nikos is my Papa.’

  ‘He’s your…’ The housekeeper’s chin sagged. ‘Well…’

  ‘Mama just told me today,’ Nicky said, proud of the effect he’d created. ‘Christa is my sister.’

  ‘Well,’ the housekeeper said again. ‘I can’t say I didn’t wonder when I saw you, but…Well.’ She surveyed Athena with growing concern. ‘Oh, my dear, Demos will hate it. You’ll need to be so careful. But you need to get tonight over with first. You look lovely. You do us proud. But…if you don’t want the father of your child to carry you forcibly down the staircase, then you’d best come now.’

  Nikos was close to being out of his mind. What was Athena playing at, keeping them waiting? And she should have a gown. He hadn’t thought of it until everyone had arrived, but every woman here was in an evening gown. His friend, Prince Alexandros, and his wife, Princess Lily, looked positively regal.

  But it was Athena who should be a princess tonight, he thought. Dammit, he should have warned her. She’d be a real Cinderella among this splendour. And if she thought he’d orchestrated it so that she looked shabby…Anger wouldn’t begin to describe it.

  But there was no time left for misgivings. The housekeeper was on the stairs, looking towards him, asking a question with her gaze.

  He strode through the crowd and took two steps up, so the crowd could see him. Somewhere above was Athena. He hoped like hell her dress wasn’t too dowdy.

  There was no time to do anything about it now. She was up on the landing, waiting for his signal to come down.

  Waiting for the official introduction.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said in a voice that carried to every part of the vast hall. ‘I give you Her Royal Highness the Princess Athena, Crown Princess Of Argyros.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE crowd gasped as one.

  Nikos stepped down and turned. And saw. And gasped himself.

  She took his breath away.

  She took away the breath of every man and woman in the crowded hall. Nikos had never seen her more beautiful.

  He’d never seen anyone so beautiful.

  She looked to be almost gliding down the stairs. One elegant hand rested on the balustrade to steady herself. Her hand was gloved, long and elegant and beautiful.

  And her dress…

  Her gown was shimmering silk brocade in rich, deep crimson. Its tiny capped sleeves were slipped to just off her shoulders, and the neckline dropped to show the glorious swell of her beautiful breasts. Her bodice was embroidered, red-black on the deeper crimson, and laced from breast to waist with slivers of silver thread.

  From her hips the gown flared into fold on glorious fold of the same richly embroidered fabric, falling to her feet. The skirt was slashed at the front, showing a soft silk underskirt, black, shot with crimson.

  Magnificent didn’t begin to describe it.

  She stepped slowly down the stairs, beneath the great central chandelier, as if she was aware of dramatic effect. Her gown shimmered in the light cast by a thousand crystals above her head.

  There were diamonds at her throat and more at her ears. Her shoes were crimson stilettos to match her gown, studded with more diamonds still. Her beautiful black curls were caught in a simple twisting knot, tied with the same silver thread that laced her bodice.

  She was an exquisite portrait. She was a royal princess.

  She was the Crown Princess Athena, come home to claim her throne.

  Around him there were gasps of delight, amazement, disbelief, and the gasps gave way to applause.

  Nikos knew why. From the uncertainty of the past months, finally the islanders could glimpse their future. These people would be deeply appreciative of this grand gesture; deeply grateful that their princess was taking up her throne.

  Thena.

  No. Not Thena. This was Crown Princess Athena, a woman now so far out of his league that suddenly he felt…as if he had no place here.

  ‘What the hell…? Where did she get that dress?’ It was Demos, standing beside him, his face a picture of apoplectic fury. ‘How long’s she been planning this? She told me…’

  ‘She told you she wasn’t interested in ruling the island,’ Nikos said, his gaze never leaving Athena. Where had she got the gown? It surely hadn’t been in one of the small cases she’d brought here with her.

  Wherever it had come from, it was perfect.

  And the islanders were dumbfounded.

  Athena had effectively been brought up in isolation. Families who’d shown her friendship had been harshly warned off by Giorgos. That she had turned out so full of spirit was a testament to her strength, and to her courage.

  Her mother had home-schooled her, on orders from Giorgos, so Nikos hadn’t met her until they’d been eight years old. He’d been bird-nesting-not stealing eggs, just observing, trying to reach the highest nests on the craggy island cliffs. She’d looked up at him from below, and he’d said, ‘Dare you.’ To his astonishment she’d come right on up. On the way down she’d cut her knee. Regardless of her protests, he’d taken her home so his mother could fix it.

  He remembered she’d stopped outside his back door. ‘I’m not allowed into people’s houses.’

  ‘Why not?’ he’d demanded, astonished.

  ‘The King says I’m not allowed.’

  And he remembered his mother’s reaction. She’d come out, breathing fire.

  ‘The King doesn’t command who comes into my kitchen,’ she’d retorted. ‘Welcome to my home, my love. Nikos, bring her in. Oh, look at your poor knee.’

  An
nia had defied the King to marry Nikos’s father and, where Athena was concerned, she defied him again.

  ‘You stay friends with her, Nikos. Giorgos can rant all he wants-he won’t scare us.’

  He looked at her now and thought Giorgos had been right to be worried. She was truly regal.

  Princess Lily tucked her hand through Nikos’s arm. ‘Doesn’t she look lovely?’ she breathed.

  ‘She does.’ There was no denying such a truth.

  ‘Why is Demos looking like thunder?’

  ‘He thought Athena didn’t want the Crown. He thought it was his for the taking.’

  ‘He’s scary,’ Lily said, watching Demos shove through the crowd and leave. ‘He came to see Alex a couple of days ago. I had a feeling…’ She shivered. ‘Sorry. I just thought…he seems ruthless.’

  ‘There’s nothing he can do.’

  ‘Is there not? You look out for her,’ Lily said urgently and Nikos frowned.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I know what people are capable of when there’s money at stake,’ she said. ‘Be careful Nikos. The poor woman’s terrified.’

  ‘Are you kidding? She’s every inch a princess.’

  ‘You’re only seeing the clothes,’ she said and sounded disappointed in him.

  What was there to see but the clothes?

  A lot. He knew-a lot. But hell, it hurt to think that.

  ‘Then there’s your son,’ Lily said, and he stilled.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Your son.’ She was all seriousness now. ‘Alex says rumours flew from the time people saw him at the ship. He says the age is right and you and Athena were lovers. No?’

  ‘I…’ What the hell…? ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then there’s another reason to take care of your princess. Your son is now heir to the throne. Any threat to Athena would also be directed at him. Have you thought of that?’

  No. No! The thought poleaxed him.

  ‘Lily.’ Alexandros was ushering Athena forward. ‘Princess Athena, may I present my wife, Princess Lily.’

  Lily smiled, then, astonishingly, dropped into a deep curtsey.

  ‘There’s no need for curtseys,’ Athena said, sounding breathless, bordering on appalled.

  ‘There certainly is,’ Lily said. ‘If you’re about to take on the role of Crown Princess, you need every bit of respect you can get. Nikos, bow or something.’

  ‘We’re expected in the great hall,’ Nikos growled. ‘Princess Athena’s kept the kitchen waiting. I hope dinner’s not spoiled.’

  Which earned him a glance of gentle reproof from Lily. ‘Princess Athena’s permitted to keep anything she wants waiting,’ she said grandly. ‘Including you, Nikos. Take the lady’s hand and lead the way.’

  She was seated in the centre of the head table, at a royal reception just for her. It was almost too much to take in.

  To her left was Nikos, then Alexandros and then Lily. They were chatting as old friends. She’d love to be included.

  But on her right was the Archbishop, talking and drinking at an alarming rate. He spoke in theological platitudes, and any attempt she made to make the conversation more general-to include Nikos, or to talk to the woman on the other side of him-saw the platitudes grow louder.

  Being royal was suddenly boring.

  She pecked desultorily at her dinner, not hungry, but then Nikos leaned over and murmured into her ear, ignoring the Archbishop’s monotone; ‘Thena, the kitchen staff have worked themselves into a lather getting this meal ready tonight. There hasn’t been a royal reception on this island for twenty years. I need to tell you that they’re likely to fall on their kitchen knives if you don’t eat your dinner.’

  She stared at him, astonished, and saw he was serious. And she had no comeback. He was already talking again with Alexandros.

  Okay, she’d eat her dinner. She’d listen to the Archbishop. She’d be a good princess.

  What was she letting herself in for?

  She might look like a princess. She didn’t feel like one.

  Nikos was simply dressed in a black suit, beautifully cut, with a crisp white linen shirt. Alexandros was wearing full royal regimentals.

  They looked like two princes, she thought. They were two princes. By right, if not by birth.

  This Crown should belong to Nikos.

  Finally the Archbishop paused for breath. He rose, a little unsteadily, and headed towards the bathroom.

  Alexandros rose and slipped into his seat.

  Once upon a time Alexandros had been her friend as well as Nikos’s friend. Once upon a time, when life had been innocent.

  ‘I’m sorry about this,’ he said softly. ‘Nikos is throwing you in at the deep end.’

  ‘This should be him-not me.’

  He smiled and shook his head. ‘He works behind the scenes, our Nikos. His mother’s done an extraordinary amount for this island and so has Nikos. But they do it quietly and with no fuss.’

  Another woman had made an almost unseemly rush to fill Alexandros’s vacant chair beside Nikos. Nikos smiled a welcome at her. The woman simpered.

  ‘Does he have a girlfriend?’ Athena asked Alexandros, before she could help herself.

  ‘Not seriously. Lots of short-term encounters but little more. I don’t think he’s ever got over Marika.’

  ‘That was nine years ago.’

  ‘How long does it take after a bad marriage to trust yourself to a good one?’ Alex asked quietly. ‘To learn to trust another after such betrayal…?’

  They were quiet for a moment. Watching Nikos. Watching the woman inch her chair closer.

  ‘You and he…’ he said softly. ‘You know, we all thought it’d work.’

  ‘Me included,’ she said before she could stop herself.

  ‘Marika was a very attractive woman. And Nikos was very young.’

  ‘The same age as me. Nineteen.’

  ‘So maybe you need to forgive each other? Especially…’ He hesitated and then obviously decided to be frank. ‘Especially if you have a son.’

  ‘I don’t need to forgive Nikos.’ She looked at Alex full-on. ‘Nikos gave me my son. I regret nothing.’

  ‘So if he forgives you…’

  ‘He’ll have it flung back in his face.’

  The Archbishop was back, waiting for his chair. She turned to him and smiled sweetly.

  ‘I’m glad you’re back. Where were we?’

  Nikos could do nothing but watch.

  This dinner was interminable. Alexandros had abandoned him to talk to others. The woman hanging on his words was driving him crazy. He wanted out of here.

  He could go. But that would mean not watching Thena, and he was mesmerised by her.

  He sat and watched. He responded to the laughter and noise around him. The islanders were jubilant that they had their princess home.

  He’d brought her home. He’d done his job. He should leave.

  Coffee was served. An orchestra, playing gently in the background until now, raised its volume and struck up a waltz.

  This had been prearranged. Alexandros was to lead Athena onto the dance floor. Alexandros, in full ceremonial uniform, was every inch a prince.

  As Athena was every inch a princess.

  In moments she and Alexandros were swirling round the floor with skill and grace. If Lily hadn’t been sitting on the sidelines he’d have been jealous.

  Jealous? He didn’t want any part in this goldfish bowl of royalty. He needed to support Thena from a distance-nothing more.

  The waltz ended. There was a moment’s pause and he thought they were about to dance another. But Alex whispered something to Athena and strode back to Lily.

  Athena stood alone for a moment, as if considering. And then she walked deliberately back to the head table, so she was standing right before him.

  ‘Nikos, it’s thanks to you that I’m here tonight,’ she said steadily, clearly, so all the room could hear. ‘The Prince Alexandros tells me you’ve taken car
e of this island-you’ve worked ceaselessly behind the scenes to protect the islanders from the worst excesses of the old monarchy. I thank you, and I ask you to do me the honour of this dance.’

  She was play-acting, he thought. She’d swept down those stairs in her magnificent dress and she’d assumed the mantle of royalty.

  Her words to him were those of a Crown Princess, a woman who knew her place in the world and assumed the respect of her birthright.

  He’d be proud of her if he wasn’t so bewildered.

  If he wasn’t so angry.

  For there was still anger, simmering underneath. There was still Nicky’s birth to sort. But now wasn’t the time. Not when she was holding out her hand.

  There was nothing to do but to take it.

  ‘I’d be honoured, Your Highness,’ he told her, and her control ended. It was he who led her back onto the dance floor. It was he who took her into his arms and led her into a waltz.

  They could do this.

  One wet winter when school was out and Athena was a constant presence, Annia had declared enough with the television and the card games.

  ‘One day, if the gods look favourably on us, you may eventually rule this island,’ she’d told Athena. ‘And Nikos may well help you. So you need to learn to act as royals.’

  So his mother had taught them their royal history, taught them their ancient rights, taught them protocol-and she’d also taught them to dance.

  He stepped onto the dance floor, he took Athena into his arms and the years disappeared. They might as well be back in his mother’s sitting room, with her complaining on the sidelines…‘Smooth, Nikos, smooth, hold her as if she’s precious, not a sack of potatoes…’

  Hold her as if she’s precious…

  How could he help but do that? She was exquisite. Her skirts were swirling around him as she melted into his arms, and he let the dance take them where they willed.

  The smell of her…The feel of her…

  It felt as if it was yesterday that they’d walked hand in hand over every inch of this island, swearing eternal love, swearing they could never look at another.