Betrothed: To the People’s Prince

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.’

Annia 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 care 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.

She was the most beautiful woman…the most beautiful princess…

The waltz ended but another began, as if the orchestra knew this was no time for interruption.

He had his Thena in his arms again. It felt as natural as life itself.

‘It should be you taking the Crown,’ she whispered. ‘You deserve it.’

The moment-the magic-was broken. He felt it slip away with infinite regret.

‘I deserve nothing, Princess.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘It’s what you are.’

‘For four weeks.’

He almost misstepped. He’d have no excuse because dancing with Thena was like breathing.

‘You can’t leave,’ he said. ‘You know that.’

‘I make up my own mind.’

‘As you did last time. Walking away…’

‘I believe I ran,’ she said. She was smiling, a gentle smile that would have everyone thinking she was enjoying a light conversation with him.

‘There was nothing to run from,’ he said angrily.

‘Oh, but there was,’ she said, her smile not slipping. ‘And I didn’t know the half of it. I should have run much sooner.’

‘You’re not making sense.’

‘Then aren’t we a match?’ she said.

They danced on. Other couples were joining them on the floor. He had to think of something to say. Anything.

‘Where did you get your gown?’ he tried.

‘You like it?’ She sounded strained to breaking point. ‘It’s worth over ten thousand dollars, which is a fraction of what these diamonds are worth.’

‘What the hell…’ His brow snapped down in confusion. ‘You’ve managed to get your hands on the royal exchequer?’

Her eyes flashed fire. Somehow her feet kept moving, her smile stayed in place, but daggers could be less lethal than the look she gave him.

‘I must have,’ she said, and he could see that the effort it cost to keep her smile in place was almost superhuman. ‘After all, I only have weeks to strip the place bare.’

‘Thena…’

‘Nikos,’ she snapped. ‘You know me better than this.’

‘I don’t know you.’

She didn’t respond. They circled the dance floor, twice, three times more, and the music came to an end.

‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly and let her hands drop from his. He was aware of a sharp stab of loss. Quickly suppressed. Let’s not let emotions get in the way here, he told himself.

But they already had.

‘It was my pleasure,’ he said, just as formally.

But she wasn’t finished with him. ‘I’m a fashion editor,’ she said coldly, formally. ‘I know the value of product placement. So I let it be known that the new Princess Athena of Argyros would be presented to the public for the first time tonight. The fashion houses’ marketing teams know me. They know I can carry clothes-see, there are advantages in not eating crepés and soufflés. So they moved fast, flying clothes and jewellery from Athens this afternoon. I get to send them all back, but not before I’m photographed by the world’s press-which, if you look to the balcony, also seem to be present. So I’ve organised my clothes, Nikos, and I’ve organised them myself. I’d never touch the island coffers. I never will.’

And then she added a more hesitant trailer.

‘And Nikos, my feelings for you are messing with my ability to do this job. If this is to work then I need to separate them.’

‘You want me to leave you alone?’

‘That’s it.’

‘When you have my son?’

‘He’s not your son unless you earn the right to call him that.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I don’t have a clue,’ she said and sighed, and then repinned her smile and turned around to a middle-aged lady who’d clearly been aching to talk to her.

Audience over.

It was so hot in here. She felt as if she was suffocating.

This dress was fabulous but it required a serious waist. She had lacing not only on the dress but also on the less than glamorous undergarment underneath. Move over, Scarlett O’Hara, she thought grimly as the night wore on. What women put up with in the name of vanity!

But the dress, the diamonds, the effort she’d gone to, were working. There were cameras everywhere. She knew the world’s press. The glossy magazines liked nothing better than royalty on their front covers. So be it. She’d done the glamorous bit as a clear signal that she was a real princess.

It was a signal to Demos to lay off. It was a signal to Nikos that she was up to the task.

She was dancing with one islander after another. They were treating her with awe. What a difference a frock makes, she thought ruefully. When she was a child these men and women had obeyed the King’s ruling and had nothing to do with her.

Only Nikos and his mother had defied the King.

Nikos…He was dancing too, with one beautiful woman after another. Mr Popularity.

That was unfair, she conceded. She’d been here less than a day, but already she was being told how much Nikos had done for this island. He’d fought Giorgos every step of the way.

But…she was his tool, she thought bleakly, as the night wore on. She was a tool for Nikos to use in his fight to save the island. And as for the past…How much of that had been real and how much had it been Nikos’s desire to rule this island as he wanted it to be ruled?

The dancing ended. She needed air. She left the ballroom and the crowd parted before her as if she was…royalty.

Could she ever get used to this?

The room next to the ballroom was the great hall where dinner had been served. It was deserted now, cleared and empty. But its vast windows looked onto a balcony, and the balcony looked over the sea.

She walked out and stood at the parapet, gazing out over the ocean. Breathing the night air. Breathe in, breathe out. Try to relax.

She smelled the salt breeze from the sea. There was the scent of flowers she hadn’t seen or smelled for ten years.

She loved this island. Loved it.

‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’

She whirled and it was Demos, portly and flaccid and simmering with obvious rage. He walked out and slammed the door behind him. ‘Do you seriously think you can get away with this?’

‘With what?’

‘It’s mine,’ he said fiercely, stepping towards her with an intent that frightened her. ‘Giorgos always meant it to go to me.’

‘Giorgos no longer has a say in how this island will be ruled. It’s in the hands of the…’

‘The gods? Don’t give me that. You’re not wanted here. You promised me…’

‘I meant the people. And I didn’t promise you anything.’

‘Liar.’

‘You lied to me,’ she said evenly. ‘You said you cared for this island. Now I find it was just greed.’

He was so close to her she could feel his breath. He was pushing his body into her space, so her back was hard against the parapet. ‘You left this island to have a kid. Nikos’s kid. They’re all saying it. You think we want a woman like you to run the island?’

‘I care for the island more than you do.’

‘You don’t know what care is.’ He closed his eyes. Regrouped. ‘Okay. Here’s another solution. You know how much these diamond mines are worth? We can split it. You don’t want to live here. Neither do I-it’s the pits-but someone has to. You go back to your life in New York and I’ll take over. I’ll do what has to be done and we’ll cut the profits. Fifty-fifty. You can’t say fairer than that.’

‘Demos,’ she said, trying desperately to keep her voice steady, ‘I’m not opening the mines.’

‘You might have to.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘There are ways,’ he said viciously. ‘You care about your kid, don’t you. It’d be a shame if anything happened to him. You can’t watch him all the time. You go back to Manhattan and he’ll be safe again.’

She felt cold and she felt sick.

‘You can’t hurt us,’ she managed.

And he simply smiled. And he raised a hand to hit her.

Only…he didn’t. She was backed as far as she could, putting her hands up in a futile attempt to prevent a blow, but the sweeping hand didn’t reach her.

A dark shape had sprung from the shadows as if it had always been there. Demos’s hand was held before it had a chance to find its mark.

Demos twisted, lashing out with his boots, moving so the shadow was now in the light.

Nikos.

‘How dare you touch her?’ He let Demos’s hand drop as if it was slime. Demos struck out again, but Nikos was before him. He punched, so hard that Demos sprawled backward, crashing over an ornate chair, falling, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Lying there for one long moment while Thena thought, dear God, he’s killed him.

Nikos didn’t say a word. His hand came out and took Thena’s, holding hard.

An oath came from the tiled floor. Not dead, then.

Nikos tugged her hard against him, putting her slightly behind him, his body between her and her cousin. He watched in grim silence as Demos struggled to his feet.

Demos straightened, swore again and looked at Nikos with murder in his eyes. If he’d had a gun, Athena thought with a shiver of pure dread, then Nikos would be dead. Or if he’d been wearing Alexandros’s ceremonial sword…

‘What is she to you?’ he snarled to Nikos. ‘This has nothing to do with you.’

‘Princess Athena is the mother of my son,’ Nikos said and his voice made Athena shudder. It was as cold as ice, rigid, formal and grim. ‘You just threatened my son. And…’ he tugged Athena closer ‘…you were about to strike my woman. I’ll defend what’s mine, and this woman and her son are mine. Hear me well, Demos, for I mean every word. Get yourself out of this palace and off the royal grounds. If you’re seen within sight of Princess Athena or her son again you’ll be thrown off the island, never to return.’

Then he turned his back on Demos as if he had no interest in him at all-and he took Athena into his arms.