Crowned: The Palace Nanny

CHAPTER NINE

ELSA woke and sunlight was streaming in though the massive French windows of their bedroom. The crystals from the chandelier above her head were sending glittering sparkles across the room.

Zoe was sitting on the end of her bed, fully dressed in another of the lovely outfits Stefanos had bought for her.

She was cuddling a kitten. A small grey kitten with a white nose, white paws and a tiny tip of white on the end of his tail.

‘Go say hello to Elsa,’ Zoe said, and put the kitten down and watched in satisfaction as the small creature walked along the coverlet, crouched down and put a paw out to tentatively touch Elsa’s chin.

‘What…where did he come from?’ Elsa managed, doing a speedy visual check of the room in case Stefanos was lurking behind the curtains. Not that she was afraid of Stefanos. Not exactly.

But she wouldn’t put it past the man to lurk.

‘Stefanos gave him to me,’ Zoe said with deep satisfaction. ‘He said I must be missing my cats at home and he’s mine to keep. His name is Buster.’

‘Yours to keep…’ Elsa said cautiously. This needed thinking about.

There were things like quarantine laws. It was easy enough, she knew, to get animals from Australia to Europe, but taking them the other way…

She’d just woken up and here was another instance of Stefanos’s arrogance. He’d have planned this before last night, she thought. Before she’d known he was leaving. He’d assumed he could talk her round.

He had talked her round.

But something wasn’t making sense. Zoe was up and dressed. She’d gone to sleep-what-at five or six p.m.?

She checked her wristwatch.

Eleven.

She sat bolt upright and yelped. Buster bolted for the far end of the bed, where his new mistress scooped him up and held him close.

‘You’re scaring him,’ she said, reproachful.

‘I’m scaring myself. How can it be morning already?’

‘It’s been morning for ages,’ Zoe said. ‘I woke up and waited and waited but you kept sleeping. And then I opened the door and there was a really nice lady sitting in the corridor and she said her name was Christina and she’d been waiting for me to wake up. She helped me have a bath-it’s a really big bath, Elsa, you should see it-and she helped me with my clothes and then she took me down for breakfast and Stefanos was there. So we had a really yummy breakfast-strawberries, Elsa-and then Stefanos took me to the stables and gave me Buster. And I brought him up to show you but you were still sleeping, and Stefanos said we had to let you sleep for as long as you needed to, so we’ve been really quiet only we’ve just been watching.’

This was just about the longest speech Zoe had ever made. She sat back on the bed and cuddled Buster the kitten, and Elsa smiled at her in pleasure and wonder. The as-yet-not-met Christina must be good to have Zoe smiling after a bath. To be remembering it with pleasure.

But there was another part of her that was saying uh-oh.

Stefanos was truly seducing them, she thought, watching Zoe’s face flush with excitement. He’d already seduced her little charge. Zoe might be hugging her kitten but every time she said Stefanos’s name her voice took on the hush of hero worship.

He’d given her strawberries for breakfast. He’d given her a kitten.

Bribery, she thought.

And what was he trying on her?

Seduction of another kind.

But…she kind of liked it.

Matty, Matty, Matty, she thought fiercely but it didn’t work. Wherever Matty was, however much she’d loved him, he was no longer protection against Stefanos.

‘Do you want to get up now?’ Zoe said. ‘Stefanos wants to take you out to lunch. He said you both need to talk privately about boring stuff, so he asked if I’d mind staying here with Christina and Buster. And Christina thought she might show me the beach. If that’s okay with you,’ she added, but her tone said Elsa’s agreement was never in doubt.

It couldn’t be in doubt. Elsa inspected the request from all angles. There was a lot to consider.

Like going out to lunch with Stefanos. He’d suggested it last night. She didn’t remember agreeing.

‘He said to tell you it’s a picnic. He said to tell you shorts are man…mandatory and swords are optional. I don’t know what that means.’

‘It means Stefanos is being silly,’ she said, a bit too abruptly, and Zoe looked at her in astonishment.

‘Don’t you like Stefanos?’

‘No. Yes! I don’t know.’

‘Do you want Christina to run you a bath?’ Zoe said seriously. ‘The bath is lovely. It’s really, really deep.’

‘I believe I can run my own bath,’ Elsa said. ‘Though I should take a shower. I hope your cousin Stefanos is taking one too. Preferably cold.’

‘Why would he want to do that?’ Zoe asked, astonished.

‘I have no idea,’ she said and summoned a grin. ‘I know I’m being stupid. But I think it might be me who needs to take a cold shower.’

She went to shower-but then she changed her mind. This wasn’t a place for denying oneself.

Her hip would definitely like a bath.

Back home she survived on tank water. Showers had to be fast of necessity.

Here she had a feeling if she wanted to stay in the bath all day, playing with the amazing selection of bottles of luxury…stuff? no one would say a word of protest. So she did. If not for a day, for almost an hour.

She might have used one too many bottles of smelly stuff, she conceded as she soaked on. She was fighting to keep an airway free through bubbles.

Finally, reluctantly, her conscience got the better of her. She wrapped herself in a fabulously fleecy white towel, used several more towels getting rid of the bubbles and padded back to the bedroom.

She opened her wardrobe and gasped. Yesterday she’d accepted two dresses and a couple of shirts and sandals. Some time during the night her selection had been augmented by…well, by enough clothes to keep a girl happy for a year.

This was really intrusive. She should be angry. But…She tugged out a lovely jonquil blouse and a soft pair of linen shorts. She held them up in front of her and any attempt at anger disappeared.

‘If you need to change direction, then you might as well enjoy it,’ she told herself, and thought she was about to go on a picnic with Stefanos and she had new clothes and she felt terrific and maybe changing direction wasn’t bad at all.

He was leaving.

She wouldn’t think about that. She’d cope. She always had coped with what life threw at her. And if life was now throwing bubbles and new clothes at her…and lunches with princes…a girl might just manage to survive.

She came down the staircase looking wide-eyed with apprehension, self-conscious in her neat lemony blouse, white shorts and new sandals-and very, very cute. She’d twisted her curls up into a knot. He liked it, he thought. He liked it a lot.

He’d like it better if he could just untwist it…

‘Have you been standing there for hours waiting for me?’ she demanded as she saw him.

‘Hours,’ he agreed, and grinned.

Did she have any idea how cute she was? Her eyes were creased a tiny bit from a lifetime spent in the sun, but that was the only sign of wear. Her nose was spattered with her eighteen gorgeous freckles. If he didn’t know for sure she must be close to thirty, he’d have pegged her as little more than a teenager.

And she smelled…She smelled…

‘Wow,’ he said as she came close, and she grinned.

‘Lily of the Valley, Sandalwood and Fig and Anise. There would have been lavender in there too, but I couldn’t get the bottle open.’

‘Thank God for that,’ he said faintly and then counted freckles again. ‘Um…Don’t you believe in cosmetics?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Most of the women I know wear make-up,’ he said lamely, kicking himself for letting his mouth engage before head.

‘Well, good for them,’ she said encouragingly. ‘Do you, too?’

‘Do I what?’

‘I’ve spent so much time in doctors’ waiting rooms over the last four years that I’ve read enough cosmetics advertisements to make me a world expert. There’s men’s cosmetics as well. I’m sure princes use them. Fake tan’s the obvious one. Does your tan rub off on your towel?’

‘No,’ he said, appalled, and she arched her eyebrows in polite disbelief.

‘You’ll need sunscreen,’ he said, sounding lame, and the look she gave him then was almost scornful.

‘Go teach your grandmother to suck eggs. I’m Australian. I put sunscreen on before my knickers.’

And then she heard what she’d said-and blushed.

It was some blush. It started at her toes and worked its way up, a tide of pink. She could feel it, he thought, and her knowledge that it was happening made it worse.

He loved it.

‘So…so this is royal beachwear,’ she managed, moving on with an obvious struggle.

He glanced down at his casual chinos, his linen shirt and his boat shoes. ‘What’s wrong with this?’

‘Looks great for being a prince and lazing on a sixty-foot yacht on the Mediterranean,’ she said. ‘It’s not great for rock pools, though. And that’s where I hoped we’d be going. Somewhere rock pooly?’

She was defending by attack, he thought. But she was still blushing.

Last night he’d kissed her. Right now, all he could think of was that kiss. And how he could repeat it.

He may well get his face slapped, he thought. She’d been way out of control last night, exhausted and vulnerable. Right now…her defences were up and, even if he wanted to-okay, he did want to-she’d be sensible enough for both of them.

‘The kitchen staff have set us up with a picnic basket,’ he told her. ‘There’s a great little beach I know a few minutes’ drive from here. I believe it even has rock pools.’

‘What time will we be back?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘Yes,’ she said, definite. ‘I want control here. I should even be deciding where we’re going.’

‘Isn’t it usually the guy…?’

‘Who gives orders,’ she finished for him. ‘I’m sure it is, and if it’s a prince then it probably works double. But Sleeping Beauty’s for wimps. I fight my own battles-and I set up my own defences. Can I tell Zoe four o’clock?’

‘If you like.’

‘I do like,’ she said. ‘You’re on probation. After that kiss last night…I don’t know why you did it but it scared me. I’m happy to have a picnic but let’s make it quite clear this relationship is purely business.’

‘Of course,’ he said courteously but he was aware of a stab of disappointment.

He didn’t know what was happening-but what he did know was that he didn’t want to be on a business footing with Elsa.

‘So why are we going on a picnic?’ she asked as they headed out along the coast road. ‘Aren’t there urgent princely things you should be doing?’

There were urgent princely things he should be doing, but for now…They were ensconced in a Gullwing Mercedes-a 1954 300 SL. A car with doors that opened like wings from the centre. A car that looked like a weird seagull-a crazy, wonderful car. It had belonged to the King, but it had obviously sat in mothballs for the last fifty years. Finding it had been a highlight of the past two dreary weeks.

And now…it felt great. The sun was shining, they were cruising smoothly around the curves of the scenic coast road, the Mercedes’ motor was purring as if it was finally allowed to be doing what it should be doing-and for the moment that was how he felt too. As if he’d got it right.

Beside him…A beautiful woman with freckles.

‘So we’re going to the beach why?’ she prodded again and he shook off his preoccupation with Elsa the woman and Gullwing the car and tried to think of what she’d asked.

‘I want to be private.’

‘Not so you can kiss me again?’

‘No,’ he said, startled, and then thought actually that wasn’t such a bad idea.

‘Just as well,’ she said, but her voice was strained. He glanced across at her and thought she’d come close to admitting that last night’s kiss had affected her as much as it had him.

‘So you want to talk to me,’ she ventured.

‘We need to depend on each other,’ he said, trying to sound suitably grave and princely. ‘Maybe it’s time we got to find out a bit more about each other.’

‘Without kissing.’

‘Without kissing.’ Hard to sound grave and princely while saying that.

‘So you can figure whether I can take on this island?’

‘No.’ He grew serious then. ‘I’m not asking that of you. It’s my responsibility. But I did think-even before last night-that you deserve an explanation of who I am-of what’s behind the mess of this island. So that while I’m away you have a clear idea of the background.’

He was manoeuvring the car off the main road now, turning onto a dirt track through what was almost coastal jungle. Once upon a time this had been a magnificent garden but that was a long time ago now. He parked the car under the shade of a vast wisteria draping the canopy of a long-strangled tree. As the car’s batwings pushed up, the wisteria’s soft flowers sent a shower of petals over their heads.

It was right to come here, Stefanos thought. Matters of state had to wait a little. This felt…right.

Elsa was gazing around her with awe and the beginnings of delight. A tiny stone cottage was also covered with wisteria. It looked ramshackle, neglected and unused.

‘This looks almost like home,’ she breathed. ‘Without the termites.’

‘You have termites?’

‘My house is wood veneer,’ she said darkly. ‘Veneer over termites. So what’s this place?’

‘My home,’ he said, and she stared.

‘Your home? But you live in Manhattan.’

‘Now I do. This is where I was brought up.’

She stared around her, puzzled. ‘But a prince wouldn’t live here.’

‘I wasn’t raised as a prince. My father scratched a living fishing. He was killed in a boating accident when I was sixteen. Accidents to the island’s original royals are littered throughout our history-never anything that could definitely be attributed to the King, but terrifying, regardless. After Papa died my mother insisted I go abroad. She sold everything to get me into school in the States. Christos left soon after, for the same reasons, only Christos’s mother had a little more money so she was able to go with him.’

‘So you left the island when you were sixteen? Alone?’

‘Yes,’ he said flatly. ‘I had no choice. Mama was terrified every time I set foot on the island so she insisted I didn’t return. She died of a heart attack just before I qualified as a doctor, and it’s to my eternal regret I wasn’t here for her. I hope…I hope she was proud of my medicine. I’ve always hoped that what I do was worth her sacrifice.’ He shrugged awkwardly. ‘Who can tell, but there it is.’

‘So…’ She was eyeing him cautiously. Sympathetic but wary. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘I want to tell you why I left the island and I want to explain how important my medicine is to me.’ He hesitated. ‘That’s all. Dumb, really. But after last night…it seemed important that you know.’

‘You can practice medicine here,’ she said, still cautious.

‘I can,’ he said. ‘I will. The old doctor here is overjoyed that I’ll be joining him.’

‘But…not practising neurosurgery?’

‘I’d need a population considerably bigger than this island to justify equipment, technology, ancillary staff. So no.’

‘You’ll be a good family doctor,’ she said softly and he smiled.

‘I hope so. If I’m not I’m sure you’ll tell me. Now…lunch?’

‘Yes, please.’

She climbed out of the car and gazed around her. It was a picture-perfect setting, a tiny house nestled in a tranquil little cove. She thought of Stefanos growing up here, using this place as his own private paradise.

He had it all. His career, his title, his good looks, his life.

So why did she feel sorry for him? It wasn’t what he’d intended, she thought, glancing at him as he retrieved a picnic basket from the car. But suddenly…Suddenly she thought she hadn’t had it too hard at all.

She’d lost Matty but she’d loved him and he’d loved her. Her own parents had died young but her best friend, Amy, had always been close. And then there’d been Zoe.

How hard must it be to walk alone?

How would he react if she told him she felt sorry for him? she wondered, and then she glanced at him again, at the sheer good looks of the man, the way he smiled at her, the teasing laughter behind his eyes.

All this and sympathy too? This man was too dangerous for words!

He suspected it was a picnic to surpass any picnic she’d ever had. Lobster, crunchy bread rolls, butter curls in a Thermos to keep them cool, a salad of mango and avocado and prawns, lemon slivers, strawberries, tiny meringues, a bottle of sparkling white wine…

‘This is enough for a small army,’ she gasped as he spread a blanket over a sandy knoll overlooking the sea.

‘I doubt the royal kitchen appreciates the concept of enough. Do you think you can make a dent in it?’

‘I’ll do my best,’ she said and proceeded to do just that.

She concentrated on eating, as if it was really important. It probably was, he conceded. She’d missed last night’s dinner and this morning’s breakfast, but she probably didn’t need to concentrate quite as hard as she was.

She seemed nervous, and that made two of them. Last night had left him floundering, and quite simply he didn’t know how to go forward. This was a woman unlike any other. A widow. A woman with a past, but a woman who was facing the future with courage, with humour and with love.

Quite simply, she left him awed. And now…He felt as if he were treading on eggshells, and he was already sure he was squashing some.

In the end it was Elsa who broke a silence that was starting to seem strained. ‘So tell me about the island,’ she ventured. She was lying on the rug looking out to sea. She was on one side of the rug, he was on the other and the picnic gear was in between. It was starting to seem a really intrusive arrangement. But it’d be really unwise to change it, he thought. No matter how much he wanted to.

‘I’ll show you the island,’ he told her. ‘When you’ve finished lunch I’ll give you a quick tour. It’s far too big to see in a day-but I do want to give you some impression of what we’re facing.’

‘We?’

‘Hey, you offered to help,’ he said and then smiled at her look of panic. ‘But no, Elsa, relax. I meant we as in all the islanders.’

She managed a smile in turn. ‘Not we as in the royal we? Not we as in, “We are not amused”?’

‘No.’

‘So there’s still nothing for me to do.’

‘There is.’ He hesitated, trying to figure a way to say what needed to be said. He couldn’t. But still it needed to be said.

‘There are three things,’ he said at last. ‘Some time before I go back to Manhattan-before the end of the month-I’d like to take you to Athens. I want you to buy a dress for the coronation.’

It was such an unexpected request that she looked blank. It was left to him to explain-why he’d woken at three this morning and thought he had to do this. He’d fit it into his schedule somehow.

‘I want you to have a gown that’ll do justice to your role on the island,’ he said simply. ‘I want you to stand by Zoe’s side at the coronation and look royal yourself. You’re her guardian. I’ll stand by her side as Prince Regent but you’re guardian to the Crown Princess. You should be received with equal honour.’

There was a lengthy silence at that. Then, ‘A dress,’ Elsa said cautiously. ‘You mean…not a nice nannyish dress with a starched collar and Nanny embroidered on the breast.’

‘I had in mind more a Princess Di dress. Or a Princess Grace dress. Something to make the islanders gasp.’

‘Yeah, right,’ she said dryly.

‘Yeah, right? That would be two positives? That means you agree?’

‘That means there’s no way I agree.’

‘I wish it,’ he said.

‘Oooh,’ she said. ‘Is this insubordination?’

‘Elsa…’

‘Sorry.’ She managed a shaky smile. ‘It’s an amazing offer.’ She shook her head, as if shaking off a dream. ‘But it’s nuts. For one thing, you have way too much to do to be taking me shopping. How could you possibly justify putting off your surgical lists for something so crazy? And second…The clothes you’ve already arranged for me are bad enough.’

She faltered then, her colour fading as she realised what she’d said. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘I mean…they’re lovely and I’m very grateful, but…I don’t know how to explain. This is me, Stefanos. I might be changing direction but I’m still me. I don’t do Princess Di or Princess Grace. Please. Let me keep being Elsa.’

‘You can be Elsa in a couture gown.’

‘Yeah, right,’ she said again. ‘But no. So okay, that’s sorted. What next? What else did you want to talk to me about?’

‘It would give me pleasure to see…’

‘No.’ Flat. Definite. ‘You’re royalty and I’m not. Let’s move on.’

Uh-oh. He wasn’t having much luck here, and the next one was more important. Maybe he should have voiced it first. Except when he’d thought this all through in the middle of the night, the thought of taking her shopping had distracted him. It was still distracting him.

Maybe now, though, he needed to get serious.

‘It’s not just shopping,’ he said softly. ‘I’d like you to see an orthopaedic surgeon in Athens. I want you to get your hip repaired.’

‘Now?’ she said, astounded.

‘Now,’ he said. ‘You’re in pain.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are. The pin in your hip hasn’t held. You need a complete joint replacement.’

Uh-oh, he thought, watching her face. Maybe he’d gone about this the wrong way.

She stood, staggering a little as she put weight on both feet, but she righted herself fast. Her eyes were flashing fire. ‘How do you know,’ she said, carefully enunciating each syllable, ‘that the pin hasn’t held?’

‘I rang Brisbane.’

‘You rang Brisbane.’ The fire in her eyes was suddenly looking downright explosive. ‘You mean you rang my treating doctor?’

He was suddenly in really dangerous territory. This woman might change direction at will but she was never going to be compliant or boring or…or less than the Elsa he was starting to have enormous respect for.

Respect? Respect didn’t begin to cover what he was feeling.

‘You wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong with your hip,’ he said, trying to sound reasonable, but he was wrong-footed and he knew it. He’d wanted to sound caring and concerned and…maybe even magnanimous. Instead, suddenly he was feeling unprofessional and interfering and about the size of a rather small bug.

‘So you just asked,’ she said, and her anger was starting to make her stutter. ‘You thought you’d just ask my doctor what was wrong with me. How did you do that? Did you say, “Hi, Doctor, this is a casual acquaintance of one of your patients. Could you tell me what’s wrong with her hip?” Or…“This is Prince Stefanos Leandros Antoniadis from Khryseis and I order you to hand over my servant’s medical records.” Or…’ She paused for breath. ‘Or, “This is Doctor Antoniadis and I have a woman here who can’t even get up the stairs without limping so can you send me her records-as one professional to another”.’

‘It wasn’t like that. Elsa, I owe you so much.’ He’d risen to face her. Now he tried to take her hands, but she wrenched them away as if he were poison ivy.

‘You owe me so much that you can’t even grant me privacy?’ she demanded.

‘I have to know what’s wrong with you. Zoe depends on you. We need to get it fixed before I leave.’

‘Before you leave…It’ll take weeks. Months, even. A week in hospital and at least a month in rehabilitation. When you get back from Manhattan, when things are settled, when Zoe’s happy, then I’ll think about it. Maybe. Possibly. But it’s my business. Mine, Stefanos.’

‘Zoe will cope…’

‘Zoe will not cope. I will not ask it of her. Now, what’s the third thing?’

‘I don’t think it’s wise…’

‘I don’t think any of this is wise,’ she said. ‘But ask me anyway.’

‘It can wait.’

‘I might not be speaking to you tomorrow. Tell me now.’

‘It was just…’ Hell, he’d messed this. He’d messed this so badly. He wanted to back off but she was waiting, breathing too fast, and he knew that not to finish it would make it even worse than it already was. The third request…

‘It’s none of my business.’

‘So tell me and let me decide.’

He hesitated. But he did need to get to know this woman. Even as her employer, he should know her.

‘I’d like you to tell me about Matty.’

‘Matty.’

‘Your husband.’

‘You think I don’t know who Matty is?’ She seemed almost speechless.

‘Of course you do. I’m going about this the wrong way but yesterday…I didn’t even know how he died. I should have asked you about him and I’m so sorry I didn’t. Matty was your husband and you loved him. He must have been really special.’

Speechless didn’t begin to describe how she was feeling. What was it with this man? He’d brought her here for a picnic. He’d fed her lobster and wine-and then he’d talked of buying her ball dresses and phoning her doctor and now he wanted to talk about her dead husband.

Her head was hurting. Her hip was hurting.

She wanted to hit him.

Count to ten, she told herself. Come on, Elsa, you can cope with this.

Personally, Stefanos had overstepped the mark. The knowledge that he’d phoned her doctor and found out information was huge-it threatened to overwhelm her. But that was personal.

Asking her about Matty was personal.

This man was her employer. Nothing else.

So why not tell him about Matty?

It was too confusing. How could she tell him about Matty without betraying Matty? Yet how could the act of telling him about Matty be a betrayal? Unless…unless…

It was far too hard.

‘Take me back to the palace, Stefanos,’ she said wearily. ‘I’m sure you have work to do.’

‘But…’

‘I have work to do too,’ she said. ‘If I can’t help rule your island, then I’ll just have to go back to starfish.’

‘There are some great starfish…’

‘How many times do I have to tell you-I hate starfish,’ she snapped bitterly, irrationally, and shoved the picnic basket aside and lifted the picnic rug and shook it. And if the sea breeze just happened to be blowing in the direction of Stefanos…well, the gods must have meant him to get a face full of sand.

But his phone was ringing and he was retrieving it from his pocket. He didn’t seem to notice she was throwing sand at him like a two-year-old having a tantrum.

Frustrated, she folded the rug nicely and gathered the gear together and waited for him to finish.

‘Of course I can do it. No, you know I promised. From now on, this is what I do.’

‘What?’ she said as he snapped his phone shut.

‘A two-year-old with croup,’ he said. ‘In the village near here. Would you mind if we stopped on the way back? Though…it’d mean you miss out on your rock pools.’

Okay, enough of the tantrums. She pulled herself together.

‘My rock pools can wait. Of course they can. Croup? Are you working already?’

‘Our island doctor has more work than he knows what to do with. I’ve told him I’ll start helping at once. We’ll get more medical staff here before I leave, but for now…He’s stuck in a clinic on the far side of the island and the child’s mother has newborn twins at home and isn’t well herself. It’s probably just reassurance. If you can wait…’

‘Of course I can wait,’ she said remorsefully. ‘I’m not really a brat.’

‘I know you’re not a brat. You’re…’ He hesitated. ‘No. Let’s just go.’

The drive to the village was done in silence. Stefanos was feeling just about as low as it was possible to feel.

This morning it had seemed a good idea-sensible, even-to take Elsa to the beach. He’d decided to show her he wasn’t born a prince-that they had more in common than she thought. He’d offer her a beautiful dress, a shopping trip to Athens. He’d have to push to find time to do it but she needed some sort of gesture to show how much he appreciated her care of Zoe. And…it hadn’t escaped his mind that watching Elsa buy a beautiful gown might be a whole lot of fun for him too. Time out for both of them.

The other things had been added because they were also starting to feel urgent. Every time he noticed her limp now he felt bad. And he needed to find out about Matty.

Okay, the last wasn’t essential, but it seemed essential to him-more and more. He didn’t fully understand why-it was simply the way Elsa was making him feel.

So he’d set his plan in place and, in doing so, he’d alienated her just about as far as he possibly could.

Good one, he told himself, feeling something akin to pond scum. Only pond scum might have more self-respect.

He knew the place he was going. He drove slowly through the nearby village and hesitated. ‘Do you want to come with me? Would you mind staying in the car?’

‘I’m happier here,’ she said, motioning to the village street. ‘I’ll poke around and talk to people. That looks a nice peaceful little park. If you take hours, don’t worry; I’ll be under a tree asleep.’

Once again she’d taken his breath away. He thought of the women he’d taken out before-colleagues, New York singles, women who were smart and savvy and stood up for what they wanted.

So did Elsa, he thought, but only when it was needed. Now…she’d made no fuss, she’d released him from any pressure and he knew instinctively that if it took hours she wouldn’t fuss at all.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

‘Stefanos?’

‘Yes?’

‘I might need a bit of money,’ she said diffidently. ‘I don’t have any local currency and it’s been so long since lunch…I might need an ice cream.’

And how good was that, he thought as he drove away. Without any more pressure she’d ensured she had enough money for phone calls and help if he really didn’t come back for her.

Only she needn’t doubt that. He’d definitely come back for her.

The old doctor was right-the little boy was suffering mild croup, easily handled at home. What was needed was reassurance and his mother got that in spades, just by Stefanos’s presence.

‘Our Prince,’ the young mother said, over and over. ‘Here in my kitchen.’

He smiled and cradled one of her twins and shared a cup of tea with her. As the two-year-old slid into sleep, the young father came home, reacted with awe that Stefanos himself had come, decided his wife obviously needed more support if the Prince himself suggested it and, before he knew it, the children’s aunt was unpacking a suitcase in the spare room, fast enough to also join the Prince in yet another cup of tea.

There was nothing to this family medicine, Stefanos thought with wry humour, though his house calls might well need to get a bit faster.

Could he be content with family medicine?

It had its own skills. He was out of date. He’d have to brush up on his general medical knowledge, but he would. It could give him satisfaction. If only…if only the work he’d been doing wasn’t so imperative.

Elsa wasn’t in the park, but he found her easily. She was standing in front of the butcher’s shop, happily licking an ice cream cone, reading the literature in the shop window. With her gorgeous bare legs, her flyaway curls, her ice cream, she stood out like a sunbeam.

‘Hi,’ she said as he climbed out of his car to join her. Maybe he should get himself a less conspicuous car, he thought ruefully. These wings were crazy. The locals were staring at the car and starting to cluster.

‘How goes your patient?’ she asked.

‘All cured.’

‘Really?’

‘I’m a fabulous doctor,’ he said modestly. ‘I prescribed one aunt and lo, the problem’s solved.’

‘Do they sell aunts in bottles?’

‘Sure they do. Can we go?’

‘Um…maybe. But have you seen this?’ she asked, licking her cone with care.

Woman-cum-eight-year-old. She made him feel…

See, that was the trouble. He didn’t know how he felt. This was something new, something frightening, something he didn’t know what to do with.

‘Is this beach far?’ she asked.

‘What beach?’

‘Read the poster,’ she said with exaggerated constraint.

He read the poster. It was handwritten, big and to the point.

Turtles hatching. Kemp’s Ridley. Lagoon Tempio. Urgent assistance needed-now! Helena.

‘Do you know where Lagoon Tempio is?’

‘I…yes.’

‘Can we go?’ she asked. She took a final lick of her cone, decided against more and tossed the remainder in a nearby bin.

‘You want to go to this beach?’ he said cautiously, aware that the eyes of many people were on him.

‘Yes.’ To his astonishment, she was suddenly deadly serious. She wiped her hands on her hips and faced him square on. ‘Please.’

He stared at the sign. It made no sense. ‘Who’s Kent Ridley?’

‘Kemp’s Ridley. Lepidochelys kempii. It’s the smallest and most endangered of the world’s sea turtles. And they breed together. All the females nest on the one night so hatchings are huge. If it’s really Kemp’s Ridley…I can’t imagine it is, but please, Stefanos, I need to go.’

The sudden passion in her voice stunned him. The vibrant excitement. ‘Didn’t you tell Zoe you’d be back by four?’ he said, astounded at the change in her.

‘I told you I told Zoe I’d be back by four,’ she said impatiently. ‘I was scared you meant a spot of seduction. Stefanos, we need to hurry.’

There was a snort from behind them. The onlookers were close enough to hear. This was a busy shopping street in the middle of the afternoon and every person here knew who he was. Maybe they didn’t know who Elsa was-but they were surely interested.

She’d just made them a whole lot more interested. So many people spoke English these days, he thought.

‘Elsa…’

‘Okay, I know you didn’t want to seduce me,’ she conceded. ‘You just wanted to ask me a whole lot of questions I failed to answer. But I wasn’t to know that. So I’m safe but the turtles aren’t. If whoever wrote this poster…Helena?’

‘Helena’s my mother,’ a voice volunteered, and Elsa turned with eagerness.

‘Your mother?’ She’d slipped easily and fluently into Greek. ‘Your mother is saving turtles?’

‘They started hatching this morning,’ a middle-aged man wearing a butcher’s apron told her. ‘My mother’s excited, too. These turtles used to come here in large numbers-the mass nesting is called an arribadas, my mother says-but forty years ago scientists and tourists were coming to see so the King bulldozed the beach. It broke my mother’s heart. But this year…This year they’ve come back. She wants me to help but I have my shop. I put her sign up in my window but it was all I could do.’

‘Does she have helpers?’

‘I sent my boy down to help her,’ the man told her. ‘But there are so many birds…My mother can only save a few.’

‘Stefanos,’ Elsa said and fixed him with a look he was starting to recognise.

‘Yes?’

‘As far as I know, there’s only one known nesting ground and that’s in Mexico. To have a Kemp’s Ridley hatching ground right here, where I can help…There’ll be a million predators feasting on them. Stefanos, we need a royal decree or something.’

‘A royal decree?’ he said blankly,

‘We have to save those turtles.’ She took a deep breath. Steadied. ‘Stefanos, if you help me save the turtles, then I’ll…I’ll…I’ll even let you buy me a Princess Grace dress.’

There was a ripple of stunned laughter through the crowd. More and more people were clustered around them now, with more arriving every minute. This was their Prince Regent. And the Princess’s nanny.

‘So what do we need?’ he said simply.

‘People. Lots of people.’

She was speaking with passion, and she was waiting for him to act.

People.

‘The school,’ he said.

‘What about the school?’

He turned to the crowd. ‘Is the school bus available?’

‘It’ll be taking the schoolchildren home,’ someone told him. ‘It should be back here in a few minutes.’

‘Who’s in charge of it?’

‘My son,’ someone else called.

‘Okay,’ Stefanos said. ‘I’m commandeering the school bus. Can you tell your son that I’ll pay him double the going rate to transport any islander and any child to Lagoon Tempio? There’s as much ice cream as they can eat for a week for anyone who comes there.’ He grinned at the ice cream vendor. ‘I’ll reimburse you, and I’ll also reimburse you for closing the shop now. That goes for anyone who wants to help.’ He glanced at the butcher. ‘Phillip, can we set up a barbecue on the beach? If we’re going to get people there we need to feed them. Can you contact the baker and Marios at the café? I’ll reimburse you for anything anyone eats or drinks tonight. Portia…’ he turned to another woman standing by a battered Jeep ‘…can you take Dr Murdoch there now? I’ll pay you for your trouble. By the way, everyone, this is Dr Murdoch-a marine biologist who also happens to be the best thing that’s happened to this island for a long time. Elsa, I’ll organise things here. I’ll phone the palace and ask that Zoe be brought down to join us.’

He smiled at Elsa. She was all fire and pleading and pure adrenalin, wide-eyed with excitement. He put his finger to his lips and then he placed his finger on hers. ‘Let’s do this together,’ he said and he smiled. ‘If only because I really want to see you in that dress. And I’m so sorry I upset you. Okay, everybody, let’s go save some turtles.’