His Princess in the Making (10 page)

She closed her eyes, fighting temptation. “Do you know how it felt for me, lying there all night waiting for you to come home, my head filled with visions of what you were doing with them?”

He tried to pull her to him, but she stood so stiff in his arms, he let go. “There hasn’t been a woman in three years, Giulia. It was too empty,” he said huskily behind her ear. “One night I knew I’d rather be cooking and cleaning with you than touching any of them. Why do you think I never dated anyone seriously? It was you, always you. With just one word from you, I’d have been yours for life.”

“How was I supposed to believe that when girls as pretty and fun as they were couldn’t hold you?” She shuddered, reliving the memory. “No man ever wanted me, and you were with beautiful girls who threw themselves at you all the time. How could I believe you wanted me when you were
intimate
with them?”

He went so still, she felt his heart beating behind her. “Oh, dear God, I did that to you? I made you feel ugly and unwanted?”

Her head fell. She couldn’t say it, couldn’t bring herself to hurt him.

He snatched her into his arms, kissing her face, her lips, even when she didn’t respond. “Oh, my darling, beautiful girl, my love, my Giulia, what the hell have I done to you?”

Unable to bear the exquisite, bittersweet touch, she turned
her face again. “It’s not your fault. You tried your best to make me believe I was beautiful.”

“But I never showed you I wanted you. So, when you knew I was with other women, it negated everything I told you, made everything empty—turned my words into nonsense, as you called it.”

She couldn’t bear to look at him. She looked at her fairyland, and wondered why it looked so dark now, so lost. “Yes.”

“It’s why you don’t believe me now when I say how much I want you.”

Her nails were digging into her palms with the physical effort to not hold him, comfort him and tell him it was all right, because it never would be again. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry, beloved, so stupidly and wretchedly sorry.” Toby buried his face in her hair. “I devoted my life to making you feel beautiful and loved, and destroyed it without even knowing. If I’d told you how I felt, if I’d never looked at another woman, you’d be my wife now.”

“Probably.” She sighed. “Maybe it wouldn’t have worked for us anyway.” Unable to stand being so close, she gently broke away from him. “We should go back. Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

Neither of them spoke as they left their little Neverland behind, turning their faces back to reality.

The numbness left Lia within minutes as her heart became swamped by the sad irony that he’d always been hers, but could and would never
be
hers. With all her heart, she wished Dr Evans had never spoken to Toby—but he had, and ten years of silence on both their parts had led to nothing.

How many signs had she missed through the years? He’d learned to dance for her; how many brothers did that?
Did Charlie?

He’d read her novels, and adopted the formal speech of the heroes she adored.

He’d learned to cook, but he’d rarely done it alone, unless she was exhausted. He might come home first, but he’d get out the ingredients and wait for her so they could do it together.

A universal truth she’d heard in a movie came back to haunt her:
men and women can’t be friends.
All these years she’d wanted him, he’d wanted her too.

I never made love to them the way I wanted to make love with you. Only you.

Believing in a fairy-tale ending for them risked not only his life, but the lives of innocent people—her people—and still she couldn’t stop herself dreaming.

“You’re thinking about it too,” he murmured as she led him back to the cave, the doorway to the passages. “Every time you think of how it could be for us, your breath hitches.”

She slipped in past the vines and half-sheltering rock to the cave. “Don’t,” she murmured, even her voice shaking with need. “I—I need my friend now.”

“You’ll always have me,” he said quietly. “Whatever you want from me is yours for ever. Whether we become lovers, whether you marry me or not, I am always your friend. You never need to question that. I’ll always come to you when you need me. For the rest of my life I’ll be what you need…friend or lover.”

Lover.
Ah, that magnificent word, but it was magnificent only when he said it. It was unbearably filled with wonder when it came from the one man she wanted in her life and bed; it offered her the one thing here she did want, because
he
was here.

Nobody would ever know…

“Toby.” The name was pure craving.
“Toby…”

She’d never know if he’d brought her to face him or she’d gone willingly; all she knew was she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers, deep and hot, clinging and tender.

She moaned and wrapped her arms hard around his neck so their bodies twined together as if they were one person. When his tongue touched hers and they joined, she didn’t know if he groaned or she did; she didn’t know if the pain they’d just been through hurt or heightened it. All she knew was this right, splendid, perfect passion.

It was going to happen. Neither of them could stop it; neither wanted to. And her heart sang at the knowledge:
Toby will be my lover.
It made everything—no, it
was
everything. And at last she knew the bliss she’d read about in her beloved novels; she understood why her grandfather had given up his position for the woman he—

She gasped, her head falling back as his lips trailed over the sensitive skin of her throat, slow, hot kisses over her collarbone, the tender valley between her breasts.
“Ah, Toby!”
she cried, moving against his aroused body with a joy so complete she didn’t know where she ended and he began. “Touch me, please touch me.”

A sound ripped from her throat when his thumb brushed her hardened nipples. She grabbed his hand, filled it with her swollen breast. “Ah,” she moaned, writhing as he moved her pullover aside to nibble her shoulder, his hand caressing her breast.

“Breathe, Giulia,” he growled softly, a smile in his voice. “You haven’t taken in air properly in over a minute.”

She gasped in a breath and smiled at him, brilliant with happiness. “Thank you.”

He smiled back, his eyes tender. “Just remember to breathe when we make love, my beloved girl.”

“We’re going to make love,” she whispered, caught in a bliss so poignant she wanted to cry. This kiss, his touch, felt like all her dreams and wishes come to life, all in one hour.

“Yes, we are.” She felt the smile on his lips as he kissed her. “Just as soon as you can tell me one thing.”

She stilled. This wasn’t part of her dreams. A sense of dread filled her. She knew what he’d say, given what she’d told him tonight. “What?”

He looked down at her, the expression a strange mix of soul-deep passion and unmovable resolution. “We’ll make love when you can tell me you truly believe that you, Giulia Maria Helena Costa Marandis, are the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and that I desire you more than any woman I’ve ever known.”

“C
OME
here, boy.”

Toby stifled the urge to laugh. Even King Angelis had never spoken to him with such condescending force—then he realised the King was calling Puck. Despite the servants who walked the dog and fed him daily, despite Giulia’s daily visits, Puck had given his whole heart to the old man who held both their futures in his hands.

Puck slid to a stop from his headlong rush to jump on Toby, turned and rushed back to the King, sitting at his feet. King Angelis smiled and patted the dog’s head.

Toby grinned. He’d been an advocate of Pets as Therapy since he’d seen too many old folk burning down their homes when they became vague. A dog to bark its warning was a life-saving measure—but as far as this protected old monarch was concerned, Puck was perfect. There had never been a dog that needed ordering around more, and with King Angelis coming to terms with losing power, having any creature need his guidance was good for the soul.

“Come in and close the door. We have things to discuss, and I don’t care for outsiders listening in.” When Toby closed the door he barked, “Sit, boy. You’re built like a tree. I don’t want a crick in my neck every time I see you.”

The King wasn’t used to looking up to anyone. Keeping a
straight face, Toby sat. This wasn’t the time to antagonise the old monarch, not when he’d finally made up his mind to break a fourteen-year-old trust…

Papou and Yiayia would understand. They always knew how I loved Giulia.

The King, oblivious to Toby’s inner turmoil, got straight to the point. “Princess Giulia’s maid informed security that she wasn’t in her room this morning. She’s using the secret passages to come to you.”

Toby went cold inside. Damn. Giulia had come to him in the night, after a horrendous day. After she’d rejected Orakis’s latest attempt to woo her, one of her refuges had mysteriously been blown up; four women had been killed. She’d come to him before dawn, white and shaking:
Hold me, Toby; just hold me.

“She had a bad day,” Toby conceded quietly. “She needed comfort.”

“She needs to become stronger if she’s going to live here. She’s not a child, and she can’t go running to you when you’re gone.”

“As unpalatable as it is to you, sire, I’m not going anywhere as long as Giulia needs me,” Toby said bluntly. “She’s crushed beneath the workload of royal life and living in the public eye. She’ll end up back in hospital if you push her any further.”

“If you’re referring to her childhood bout of anorexia, it’s no such thing now. It’s natural for her to be a bit run down with her workload and new life.”

“That’s a common misconception.” Toby handed the King a card from his wallet. “I suggest you have an aide call her specialist. Anorexia nervosa doesn’t end. Vomiting and not eating are stress reactions very few anorexics overcome. She’s lost five kilos since she came here, and at her height that’s in the danger zone.” He held the old man’s eye, setting the scene for his secret. “Dr Evans will tell you I’m the one she needs most at these times. I won’t be the one to break her faith. Will you?”

The King’s jaw jutted. “You tap dance around this well, boy. But the truth is you can’t stay away from her.”

He didn’t bat an eyelash. “I’ve made no secret of my feelings for her.” He waited for the rest. The old man obviously had some steam to let off, some venom to loose; there would be no harm, no foul, if the frustrated monarch threw it his way. He still wasn’t going anywhere.

“You think you’re Romeo and Juliet, like her grandparents did? Yes, I realise you know the story,” he said calmly when Toby’s brows lifted. “It was I that wanted the first Giulia, and she chose Kyri.” He bent to pet Puck for a moment. “I was hurt over the loss, but Hellenia was almost destroyed. The family factions following Kyri’s defection gave the Orakis dynasty an opportunity to foment trouble. Decades of violence followed, thousands perished. The Marandis dynasty almost disappeared.”

Toby stilled. Whatever he’d expected the King to say, it hadn’t been this. “Charlie told me about the threat of war,” he said quietly.

The King nodded. “I know it’s hard on you. I’ve been there. But if I hadn’t stayed, if I hadn’t married a suitable woman and had sons, what would be left of Hellenia?”

The King’s selfless duty filled Toby with compassion. “If it helps, I think they were deeply distressed by the fallout from their choice. They always watched the international news, and when anything about this region showed suffering they’d head to their room and talk for hours.”

The King sighed and shrugged. “They could have come home. It was his father that disowned him, not me. I would have welcomed them back.”

The story unfolding before him was the other side of the truth, the reality behind what he’d always seen as the most romantic story he knew. “I understand how hard it must be for you to hear this, but the man I knew was endlessly unsel
fish and kind. I’ll always be grateful for the wonderful grandfather I knew. And Yiayia was the core of the family,” he said, voice gentle. “Giulia is her grandmother’s child—a Friday’s child, loving and giving.”

“Yes.” A smile hovered on the corners of the King’s lined mouth. “Our Giulia is just like her, shy and wise, dedicated to the people she loves. And she’s needed here.”

“She’s also her grandmother’s child in that she loves a quiet life,” he replied, knowing he was fighting a losing battle; or maybe he’d already lost it.

“You’re looking at the woman you love without seeing her.” The old face held a touch of pity. “I think you’ve been looking after her so long that when you came here and saw what she’s accomplished, how strong she is now, it shocked you.”

Taken aback by the King’s insight, he nodded. “And when I came here and you saw what’s between us you saw a resemblance to the past.”

For the first time, uncertainty shimmered in the rheumy eyes; the words and tone lacked his customary acerbity. “If she leaves, she’ll hate herself for turning her back on her brother and her people to marry a man unquestionably beneath her.”

The truth in that shook Toby, but he refused to show it. “You couldn’t control Papou and Yiayia fifty-five years ago. You can’t control Giulia’s heart and decision by decree, by force, or by inventing death threats against me.” The King’s face turned ashen, confirmation of what he’d suspected. “You might force her to stay here with your fabricated death threats against me, but her heart is already turning from you.”

“So be it, then. I will do what I must for Hellenia.” The shrewd eyes held his. “It’s obvious you think you have some ace up your sleeve, boy. Just say it.”

He’d never have a better opening than this, and he told the King the secret he’d been holding for half his life.

Five minutes later he left the room as quietly as he’d come,
feeling as blank, as devastated, as he had the day Dr Evans had told him he couldn’t give Giulia his heart.

Nothing would change the facts. He was never going to be good enough for the woman who owned his very soul. He could never marry her. Never.

The next night

“This is fun.”

Dressed in the simplest jeans she had in her overcrowded wardrobe and a thick, woolly pullover in her favourite shade of wine-red, her hair tumbling around her face, her skin bathed in moonlight, Giulia was exquisite. Toby caught his breath every time he looked at her. She was smiling as they lay sprawled on a makeshift picnic blanket, his bed blanket.

He’d come knocking on her secret door, as he did every night, and now they lay beneath the cool night sky in their secret dell where a fickle breeze tossed the clouds and stars around and a crackling fire gave the illusion of warmth and intimacy.

He’d set it all up hours before, bringing the blanket and sack of picnic food he’d bought at the village of Arpagos today. He’d also brought a flask of her favourite hot chocolate, a couple of hurricane lamps, and had set stones and wood in a circle for a rough fireplace. She’d gasped in delight when she’d seen it, and her thank-you hug had led to a kiss so hot it had almost made them forget the picnic.

Toby smiled and leaned over to put a third piece of home-made fruit cake in her mouth before he kissed her: the best way to ensure she didn’t protest at the food. She rarely did when they were alone together, especially when she was in her beloved outdoors. “My peasant princess,” he teased, and kissed her again. “Such low tastes.”

She chewed and swallowed the cake, smiling, her fingers
learning the shape of his dimples, tracing the line of his jaw. “I always wanted to touch you like this,” she murmured, glowing, her shining eyes stress free.

He might never be good enough for her, but she still needed him, and the lower-class fireman fought the man in love on a minute-to-minute basis.

“You were always welcome to,” he murmured back, loving the way she made him tingle and ache from head to foot with wonderful, agonised desire.

It had been painful enough before, sensing but never knowing the sensual woman he’d always believed was slumbering inside her: it had been like being able to view paradise from behind prison walls. But now she’d shown him her passion he felt like a walking bushfire, in a constant state of burning, the high wind of her touch fanning the flame, and it was made stronger by being forbidden.

Oh, it was exciting to have their desire always in the subtext of their words, in every hidden look she gave him:
Come to me tonight.

But every kiss awoke the old longings, crushed his noble decision to let her stay in Hellenia. This delicious affair in hiding wasn’t right, wasn’t enough—not with his beautiful Giulia—and it hurt that she didn’t know how she felt beyond wanting him sexually. It hurt that, not even knowing the truth, she’d still put Hellenia above him.

“You look as if you need another kiss.” She fell back on the blanket and pulled him down for a deep kiss.

Soon she was moaning and arching up to fuse their bodies. Her hands slipped under his windcheater, caressing his skin urgently, frantically, and the kiss went on and on. He couldn’t stop it, and she sure as hell couldn’t. She couldn’t keep her hands off him when they were alone. Night after night they met in secret, talking and kissing, the passion ripping to life with a glance. The moment he opened the door to her room,
or she came to his room, she’d bolt into his arms, greedy for his hands, mouth and body.

It was everything he’d ever wanted; it was so right…and so wrong.

He tore his mouth from hers, almost giving in again when he saw her sleepy eyes so dark with desire, her lips swollen. “Tell me, Giulia,” he rasped. “Tell me now, and we’ll make love all night.”

Shutdown, turn-off. From adorable, addictive passion, she seemed a thousand miles from him, staring at him as if he’d betrayed her somehow.

He sighed and rolled off her, wishing he knew how to right old wrongs, how to make her see how lovely she was to him, how irresistible. “Let’s talk.”

“About what? How beautiful I am to you?” She sighed.

The tone told him not to go there, but suddenly he’d had enough of not going there, of never telling her what she needed to know, of her never saying the words he’d give his life to hear. He was tired of walking on eggshells around her damaged self-esteem, when it didn’t seem to help. “It’s a good start.”

Her face turned pale and sad. “Repeating words by rote doesn’t work, Toby. It’s only good for the times tables. You should know that by now.”

He leaned over her, looking in her eyes. “You’re hurting me, Giulia.”

She blinked and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

He got to his feet and turned to the fire to tend it; he couldn’t look at her as he said the words he’d kept locked inside for a decade, but they came out all wrong, filled with bitterness and pain. “You’re ripping the heart from my chest. Damn it, you’ve been my best friend for years—how could you
use
me like I’m your kept man, treating me as if I’m not enough, when you have to know I’m in love with you?”

The silence felt stricken, and yet he felt the doubt shimmering from her like the moonlight bathing her in its radiance. He didn’t speak. For once he refused to fill the silence for her. He stirred the coals of the little fire, waiting.

“You want me to bring us out into the open?” she asked, her voice quivering. “Charlie told you at the wedding that, now I’ve publicly accepted the role of princess, I can’t renounce my position without the agreement of the King and the House of Hereditary Lords, didn’t he? And that I didn’t know it until the night we kissed?”

“Yes,” he said slowly, feeling like a fool. He’d been punishing her for a rejection she didn’t even know about.

Knowing what was coming, and that he deserved it, he waited.

“So you know that, by law, I can’t just go home with you. They all want and believe they need me here. And I
am
needed here, Toby. You’ve seen it. The people need me to stay. The women and children believe I’m their advocate. They trust me not to let them down.”

He picked up some pebbles beside the blanket and began tossing them at a fairy-seat, knocking the moss off in short, savage blows. “I know.”

“So, why are you here with me? Why did you try to be more than my friend that first night in the passage, even here tonight, knowing I no longer have a choice to make?” she said, sounding as hurt as he had before. “Do you want us to disappear like Papou and Yiayia did? It’s not so easy these days, nor so romantic. We’re in the electronic age, Toby. Our faces have been plastered across the world—yours as well as mine. Will you give up your job and life in Australia to be with me? Can you think of a way to become a high lord or a prince so we can bring this out into the open?”

Having seen the constant hoops Charlie had had to jump through to make his people and the current king happy—
having seen Max forcibly engaged to one woman after another, with no say in it—Toby shuddered at the thought.

“No,” he muttered. “But I waited ten years to be with you, Giulia, and I wanted my chance.”