His Princess in the Making (5 page)

When he didn’t move or speak, she pulled away and walked back to the reading table. She picked up her book, and tried to speak as if nothing had happened. “I have another full day tomorrow. I need to sleep.”

“This isn’t over, Giulia.” His voice was as dark as the shadows surrounding him.

“It never started to
be
over, Toby. I love you, but I won’t marry you.” She looked at him, her sorrow too great to hold in. “I know you want to keep me safe and happy. A few months ago I might have said yes—it might have been enough. But I can’t go back. I have a life and responsibilities apart from one small ballet school and my brothers.”

“I’m not your brother.”

She shivered at the dark, lush tone, so inherently sexual, a tone she’d never heard from him until today. “Close enough.” She sighed. “Toby, can we not do this? I have enough to cope with without more stress, more people wanting a piece of me. I’ve been trying so hard to keep the royal family together the past month, the one who stayed calm in the storm.” A hiccup of distress broke from her. “But now it’s official I—I need my best and dearest friend.”

A quiet as deep as the night fell over them. When he spoke, he was gentle once again. “I made a vow ten years ago to be everything you need—and you need me now more than ever. I’m here, Giulia, for whatever you want of me.”

How could she feel so relieved and so absurdly empty and annoyed all at once?
I don’t need you to rescue me!
“Thank you.” She turned to the door.

“I should have said
almost
whatever you want of me,” he added, his voice soft but not gentle, and filled with a meaning that sent piercing desire shivering through her. “I am your friend, and I will be anything else you
want.
” The slightest stress on the word
want
made her shiver again, right down to fingertips. “With one exception.”

Oh, why had the stupid longings come back at a time when they’d never been more useless? She had a choice, neither of which involved what she wanted—unless she turned her back on a heritage that filled her with purpose and strength as much as it terrified her. She couldn’t turn her back on a country and people that needed her.

But she couldn’t stop herself from asking huskily, “What’s that?”

His eyes held hers in a way she’d never seen before today. It was as if he’d taken the skin off his soul, showing her what lay inside. “I’m not your brother, Giulia. I won’t be your brother.”

“Why?” The word burst from her. “You’ve been—been almost…”

“Exactly—
almost.
” His hand curved over her cheek, touching her as he’d always done, except that his eyes were no longer light or friendly, and a tiny moan escaped her. Her head fell back, drinking in the touch; she swayed into him. “We’ve never been brother and sister, even when we wanted to be. We’ve been best friends, we’ve lived together as family, but when we touch like this…” he trailed a finger down her throat, one unbearably perfect touch, and her body glowed and shimmered with the radiance of the desire she couldn’t control “…we both know the truth.”

“Toby,” she whispered, aching, hurting, right down to her fingertips with the yearning for him, for
everything.

“Say it, Giulia,” he whispered back. “Say ‘I want you, Toby,’ and I’ll be your friend and lover, tonight and every night.”

His chest brushed oh so lightly against her breasts, and they swelled at the touch, blissful pain. She gasped.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.” She ripped herself from his arms and bolted.

Toby froze in the warm, late-summer darkness, feeling it envelop him now she was gone. She’d taken the light and sweetness of hope with her, leaving him bruised, his body battered and in physical pain.

She didn’t know.

Her blindness shocked him, her utter stone-blindness to his love. After ten years of showing her in every possible way how much he loved and wanted her, she didn’t even think he found her pretty or interesting.

The doctor’s words of years ago came back to haunt him.

No matter what you say or do, even you, her closest support person, may never know the depth of damage to her self-esteem or how she sees herself.

He leaned against the bookshelf where she’d been, inhaling
the last vestiges of her scent. How had he saved her life, been her best friend so many years, and known her so little? How had she listened to every word he’d said to her for so long, yet never truly grasped their meaning? She’d called his endearments “nonsense.”

At this point, only one thing was clear: he’d shocked her to her core by kissing her today. She honestly hadn’t seen it. She didn’t even see how much he needed her.

If he wanted to win her, he couldn’t take a single thing for granted. He had to start over from scratch, to show her he didn’t just love her, he found her beautiful and desirable—the only woman he wanted.

I’m not a child any more, Toby; I’m a woman!

Ten years dreaming her dreams for her, making her every wish come true, and she’d grown and changed; she’d become a woman before his blinkered eyes. And now she’d gone so far ahead of him he couldn’t see her. Worse, he hadn’t even noticed when she’d left.

The title and tiara were the least of his problems. She loved him, wanted him, but she didn’t
love
him, and didn’t
want
him. After half a lifetime of being everything to her, she’d trusted him with the truth only now, when she believed it was too late.

How long had she been hiding this resentment from him? How long had she wanted a woman’s life, and he hadn’t noticed?

I’m a woman!
The passionate lilt in her voice as she’d said it had both made him harder than he’d ever been, awakened him from ten years of aching love lost inside a mental fog of fear, and made him smile at last. So Max didn’t see her as a woman? She wanted a man to
see
her, to want her as a woman?

As ever, half an hour with her inspired him. With two sentences, she’d shown him the way to opening her guarded and locked heart. She’d even shown him how he could stay in Hellenia, at least for now, how to circumvent the King’s suspicions.

If Hellenia needed healing, he had some plans that just might impress the crusty old king.

And if Giulia wanted a man to show her just how much he wanted her, she was about to get it.

Two weeks later

“I
T
’
S
a truly beautiful country. It’s a shame so much of it has been torn to pieces by the warring factions,” Toby said, sounding deeply thoughtful.

From beside him in the bullet-proof town car, Lia nodded. Every time she visited a new town or village shattered by the Orakis family’s attempts to regain control, she wanted to cry. She felt so helpless, so inadequate to do all that was needed to help this beautiful, medieval country heal its scars.

How ridiculous was it that, by an accident of birth, the only choice Hellenia had for her next leader was a hereditary lord with the destructive tantrums of a two-year-old throwing his blocks, and two Australians who knew no more about ruling a nation than that spoiled baby? If it wasn’t for Jazmine…

“Charlie’s ideas are working very well—the village training system and paying for apprenticeships—and your charities and law repeals for widows, divorced women and orphans are making you a heroine in the nation.”

Lia flushed. “I’m just doing what has to be done. Anyone would have done it.”

“What, giving away a third of your fortune thus far to found refuges for women whose male family members are ex
ploiting them? Using your second ancestral home in Malascos as an orphanage? I doubt five percent of the population would have done that.” He added softly, “Papou and Yiayia would be proud of you.”

Moved by the simple tribute, she smiled, glowing with the praise. She hadn’t felt alone since he’d come here. She had her friend back…but not a brother.

She flushed and looked away at the thought. No, not even
almost
a brother.

“I see why you and Charlie feel needed here.”

Attention arrested, she swung back to face him. He’d been silent on every other trip, unless she’d wanted to talk. He’d returned to being her best and supportive, wonderful friend…almost. And it was the “almost” that made her feel on edge. “Do you?”

As if he understood the turmoil creating storms inside her, he smiled. “Did you think I wouldn’t? I’ve lived with you fourteen years, Giulia. I know your sense of duty, your need to help others if you can. I saw it long before you began volunteer work in the eating-disorder clinic.”

She relaxed. Thank goodness, there were no undercurrents in that comment. But she found herself wondering why there weren’t. “Yes, that’s it. I feel like I’m finally where I’m meant to be.”

“I can see that,” he said softly. “Just because I want you in my arms, in my bed, doesn’t mean I’m not still your best friend, and I’m not blind.”

She stopped the gasp before it emerged, but his voice, the very air around them was filled with a dangerous, warm undertow that terrified her because it made her want so much. Want
him.

He moved a finger, just one finger, just one millimetre, a tiny caress on the sensitive skin beneath her jaw—and she was lost to everything but the thick, heated pounding of her blood,
the want. Her head fell back, only a tiny movement, but she knew and he knew. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t ask him to—couldn’t tear her gaze from his, deep, shadowed face in the gathering dusk surrounding the car. The word was screaming in her mind but her mouth wouldn’t work.
Why?

As if he knew—of course he did—he answered, still filled with the rich, rumpled sensuality his gravelled voice could do so well. “You said you didn’t believe my words, Giulia. So now I’m showing you what I want.”

His finger moved again, trailing down the tender part of her throat. “Golden silk,” he murmured, his gaze following his finger, and she shivered. “I’ve always wanted to touch it.”

And she’d always wanted him to. She wanted that, and so much more. She wanted to curve her hand around his neck and into his dark-and-golden hair. She’d longed to run her fingers through the thick half curls for years, to see the desire in his summer-sky eyes as she touched him. She wanted to pull him down to her, to fall back on the butter-soft leather seating as they kissed. She wanted to feel him on her, feel him hard where she’d always wanted him to be for her…

It was so embarrassing, so humiliating that he could make her like this, lost inside her desires with a single touch, with no power to say a word, let alone “stop.” Even worse that he knew it, had to know it.

“We’re almost back at the palace.” It was all he said, yet the quiver ran down her spine and into her toes, her core. He made it sound as if they stood at the door of a sumptuous hotel, or her bedroom.

When he lifted his hand from her skin, she wanted to cry out in protest.

“Can you speak to the King for me when we return? I think it’s time for a family conclave on what’s best for Hellenia. It’s time to go forward.”

Yanked from her sensuous daydream, she lifted her brows.
Theo Angelis had been icily civil to Toby since that first ten minutes after they’d met, making it clear that what Toby thought and felt about Hellenia was irrelevant.

This should prove to be interesting, to say the least.

“
Toby
wants to call a family conference?” Theo Angelis exploded. “By God, who does he think he is? The boy’s gone too far this time!”

“An
informal
one, Theo Angelis, in the tea room. After dinner, if it suits you.” Lia’s lips twitched before returning to her customary gentleness with the King. She knew him well by now, he was so much like Papou, and Charlie for that matter. He needed the illusion of control to feel safe. It was a rare source of fun watching him trying to lock horns with Toby, who needed no such illusion, had no ego: he just saw what needed to be done and did it with a minimum of fuss.

“You might find what he has to say is interesting, Theo Angelis. He’s been touring the cities and villages the past week with Charlie and Jazmine and I.”

“You’ve been alone with him?” Theo Angelis growled.

It was a strain, but she smiled as she assured him, “I’ve been alone with him for years, and it’s never been a problem.”

“The boy’s shown his hand. He wants to take you back with him.”

It was more of a struggle for her to remain calm than she’d show, but she shrugged. “Of course he does. He’s been estranged from his own family for a long time.” She met the King’s eyes. “He
is
our family, Theo Angelis, and if we care about Hellenia, so does he.”

The King grunted, but his gaze was sharp on her. “He’s going to do whatever it takes to make you return with him. Especially if you show a moment of weakness.”

It was getting harder each day to remain wrapped in the shell of serenity she’d been using since she’d been in the
clinic. Not only was the King suspicious, but spending time with Toby these days was like handling a live grenade. Without warning, he’d give her that look, that smile, and all her strong resolutions and good sense would vanish. Half the time he had to remind her what she’d been saying, or what he’d been saying.

And she spent far too much time wondering why he hadn’t kissed her again.

“What time shall I tell him we’ll meet?” she asked briskly.

“I’m not going to soothe you all. Hellenia’s split in two—the Orakis and Marandis camps. The problem is, the ordinary people are the Marandis power base, and they’re tired of fighting. The Orakis faction seems to thrive on it.” Toby didn’t bother to look around for reactions. “You all know this. What I’m saying is just a prelude. Charlie and Jazmine are clearly on track with what’s needed. Their plans are helping villages and towns to be self-sufficient. Giulia’s plans for widows, divorced women and orphans are falling into place.” He smiled at Giulia, striving for friendliness, but knew he failed: his old self-control, once slipped, was like a broken mask he could no longer fit to his face.

“The last thing the nation needs is more war—but if Orakis doesn’t get what he wants he’ll bring it on. His people are more reactionary than those who love the Marandis royal family—or so it seems. So what the country needs is
defences.
”

As one they all stared at him. He could see the doubt, the confusion in all eyes, except in Giulia’s. The little smile told him she knew what he was going to say, and in her manner of quiet wisdom was willing to wait until last.

“You call a meeting to waste my time giving me unusable solutions?” The King leaned forward in the tapestry-covered wingback chair; his tea cup rattled as he thunked it down on the exquisitely carved chess-table. “I won’t waste money set aside for roads, housing, hospitals and schools on guns!”

“No, Your Majesty, of course not. I’m talking about the
appearance
of defences.” Still standing, as if he felt as much a supplicant as the old man wanted him to feel, Toby smiled at King Angelis. The King stared back, his rheumy eyes hard behind his glasses. “I’ve only been here two weeks. I’m an outsider, an Australian, and not a lord. I’m ignorant of the more important decisions in running a European nation. But Charlie will tell you that one of the first things we learn as firefighters is defence—how to protect ourselves and those we find in fires. And we learn how to teach people how to create defences for the future.” He smiled at his oldest friend. “The same way we learned how to be firefighters before we applied, Charlie.”

To his relief, Charlie nodded, grinning. “I see where you’re going, but the logistics, convincing the treasury to release the funds, are going to be hard.”

Giulia said softly, “They agreed to meet me cent for cent with the shelters. I think it’s possible, if they’re approached the right way.”

The King turned to her. “Jazmine, Max and I would appreciate it if you all filled us in on what you already seem to know, Giulia.”

He spoke in Hellenican Greek, a form of the old Koi. Trying to shut Toby out.

Toby had wondered when he’d try that.

Without missing a beat, Toby replied in the language Papou had taught him with painstaking care after he’d become an official part of the family. “I think if we present a proposal that saved as much money as possible, the treasury would be happy to cooperate. I’m talking about using retired experts—firefighters, builders, plumbers and the like. Teachers for the future, to teach your people how to rebuild the country their own way. Those who know the country best should be the ones to rebuild it.”

The King’s eyes narrowed, knowing he’d been outwitted.
Toby didn’t smile, or acknowledge the win. He knew better than to meet fire with ice. Cool water was the trick here, and not splashed in the King’s face. He was an old man who needed his dignity as his power failed.

“It’s the same basic thought we have, sire—jobs, education, wealth. We teach locals to put out fires, to learn self-defence, to build strategic walls and clear land around villages and towns, so even planning attacks will be harder. Giving the village and townsfolk kids much-needed trades—stonemasonry and carpentry,” Charlie said, with an excited grin. “We can give older tradespeople apprentices, and retired firefighters can teach people how to fireproof their homes to show Orakis that the towns and villages aren’t as vulnerable as he thinks. We can mobilise the ordinary people for defence. They’re used to running and hiding until the violence ends. This time they need something to take pride in, to fight for.”

Giulia turned to Jazmine and the King, encompassing them both in her smile. “Charlie’s right, Theo Angelis. So far we’ve been
re
active, not
pro
active. We’re all working so hard to heal the hurts done by the war, but while it makes the people happy it leaves them passive—and gives Orakis the chance to destroy them again. We show him we’re not putting plasters over the wounds he created, but equipping the people themselves to stand strong and choose the rulers who care enough to give them some power and say in their future.”

Toby had been involved in family dynamics long enough to know when it was time to watch and wait in silence; but, ah, if he hadn’t wanted to kiss Giulia before—and that had been basically all the time—right now he could have grabbed her and kissed her senseless in front of them all. Her quiet, well-chosen words reached down into the hearts of a royal family shattered by war, unable to see beyond the first tasks of healing. If Charlie had taken the bait and run with it, Giulia had given his practical proposal a Hellenican heart and soul.

The conversation took an excited turn. The King wanted to know how many people would participate in the scheme, how many they’d have to import from abroad. Max—whom Toby was beginning to like, despite his best efforts to hate his rival—said he’d go to the Duchy of Falcandis to find out. Charlie said he’d do the same in Malascos. The King told Jazmine to find out the mood of the rest of the nation on the idea, and Jazmine was smiling for the first time in weeks.

“When we have numbers we can go to the Treasury and call a meeting of the Hereditary House of Lords,” the King said as Jazmine wheeled him out of the room, Max right behind them.

At the door, Charlie grinned at Toby. “Grizz, that was inspirational.”

He grinned back and bowed. “I live to serve, Rip, my royal friend.”

Charlie threw a paper clip at him. “I’m off to Malascos tonight. It’s not like anyone needs me here at the moment. With His Majesty’s forty-fifth celebrations in swing, I only seem to be in the way.” He pulled a face. “I’ll be back for the party, of course. I have to show my face, if nothing else is needed.”

So things still weren’t right between Charlie and Jazmine. He’d have to make time for Charlie soon. He’d hoped they could work it out if left alone. God knew he had his hands full trying to find a way to gain Giulia’s trust. Without that, all the wanting in the world was useless.

“What can I do to help?”

Her soft voice, with the slightest touch of kitten-purring, made him realise they were alone. Did she know she only had that intimate touch to her when no one else was around? “You did it already.” He looked over his shoulder at her with the smile he only ever gave her, the smile he only
felt
when he was with her. “You turned my thoughts to reality by convinc
ing the King I’m something more than the man who wants to take you away. You showed him that I care about this place.”