MAID FOR A PRINCE: (Book 1) (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way) (10 page)

“Two weeks.” By that time she should be certain that her and Darius’s first time together hadn’t evolved into anything…irreversible. “I’ve been in your country a few weeks now,” Helene went on. “I worked at a taverna and stayed with a family downtown.” She threw a glance at her knapsack. “I’ll pick up the rest of my stuff tomorrow.”

“You have nothing else to wear?”

“Does a sarong and swimsuit count?”

“We’re something of the same size.” Tahlia found her feet. “I’ll have clothes brought around straight away.”

Wow
. “That’s incredibly generous.”

“It’s my pleasure. And I’ll come again tomorrow while Darius is busy with his work, and we can read that story.” Tahlia crossed to the door. “Let’s hope we get that happy ending.”

An hour later, feeling brave enough to scout around a little, Helene swung open her quarters’ door. Darius stood the other side of the ornate framework, his hand raised, ready to knock. He arched a brow.

“Going somewhere?” His gaze dropped to take in her recently acquired attire. “Nice dress.”

When the clothes Tahlia promised had arrived, there’d been so many gorgeous outfits to choose from, as well as a pair of jeans. After trying on half a dozen combinations, Helene had opted for a sky-blue jersey wrap-around.

She smoothed the cool fabric draped over her hips. “I was about to go exploring.”

His fingertips trailed up her arm. “I’ll tag along.”

They traveled down the long hallway, descended the grand staircase, and wandered through an enormous room with an elevated domed ceiling painted ultramarine and dotted with gold stars. Along the way, they passed several curious house staff who might have liked to ask questions but only averted their gazes. Finally, she and Darius emerged from the solemn palace walls into wide open spaces and sunshine. Strips of manicured lawn, divided by exquisite perfumed gardens, rolled out before them.

Helene breathed in air fragrant with the scent of orange blossoms then glanced across to study Darius’s classic profile. The thrust of his chest, the gleam in his eye, said he was both at home here and immeasurably proud. The more she got to know him, the more she understood that he was all about protecting what had been handed down and entrusted to his care. This palace. The throne. Tahlia.

No doubt his own family when he had one.

“I met your sister,” Helene said as they headed down the lawn.

He grinned. “I’d guessed.”

“She didn’t mention Otis.”

“I’m amazed.”

Helene warred with herself then let him know. “She doesn’t think you listen to her. She’d like you to understand her.” 

“I’d like to, too. But I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” When his brows knitted, she held her breath then pushed on. “Can’t you try to let her in a little more? Listen to who she is. Who she wants to be.”

“A teenager who wants to play house.”

“Well, they’re both adults.”

“She’s too young to understand the consequences.”

“Of having a boyfriend?”

“Of having sex.” When Helene pulled up, he stopped too. Facing her, he folded her hands in his. “Eighteen is too young for a person to know what she wants.”

“Maybe. But it’s up to that eighteen-year-old to decide for herself.”

They were circling an enormous Renaissance-inspired fountain at the far end of the garden when Darius spoke again. “My uncle contacted my office while I was away. He wants to attend the coronation.”

“Isn’t he in exile?”

“I can revoke that. But I’m not sure I should.”

“If your father were alive, would he finally mend the fences?”

“I wondered the same thing. And I honestly don’t know. He wasn’t the forgiving type.”

“Well, you’re the boss now. It’s your decision.”

In the golden afternoon sunshine, he stopped, and then tugged her into his arms. His lips closed over hers and her bones turned to Jell-O. The longer he kissed her the more she melted, until her mind was mush and her body was a furnace. She didn’t know where she ended and he began.

Slowly, their lips parted but the haze didn’t lift. 

“Like I was saying…” she murmured. “You’re the boss.”

His lidded gaze focused on her lips. “I’ve organized food to be brought to your quarters. Are you hungry?”

“What are you offering?”

“Along with the finest delicacies and wine, a side order of this.”

When his mouth captured hers again, her whirling brain could come up with only two words.
Yes, please
.

She’d never felt so content, so happy, so open to giving her heart…

Which meant it was time to pull back, regroup, and get a grip. No matter how wonderful this union, if she was thinking in terms of giving her heart away to a prince, chances were that she’d end up having it broken.

Later that evening, she and Darius dined with Tahlia in a formal gold-trimmed room that had numerous staff serving an array of exquisite traditional dishes. Throughout the meal, Tahlia was conversational, sweet, and bright. The room was filled with laughter and stories, which included explaining how Helene had come to be on the island, although Darius brushed over the part about how hiring her to perform light duties had culminated into something more personal.

It was the perfect time for Tahlia to bring up Otis. Only she didn’t.

After dessert, when the younger woman rose and said goodnight with an air of dignity that belied her age, Helene felt both disappointed and relieved. Guess poor Tahlia didn’t want to upset their guest’s first night at the palace, although she shouldn’t need to feel that way. Any woman had the right to live her life any way she pleased. If Tahlia wanted to defer her studies to spend time with the person who made her feel incredibly special, well, she was only human.

More and more, Helene loved being with Darius. He could be romantic. At times he made her actually swoon. But at his heart lived a true pragmatist—like Vasily Senior, she guessed. Darius firstly did what needed to be done, and then he fit in the personal if there was room.

Later, they returned to her quarters and made love into the night. When he slept, she snuggled up into his hard heat, feeling him breathe while the tips of her fingers stroked his chest.

In the morning, a rap on the main door dragged Helene from her dreams. Alone in the huge bed, she stretched out, smiling as she remembered Darius and what they’d share last night. When the knock came again, she roused herself properly, grabbed a robe and, rubbing her eyes, hurried to open the door.

A girl, perhaps sixteen, presented a long-stemmed yellow rose along with a note:
Join me in the pavilion. DV
. Bringing the bloom close, she inhaled its perfume then quickly changed and was led through the palace maze. When the girl finally bowed off, Helene spotted Darius sitting beneath the soaring ceiling of a magnificent gilded-roofed pavilion. A bevy of dishes were laid out on a table before him.

As if sensing her, he set down the papers he was studying and found his feet at the same time as his gaze found hers. His smile was as bright as the morning sun rising behind him.

She crossed over. He dropped a kiss on her brow and a uniformed attendant pulled out a chair.

“You didn’t wake me when you left,” she said, looking over the array of food and sighing. Her waistline would suffer after two weeks of this.

“You make certain noises when you’re sound asleep.” Seated again, he flicked out a linen napkin. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Certain noises? “Are you saying I snore?”

He leaned in close enough to steal a kiss. “Not badly. Not all the time.” She slapped his hand, and he pulled away laughing. “I thought you’d enjoy sharing a decent breakfast your first morning here.”

As an attendant filled her cup with steaming coffee, she reached for a pastry and teased, “Work not holding your attention?”

“I’ll admit, you are a distraction.” Grinning, he pulled down a mouthful of coffee. “So, how do you plan to fill in your day?”

“If you’re going to be busy…”

“I am. Until early afternoon.”

“I’ve invited Tahlia over.”

He looked vaguely suspicious. “You two are getting along well.”

“I understand her.”

He seemed to consider that before asking, “And what do you two girls have planned?”

“We’re going to read those pages I found in the villa.”

“That should take three minutes.”

“I found more.”

He studied her with a faint grin. “You didn’t tell me.”

“It was a last minute thing.”
Very last minute.
“I’ll take good care of them.”

He winked at her. “I’m sure you will.”

“I also might visit Alexio and his family.” She sucked the creamiest pastry custard she’d ever tasted off her thumb. “I didn’t see him when we came in. I’ve left a couple of messages now but haven’t heard back. I want to let him know I won’t be going back to work for him.”

Darius’s chin went up. “So you’ll go home when you leave here?”

Hadn’t they already discussed that? “On a high note, remember?”

As soon as she knew…knew for sure.

She changed the subject. “Have you put the figurine away?”

Darius threw a glance over his shoulder and, with a nod, asked the attendant to leave them alone. Clearly he didn’t want anyone to overhear them speaking about the goddess.

“She’s still in my room,” he said.

“In that case?”

“In an alcove.”

Helene smiled from ear to ear. “You’re not going to lock her away, are you.”

“I haven’t made up my mind what to do with her yet.”

Helene leaned over and cupped his clean-shaven jaw in both hands. “I know she’s precious but special things deserve to be admired.” She tipped back. “Just saying.”

A thoughtful smile eased across his face before he pushed back his chair and dropped a kiss on her brow. “Can you find your way back?”

“I’ll manage.”

He arched a teasing brow. “Don’t get up to any mischief.”

She crossed her heart. “Promise.”

On her way back to her rooms, Helene asked the attendant to contact Tahlia and ask if she could drop by. She’d thought about bringing the pages down to the pavilion so they could enjoy the fresh air and sunshine, but she was paranoid a breeze might catch a corner and whisk a sheet into one of those fountain pools.

Tahlia arrived at the same time Helene opened her quarters’ door. She looked a little flushed.

“Have you been running?” Helene asked as she closed the door behind them.

“Not exactly.”

Tahlia walked over to a window—the one that peered directly out over the stables. Helene joined her. Below, a young man played with Ajax, throwing a stick and laughing as he rough-housed the dog whenever he brought it back.

“Someone special?” Helene asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Tahlia’s chest rose and fell on a sigh. “Isn’t he wonderful? Ajax adores him.”

“Sounds as if you adore him, too.”

Tahlia looked at her from beneath those thick lashes and offered a secret smile, but she didn’t elaborate. Instead, she looped her arm through Helene’s and ushered her back to sofa, to those pages.

“I’m dying to read this,” Tahlia said. “After hearing the story of how you two met on that island, perhaps you should write your own.”

But who would believe it?

At dinner the night before, when Darius had explained the circumstances surrounding their unconventional introduction, he hadn’t mentioned the cave-in, or anything about the figurine, which left Helene feeling a little awkward. If there was any other person in the world who deserved to know that the goddess truly did exist—that she was in fact right here within the palace walls—it must be Tahlia.

When they were seated side by side on the sofa, Helene handed Tahlia the first few pages and straightened the remaining sheets—the ones she’d found in the desk and hadn’t yet read.

“I’ll pass them over as I finish each one,” Helene said. But Tahlia didn’t appear to be listening. She was already immersed in the story.

Settling back, Helene dived in again, too. In front of a rioting crowd, some unknown woman had just thrown herself off a palace balcony.

ᵿᵿᵿᵿᵿ

Princess Acadia slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her horrified scream. The new queen had said she only wished to talk to the people gathered outside. She’d wanted to assure them of her affection, offer them her deepest regard. No one had expected her to make the ultimate sacrifice and douse those raging fires with her own blood.

A collective gasp escaped the crowd at the same time Acadia’s brother rushed to the balcony. A moment later, his anguished cry roared through the night while the wispy curtains waved in the breeze like a pair of angel’s wings saying good-bye.

Her heartbeat galloping high in her chest, Acadia knew she must act. Take control. But as her brother’s wails withered, she found she couldn’t move. To her bones she knew that tonight one life would not be enough.

She heard a voice—her nephew’s nurse, the same woman who had cared for Acadia and her brother when they, too, had been young. Acadia’s gaze shifted lower. In the nurse’s arms lay the little prince suckling a thumb as he slept.

“You must leave,” the nurse said. She shot a glance toward those doors and held the six-month-old tighter still. “The mob is quiet now but they will stir and rise again.”

When trouble had started much earlier that day, the four had gathered in this room. Guards stood firm outside the door as they did on the grounds down below, but the nurse was right. The madness would bubble and grow again. This child’s life was in danger, not to mention the king’s.