Chapter Nine
Helene had read along as Darius scoured the lines in silence. When he finished, he
set the pages aside and ran a hand through his hair.
“It’s about that rebellion a hundred years ago,” she said and he nodded. “Is there
a Leandros in your more recent history books?”
“It’s a story, Helene.”
“Based on a real event. Do you have any idea who wrote it?”
“None.” His palm traced the top page lying between them on the seat. The only clue
was two initials:
D.D.
“It was obviously some time ago. This room has been used by staff for as long as
I can remember, but I don’t know who slept here fifty years ago. A hundred.” He glanced
at the wardrobe. “Is there more?”
“I poked around. Through the drawers, on the ledge. All through the room. I thought
the rest might be hidden behind a skirting board.” She looked up. “Or the ceiling.”
He grinned. “You want me to rip the room apart?”
“I meant this might be all there is.”
He slid a fingertip over the initials at the top of the page. “I guess D.D. will stay
anonymous and his story unfinished.”
She looked longingly at the pages. What happened to Leandros? Who was the woman who
had plunged to her death?
The distant bray of a wild donkey filtered in and she glanced out the window over
the sun-drenched landscape at the same time Darius found his feet. “Given we can’t
solve that mystery, I vote we go.”
“Go where?”
“For a swim.”
She glanced around the room again. Rummaging through the same places wouldn’t make
more pages suddenly appear. And a swim with Darius did sound appealing. She stood,
too.
“I’ll get my bikini.”
“You won’t need one.”
Before she could object, he grabbed her hand, and they scampered down to the bay.
They’d made love only hours ago. He’d seen her naked—every inch. And she’d sure as
hell seen him. A warm breeze combing his hair, he shucked off his shirt and stepped
out of his trousers, but she hesitated to remove her clothes. He closed the distance
between them and, holding her gaze with his, helped her undress like he’d done that
morning, only this time it was at a less frantic pace. Then, like the couple in those
pages, they moved into the water, letting the coolness swirl around them as their
mouths and bodies slid against one another.
When she turned so that he could wind his arms under her breasts and nuzzle her neck
from behind, his erection rubbed her back. He didn’t take it further. They couldn’t
take back what happened earlier, but they wouldn’t follow this morning’s mishap with
another. They weren’t protected.
Beneath the water, his hands ran over her belly while overhead swallows darted and
played. After a delicious few moments, he spoke against her hair.
“I’ve been thinking about the figurine. It’s overkill taking her in and out of the
safe all the time. If that cave hadn’t fallen in, she’d still be there, balanced on
that ledge.”
If he was thinking about letting her out of that safe and into the light, Helene was
all for it.
“I thought I could leave her out,” he said.
“In your room?”
“In the study, just off the main room. In three days,” he went on as water lapped
around her breasts, “she’ll be packed up soundly and on her way back to the main island.”
“This week’s going fast.” Helene snuggled back into him.
Only three more days…
“Alexio will be missing you at his taverna.”
“I’m sure he’s happy it’s all worked out.”
She hadn’t phoned or texted Alexio since the day she’d met Darius. Through his communication
with the palace, Darius had assured her that Alexio knew about this arrangement. Somehow
she didn’t think Darius or his office would condone a private discussion between Alexio
and her about the prince’s decision to bend the rules and keep her on, which would
explain why he hadn’t texted her back. Alexio wouldn’t want to get any more involved
on that front.
Darius’s palm ran up the side of her throat. His cheek grazed her temple as he asked,
“When you get back, do you plan to stay on at the main island?”
“That first day when we met, after the trouble I put you through, I thought I’d need
to leave on the first boat out.”
That boat would take her to Athens. Once there, she’d take a plane back to the States;
her return trip fare was already covered.
“And now?”
Letting her eyes drift shut and allowing his strength and heat to burrow into her,
she reached back and twined one arm around his neck. “I’m thinking I should leave
Tierenias on a high note.”
After her time here was through.
He hummed an agreement her ear. “I thought the same.”
Remembering the way they’d made love that morning, knowing the way he held her now…
Her chest tightened and her arm slid down. He was gearing up to forget her already?
But, hell, what had she expected? A proposal of marriage?
She had thought he’d at least have wanted to keep her around long enough to be sure
he wasn’t going to be a father.
Or maybe that was it. Maybe he didn’t want to know.
Gathering herself, she injected a light tone into her voice. She wouldn’t let him
know that he’d hurt her.
“So, it’s settled,” she said. “After this week, my extended vacation is over, and
it’s back to getting on with my life.”
“Helene, when I agreed you should leave on a high note, I meant after a stay at the
palace.” He rotated her around to face him. “With me.”
She coughed out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re inviting me…?” To what exactly?
“To stay a couple more weeks
—
knowing, of course, that I’ll have to go into the office most days, and you’ll have
to cope with Tahlia.”
“Your sister?” Her brain lurched and caught up. “Of course I can cope with her. I
feel as if I already know her.”
She felt so stunned, so happy, she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and jump
up and down.
And she was suddenly so hungry for him. Those glittering dark eyes made her heart
beat fast. His hard bronzed body and hands could create such a firestorm in her blood.
Threading her arms around his neck, she pressed her mouth to his. His chest inflated
as he breathed in through his nose, then the strong band of his arms brought her closer,
and his tongue pushed past her lips. That erratic pulse began to beat between her
legs, and the heat in her veins shot up several degrees.
When his mouth left hers, his lidded gaze remained on her lips. His palms slid up
and down her back, and below the water his engorged length dug into her belly.
“We should get back,” he said in a husky drawl. “Don’t bother getting dressed.”
“I can do a skinny dip but I’m not walking naked around the place like it’s the Garden
of Eden.”
Even if it felt more than a little like that today.
“You won’t have to walk.”
He scooped her up and, wading through the cool waters, headed for shore.
…
The next morning, their second to last on the island, Darius wandered off for another
of his solitary walks. For the first time since staying at the villa, Helene felt
restless.
Usually she had no trouble keeping busy. Now as she tidied around the place, her mind
kept wandering back to yesterday’s lovemaking. She kept telling herself there probably
wasn’t anything to worry about. But those doubts kept creeping in.
What if I’m pregnant?
Had Darius asked her to return to the palace so that he could make sure she hadn’t
conceived before they said farewell for good? Of course she would let him know when
her cycle started and they were in the clear. Two weeks ought to do it, if she didn’t
go crazy thinking about it in the meantime.
Later, putting the finishing touches to lunch and still feeling restless, she wanted
to do something a little different. When she’d gone through the bookshelves in the
study earlier in the week, she’d admired a set of goblets in a cabinet. Since watching
Darius set the figurine up in an alcove in that room yesterday, as he’d said he would,
those doors had remained closed. Although he hadn’t expressly forbidden her to go
in, Helene didn’t feel she should.
However, the cabinet with the goblets was clear on the other side of the room near
an old desk. She didn’t need to go anywhere near the figurine—if something bad happened
to the artifact while she was around, Helene would never forgive herself.
She went to the balcony and looked over the paths. Darius wasn’t anywhere close by.
Good
. She’d just duck in and out. She crossed to the study doors. A shiver chased up her
spine before she moved inside.
Helene took a moment to assure herself the figure was where she ought to be—safe in
her alcove—before crossing to the cabinet. She’d retrieved two goblets from behind
the glass and was heading out when her pace slowed. As her gaze drifted over to where
the figurine sat, that shiver gripped her again. She could barely believe she’d actually
held that amazing piece of history in her own two hands. When she’d lifted the goddess
out of her cave, the figurine had felt so smooth and heavy, but easy to…
A sound echoed into the room, the click of a lock—the front door. A hot rush swept
from her feet to her crown. Spinning on her heel, she hurried to move out of the room,
but her grip on one of the goblets slipped. Before she could catch it, it fell and
smashed on the floor.
As she stared down, she told herself to run, find a broom, but she couldn’t move.
Through the study doorway, she saw Darius pass. He paused and, catching sight of her,
threw a dubious look her way. He blinked before his gaze lowered to the shards at
her feet. Then his head jerked toward the figurine. Her heart hammered when he edged
forward.
“You’ve had an accident,” he said.
“I thought I’d use different glasses for lunch today. I’d noticed these. I fumbled
one.” She took in the mess again and, feeling nauseated, apologized. “I’ll pay for
it.”
He held her gaze for a long tense moment. Then he crossed over and folded her free
hand in his.
“Were they an excuse to come in here to see the figurine again? You should have just
asked. I’d have shown her to you.”
She wanted to defend herself. She hadn’t gone anywhere near her. Instead, sick to
her stomach, she looked down. “I’ll sweep up this mess.”
“I’ll do that.” His hand on her arm, he guided her out the room. “You can bring me
a pan.”
They had lunch without either one mentioning the broken goblet. In fact, they hardly
spoke at all. By bedtime, however, Darius seemed to have put the episode out of his
mind; Helene only wished she could. How old were those goblets? How much were they
worth? A splinter of glass had embedded in her heel. Every little throb worked to
remind her and ramp up the guilt.
When Darius emerged from the bathroom, his broad chest on display above a pair of
low-slung drawstring pants and his dark hair wet and tousled, she was propped against
the headrest. One leg was crooked over the other knee while she tried to find that
splinter.
“I must have trod on a piece of glass,” she explained, as he unfurled himself like
a big muscled cat along the bottom end of the bed. Sitting straighter, she put down
her foot. She had to ask. “Was that glass very expensive?”
Was it hundreds of years old?
“That set was handed down to my sister from my mother.”
Helene groaned. “Tahlia will hate me.”
“My mother broke one a couple of years ago. Last time she was here, Tahlia broke one
herself. She was upset—”
“Terrific.”
“But she was also adamant she wanted them used. They aren’t heirlooms. I’m not certain
where my mother picked them up but they were always on the table when we visited here
as a family. Tahlia will understand.” His face turned wry. “Although it’d be another
story if
I
broke one.”
He dropped a kiss on the top of her foot but as his thumb grazed the underside, he
hit the splinter, and she jerked.
“I’m sure your sister loves you,” she said.
“She would
love
having me out of her hair. She’s probably organized a string of midnight rendezvous
with Otis. If Yanni weren’t around to keep an eye out I’d be worried.”
When his fingertip crossed that tender spot beneath her heel, she tried not to flinch.
“You mentioned the boy—Otis? He works for you?”
“He’s one of two head grooms with our stables.”
“A good worker?”
“He understands our horses and their needs. I was fond of him.”
“Was?”
He grazed the shard again and she squirmed. “It’s complicated.”
“Teenage love always is.”
He slid off the bed and returned to the room with a pair of tweezers. “From Tahlia’s
bathroom,” he explained, stretching out along the foot of the bed again. “These past
weeks since coming home from boarding school, my sister’s been a different person.
Defiant. Moody. At least she is with me.”
“Want some advice? Give her some slack. Then she won’t need to defend herself so much.”
“Guardians need to be firm,” he said, concentrating on her heel. “Children expect
boundaries.”
He pinched the tweezers and Helene swallowed a yelp. “Maybe you should let me have
a go with those.”
“Sit still.” Adjusting his grip, he focused again.
“Tahlia isn’t a child,” she told him as he tilted her foot the other way to take advantage
of the light. “She’s a young woman with feelings.”
“Hearts shouldn’t rule heads.”
Helene couldn’t push aside the pang. It was pretty clear he’d been thinking with a
head other than the one on his shoulders these past days.
“You’re worried she’ll make the same mistake your uncle made,” she said. “That your
sister might choose a personal life over anything royal one day.”
He held her foot more firmly and stuck his nose even closer. “If you’re trying to
make a case for me to loosen some reins, you’re not doing so well.” Darius hesitated
then pinned her with a look. “You don’t think they’d elope, do you?”