Ten years of dreaming Lia’s dreams for her, making her every wish come true, and seeing how she’d grown and changed. She’d become a woman before Toby’s blinkered eyes. And now she’d gone so far ahead of him he couldn’t see her.

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

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

Melissa James is a mother of three, living in a beach suburb in New South Wales, Australia. A former nurse, waitress, shop assistant, perfume and chocolate demonstrator—among other things—she believes in taking on new jobs for the fun experience. She’ll try anything at least once, to see what it feels like—a fact that scares her family on regular occasions. She fell into writing by accident, when her husband brought home an article stating how much a famous romance author earned, and she thought, I can do that! She can be found most mornings walking and swimming at her local beach with her husband, or every afternoon running around to her kids’ sporting hobbies, while dreaming of flying, scuba diving, belaying down a cave or over a cliff—anywhere her characters are at the time!

HIS PRINCESS IN THE MAKING

BY

MELISSA JAMES

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To an old friend who waited long years

for his damaged love to come to him.

I know the reward was worth the wait.

Thanks to Rachel, Robyn Grady

and Barbara Jeffcott-Geris for helping shape this book,

and special thanks to Barbara Daille-White

for an outsider’s perspective.

PROLOGUE

Sydney clinic for eating disorders, ten years ago

“How is she today?”

The middle-aged specialist smiled up at the brown-skinned young giant hovering over him, with intense blue eyes filled with anxiety and stress. “I’d say you’d know the answer better than I do, Toby, since you stayed overnight and have spoken to her twice already today.”

One side of the boy’s mouth curved up in acknowledgement of the comment, but he said, “I meant to ask how her counselling session went.”

The doctor reached up to lay a hand on the other’s shoulder—a massive, muscled shoulder, evidence of his active profession. “Lia says what we want to hear, so we’ll send her home. You know she only talks to you.”

The doctor spoke without anger or frustration. Indeed, he’d never known a boy like this one. Not brother, not lover, but the most devoted friend any girl in this clinic had ever had. Here day and night for the girl he called “his best friend’s sister,” there were undercurrents that made everyone on staff smile.

But they never laughed. Not when the boy always knew what the near-silent girl wasn’t saying, what she’d eat and when she’d eat—and when she needed a few hours in the outside world, going on a bushwalk or sitting on the beach.

Toby Winder was the most unorthodox support person everyone at the clinic had ever known. He’d read every book written on anorexia nervosa, and yet tossed out the rule books half the time, using his knowledge of Lia instead—and somehow his unique method of treatment worked. Lia was not only putting on weight, she was happy. She ate when he didn’t coax her, but made her smile and laugh and feel cherished. He seemed to heal young Lia Costa just by being there, by knowing her as few family members or friends knew anyone with this secretive, killing disease.

Lia had lost so much in a year. First, her parents had died in a car crash. Within five months of their deaths she’d been rejected by the Australian Ballet because of her height. Now her grandmother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. It was enough to drive a girl as intense as Lia, with so little self-esteem, into starving herself.

Toby Winder was the single miracle keeping her alive. The biggest threat to recovery was feeling alone, ugly or unloved. He made her feel safe and beautiful and loved, made her feel special by calling her by her real name, Giulia, when everyone else called her Lia.

A first-year fireman, he’d managed to arrange his schedule to be the opposite to Lia’s brother Charlie, a fellow fireman, so that if one of them couldn’t be there the other could, or so her grandfather could visit Lia around his wife’s visiting hours. Toby had asked them both to hide their anxiety, which only put an added burden on Lia. He’d shown them the parts of the garden she liked at the clinic, and the games she enjoyed playing, eating when she was so absorbed in the fun she barely noticed.

When he’d discovered that Lia exercised all night if left alone, still trying to lose the last vestiges of the slender yet curvaceous figure that she believed had kept her from the ballet, Toby had cajoled the staff into putting a camp-bed beside her at night. How he slept with his six-foot-five frame on that squeaky old bed, the staff never could work out. He simply said that if she was sleeping he could sleep.

And, when she needed to visit her ill grandmother, Toby took her—and by some miracle Lia never starved herself afterwards to deal with the stress, because Toby was there beside her.

Nobody on the staff had ever seen a case like this. They’d never seen an anorexic girl’s face light up the way Lia’s did when she saw Toby come through the gates, or when she heard his voice. Anorexic girls rarely welcomed touch the way she did with Toby. And nobody had seen a nineteen-year-old boy put aside his entire life to help someone who wasn’t even his girlfriend to recover from this unrecoverable disease, giving and giving without a hope of reward apart from her return to health.

All of which made the doctor’s task so much harder now.

“You’ve been incredibly devoted to her recovery,” the doctor began gently. “We’ve all been amazed by the way she responds to you.”

Toby reddened and shrugged a shoulder. “She’s my friend.”

“I think she’s a little more than that to you…or a lot. Isn’t she?” he pressed.

The boy turned towards the window. “I think I’ll go find her.”

“This is for her sake, Toby. I need to know.”

Toby didn’t turn back, but the way he rubbed his neck told the doctor he’d rather have him stick pins in him than answer these questions. “We’ve been friends for five years, since Charlie took me home to meet the family. She was only eleven. She was like one of my little sisters to me. I moved in with the family a year later.” He didn’t elaborate why, and Dr Evans realised Toby was as secretive as Lia.

“When did it change for you?” the doctor asked, gentle but remorseless.

A long silence followed. Then, slowly, he said, “When she came here. When she collapsed. I knew then.”

“Knew?”

He frowned fiercely out of the window, as if something there offended him. “I’m going to marry her.”

Five blunt words, but from the mouth of this boy, so young and yet so old beyond his years, they didn’t seem romantic, melodramatic or ridiculous. It was a vow made all the stronger for the unemotional way he’d said it.

And that only made the doctor’s task harder now. “You can’t tell her.”

Toby wheeled round. The doctor shrank from the unaccustomed ferocity in the boy’s face. “Why not?”

And the doctor knew he’d chosen the right time. Toby had been about to show Lia the feelings he’d been bottling up for months during her recovery.

“Because you’re her ‘it’ person. She needs your friendship to live.”

“She’ll always have it.”

The doctor refused to step back this time, even when he saw Toby’s massive fists clench—even as he imagined the rookie fireman breaking down burning walls and doors with a single punch. “Will she?”

“Yes.” No protests, no outburst of teenage anger or indignation, and again his simplicity made him all the more believable.

“She can’t be expected to make a decision of this calibre now, Toby. She’s lost so much this year. That she’s recovered to this point is a miracle in itself, and a testament to her inner strength and your devotion.” Aching with pity, he forced himself to go on. “For the sake of her future health, you must take your cues from her. If she ever tells you she wants more than friendship, I’ll be happy for you both.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

The rough pain in Toby’s voice made the doctor’s ache even stronger. “Then you can’t, either.” He sighed, turning away; it hurt to look at him. “She needs you in a way I’ve never seen an anorexic patient need a single person before. Though everyone loves her, and she gives to everyone, you’re the only one who knows her heart and soul. She trusts you to be there. If you ever withdrew the friendship, or broke her trust—”

“It won’t happen.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?” he asked quietly. “Will she still have your unswerving devotion when she brings home a boyfriend, a lover? Will you still give her everything she needs when she’s sleeping with another man?”

For as long as he lived, Dr Evans would never forget the look on Toby Winder’s face at that moment. Just the thought of Lia with another man turned this bronzed young giant pale and shaking, his eyes blank with devastation.

“She’ll still have it,” was all he said.

Many times in the past five months, the doctor had wished he’d known love the way this boy did. Now he was glad his heart was a little shallower.

“She’s almost better now, but former anorexics need their trusted support systems through the greatest stresses in life—moving, death, weddings. Childbirth,” he pressed. “If she married another man, but still needed your friendship, can you say with absolute certainty that you could devote yourself to her? Losing your friendship could send her back into anorexic behaviour patterns. The danger will always be there. Like alcoholics, they never completely recover. It’s a stress release she’ll always be tempted to return to. Intense stress, fear, loss or shock will lead to vomiting—and she’ll remember the comfort of losing weight. It’s a sense of control for her when the world spins out of control.”

“I know all that,” Toby said, his voice tight.

Hating this, Dr Evans added the final words to convince him. “Even thinking she could lose your friendship might send her back here. Next time, it could kill her.”

Toby’s face whitened even more and his eyes darkened, but he didn’t speak, didn’t move. After a long wait, a single nod was all he gave in answer— but every line of the boy’s body, the perspiration on his neck and forehead, told the doctor how very close to the edge he was.

Moved with pity, he reached out to touch his shoulder again, but Toby moved to the door. “She’s coming.”

He was out before the doctor could say another word.

The doctor moved to the window where Toby had been standing, and opened it.

The tall, slender girl, almost recovered now, was dressed in the anorexic ‘uniform’ of concealing trousers and a windcheater. She wandered the flowered paths, head down, with the listless, puppet-like attitude she always displayed until…

Toby walked towards Lia across the sunlit grass in the pretty, hilly gardens of the centre. When he came close, he spoke her name.

She looked up; her eyes lit. A smile was born, and filled her face until she was radiant. Her tumbled dark curls glistened in the sunlight. All the ethereal beauty lost inside her withdrawn nature when he wasn’t near her came to life. She came to life.

The doctor shook his head in wonder. He wasn’t an emotional man, but whenever he saw these two he thought of Juliet with Romeo, Isolde with Tristan.

Toby opened his arms and Lia ran into them.

A lump filled Dr Evans’ throat. The joy on the boy’s face as he held her, the serenity and completion on hers, almost convinced him he was doing the wrong thing. Could he throw out the rule book on love the way Toby had with healing her? Could he let them just be? Because the incandescence of this boy and girl when they were together was something he’d never seen before, and probably never would again.

But what if he was right? What if?

Despite her secretive nature, Lia had given some sweet memory, some piece of tender wisdom, to every person at the centre, staff or patient. She was one of those people everyone loved. From the first day Dr Evans had met Lia, every instinct had screamed at him that this girl had to live…and Toby Winder had made her want to live. He had to be there to catch her when she fell.

No, he couldn’t risk Lia’s life because a boy was in love now.

Yes, he’d done the right thing. But the doctor knew that he’d continue to question the wisdom of his decision until the day he died.

CHAPTER ONE

The present day

Australia’s Newest Royals! Charlie and Lia Costa, the Boy and Girl from Ryde, Ready for Right Royal Marriages

The Swan Lake Princess: From Giselle to Real-life Cinderella. Aussie Ballet Teacher Lia Costa Will Marry the Grand Duke of Falcandis! Date is Set…

They’re So In Love: Lia and Max Fall at First Sight. Will There Be A Double Wedding With Charlie and Jazmine?

AS TOBY tried to report for work at the fire station, he was crowded by a hundred eager faces and bodies pushing at him. The usual swarm of microphones was shoved in his face.

“Toby, how do you feel about your friends becoming royalty? Your mother told us that you feel left out.”

“Will Charlie marry Princess Jazmine?”

“Is Lia in love with the Grand Duke?”

That’s what I want to know. Toby couldn’t answer the questions tossed at him, since neither Charlie nor Giulia had called him once, nor even written a note, since they’d disappeared a month ago. He hated that—though he was family, he wasn’t family enough.

He cut the excited questions short with the weary, timeless, “No comment.” He pushed past the milling crowd of reporters into the fire station with the grim determination of a man used to the press.

He ought to be by now. Last year, he and Charlie had received more than enough of the star treatment after they’d saved some kids from a burning, collapsing house. But the past few days of intrusions, constant doorbell-ringing and phone calls at all hours had given him a gutful.

Since the story hit had world news four days ago, Toby had found he couldn’t even attend a fire without being crowded and asked for his opinion on questions he couldn’t answer. How the hell did stars handle this on a daily basis?

How had Charlie managed not to punch someone without his restraining influence? How was Giulia coping with the pressure? Was she eating? And, God help him, did she like that handsome Grand Duke? Had she fallen in love at a glance?

A disembodied voice filled the room via the loudspeaker. “Grizz, report to Leopard’s office, stat.”

Toby sighed and dropped down from the chin-up bar. Though they used the irreverent nicknames for each other—Toby’s being “Grizzly Bear” because of his height and build—when you were called to the captain’s office you didn’t prevaricate.

He took the back stairs three at a time, hoping to God Leopard didn’t have more questions about Charlie and Giulia, and ridiculous assertions that a fireman and a ballet teacher could be the lost heirs to a kingdom he’d only heard about on quiz shows. When he reached the office, two black-suited, unsmiling men turned to him, and he knew he was about to get answers at last. One said, “We need you to come with us now, sir, no questions asked.”

It wasn’t a request.

An hour later he landed in Canberra, at a quiet airfield reserved for VIPs.

For the next three hours he endured intense questioning, and instructions on what complete discretion really meant. Then, only then, was he introduced to Lady Eleni, a pretty, dark-haired woman who was personal assistant to Princess Jazmine—Charlie’s fiancée. Then he was taken to a dressing room at the Hellenican Consulate in Canberra, where he changed from gym clothes to jeans and shirt from the suitcase packed for him by the Australian Security Intelligence Office. They’d thought of everything.

Including Lia’s puppy, the excitable, scruffy Puck, who barked a series of excited yaps as they boarded the Hellenican royal jet.

She was shaking.

Standing in bright, late-summer sunshine outside the Summer Palace, wearing designer jeans and a lemon linen-shift and shoes that would have cost the same as her ballet school, Lia Costa waited for Toby to arrive.

But I’m not Lia Costa. I’m Giulia Maria Helena Marandis, Princess Royal-to-be, she reminded herself yet again, after a month of living in the Summer Palace in the small Mediterranean nation of Hellenia.

She reminded herself of it every day, almost every hour—and still she kept expecting the alarm to go off and to wake up back in her bedroom in Ryde…

Despite the day’s warmth, her hands and feet were cold. She chewed on her lip as the black Rolls turned smoothly and came through the gates. She winced as the press took hundreds of shots of the car’s occupants.

He was here. Toby was here.

The butterflies in her stomach turned to woodpeckers.

“It’ll be fine, Lia, you’ll see,” Charlie muttered as he waited beside her. “Don’t worry so much.”

She smiled and pressed her brother’s hand, knowing Charlie didn’t believe it any more than she did. Though he’d insisted on the King bringing Toby here, to talk everything out with their best friend, there was nothing anyone could say or do to fix the crisis she and Charlie found themselves in, unless they could find a way to turn back time. Charlie would be the next king of Hellenia, and Lia would be Princess Royal, with all its luxury—and its duty. Including creating much-needed royal heirs.

Charlie might be between a rock and a hard place, but at least he and Jazmine were deeply attracted. They had a chance at happiness.

She, Lia, had the choice of the devil and the stormy, blue sea.

The Rolls pulled up in front of them. The chauffeur opened the door for him and Toby, big, strong and dependable, emerged from the car. Joy surged through her at the sight of him.

Then she saw his face, let go of Charlie’s hand and gasped. Something awful ran through her body, like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical socket.

Toby was her gentle giant, her quiet tower of strength, who knew and loved her just as she was despite her inadequacies. For more than a decade she’d counted on seeing the tenderness in his summer-sky eyes, the sweet curve of his slow, sunlit smile, and the flash of his deep-grooved dimples when he looked at her.

Now, as he took in the changes to her hair, the obvious designer touches to her clothes, the look on his face—cold and unemotional—hurt her. It had been so stupid to indulge in the small, pitiful hope that in these clothes, with her hair cut and some subtle make-up applied, he’d find her pretty at last…

Until this moment she’d never seen the blackness Charlie claimed was inside him. She had only one single memory where Toby had looked at her without a smile—the day she’d discovered his family was exploding, and she’d brought him home to live with the family. Even when she’d woken up in the clinic after her collapse four years later, he’d smiled, held her tight and thanked God she was still with him.

But today there was no smile. She saw his soul from the mirror of his eyes, turning the bright summer day to night. Until now she hadn’t thought of his reaction to crossing the world for her, losing career, home and freedom of choice.

Lia fiddled with her hands. Her toes did the squirmy thing she hated. “T-Toby?”

His eyes met hers, in a searching that felt like a winter’s night…and then, like a miracle unfolding before her, they softened and lightened.

“Toby,” she whispered, and took a hesitant step. Her arms, of their own accord, reached for him. When his opened in return, and he smiled that slow, sunlit smile so uniquely his, she couldn’t hold in the sob of relief.

“Toby, oh, Toby, I’ve missed you!” she choked, and ran slam into his arms.

“Giulia, beloved,” he murmured into her hair as he held on fast.

And after a month of weathering storms of right royal proportions, the world felt right at last. Toby was here, her one-of-a-kind, wonderful friend who knew her, good and bad, weak or strong—and just loved her. She loved the endearments he used for her alone. Most women loved the way he spoke—or maybe they just loved his striking looks. But he’d never called the girls he’d dated “beloved,” only her. She loved it—so different from “babe” or “doll” or “sweetheart”, or the other normal nicknames guys called their women.

But she wasn’t his woman—she never had been—and that made the difference. Friendly love took away demands, emotional confrontations and expectation.

She ought to know. After enduring the world’s most stupid crush on her best friend all through her teen years, she’d finally given up hoping he’d look her way. Only then had the world shifted onto its right axis, and the best-friend love they were always meant to share had been theirs. They could hold each other without any silliness.

Only, the funny thing now was… Was he—aroused? No, that was ridiculous; he’d never wanted her that way. She tried to dismiss it from her mind as a guy thing, an involuntary reaction of some kind, and held tight to him anyway—best friends could do that. She whispered, “Toby, Toby,” as if he was a phantom that might disappear at any moment.

He smiled down at her, tender and loving. “Miss me, beautiful girl?”

“Like half of me was gone,” she choked. Like the sunshine had disappeared.

“So I gather I need not bow and say Your Highness, as instructed?”

The tone of his deep, rumbling voice, rich with teasing, made her gasp with relief. “You do and I’ll hit you.”

As he chuckled and caressed her hair, she kissed his cheek—and felt the old urge to taste his skin with her tongue.

Okay, so she’d never quite conquered this—this idiotic feeling of being turned on by her best friend. She’d accepted it couldn’t happen. It was just a physical thing—probably because she’d never met another man who made her feel dainty, feminine and aroused with a touch. But she’d sworn long ago she’d never embarrass him, or herself, by burdening him with her desires again. She’d done that eleven years ago, at that wretched New Year’s party, and had almost destroyed their friendship.

She’d never risk losing him again.

He’d given her so much during the past ten years. He’d just proved his devotion by crossing the world for her. Why ruin something so perfect and wonderful for something only one of them had ever wanted?

“Hey, Grizz, don’t I even get a hello?”

Toby smiled at Charlie, but didn’t let go of her. Possibly because he could tell she’d refuse to release him an inch. “Rip, my old friend—or must I call you Your Royal Highness now?”

“Oh, shut up, you dumb jerk,” Charlie growled with a grin, and thumped him on the back. “Man, it’s good to see you.”

Lia pulled back to look into his eyes, the anxiety not quite dissipated. “You understand why we couldn’t tell you anything or call you, don’t you, Toby?”

“No, I don’t understand in the least. I shall demand at least four home-made moussakas and two chocolate cakes in recompense for weeks of terror and loneliness without you, being followed by the press for my opinion on your status that I couldn’t answer—not to mention feeding and being dragged on a leash down city streets and into trees and electrical poles by the abominable Puck. And let’s not forget the ‘no questions asked’ abduction by ASIO, the interrogation and being whipped onto a jet without so much as a by-your-leave. You are permanently in my debt, beautiful girl—and I will demand adequate recompense at the appropriate time.” He smiled down at her.

Stupid, stupid body… Why did she always quiver when he smiled like that? Why did a simple curve of his lips always make her feel as if the world had stopped and they were the only people in the universe? “I’ve been in your debt for years, and you’ve never once collected.”

“Perhaps what I want needs a debt this massive, my Giulia,” he said softly, with an intensity in his eyes she couldn’t quite fathom. “Perhaps I always felt as deeply in your debt by your magnificent care for the tag-along in the family.”

“Don’t be silly, you are family. So where is Puck now?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. If Toby knew what the sweet intimacy in his voice did to her, he’d… Well, no, he wouldn’t laugh at her. Not again. But he’d be ashamed and embarrassed, and all the things he’d been before, making for months of unbearable awkwardness between them.

Toby cocked his head to the car with a long-suffering grin. “He wouldn’t stop yapping and chasing his tail, even when they brought him to me. ASIO called in a veterinarian for clearance papers for him—and also, against my protests, for sedation. He should wake up any time now.”

“Oh, my poor Puck!” She raced to the car, dragging Toby with her, and yanked the door open, her face splitting with a smile she hadn’t felt inside herself since they’d walked into the lawyer’s office in Sydney. Being Hellenia’s Princess Royal was a privilege and honour; she knew that. But it was still alien to her. She felt as if she was stumbling though each long day of lessons and duties, working out ways to help the people of Hellenia, and brokering peace between Charlie and the King.

But now Toby was here, and all was right with the world.

“I can’t believe you brought that mangy mongrel,” Charlie grumbled good-naturedly as he followed them.

“Yes, a distinctly unroyal mutt—definitely not princess material. I dread seeing what antics he’ll get up to in the palace. Giulia, perhaps it might be best to leave him in the travelling cage.”

Lia ignored them both. They’d been mock-complaining about Puck since she’d brought him home as a puppy a year ago, a gift from one of her dance pupils. She’d originally called him Boofhead, but Toby had named him Puck—because, like the Shakespearean character, he annoyed everybody—and the name had stuck. She opened the travelling cage and pulled her sleepy dog out, half Miniature German Schnauzer and half heaven knew what. She lifted him against her chest and hugged him one-armed, because, even cuddling her pet, she couldn’t let go of Toby, could hardly believe he was here. The nightmare felt more bearable with him beside her.

“Remember, you owe me four moussakas,” he whispered in her ear. “Among other debts I choose to collect at the right time and place.”

Oh, how she loved and hated the warm, shivering excitement that streaked through her at the intimacy. Hated the sense of cheated unfairness that, of all the men in the world, only her dearest friend made her feel as if she was melting inside with a simple whisper.

Stop it. He’s your best friend, almost a brother. You’re a woman now, and a princess. You’re practically engaged—to a rich, handsome, kind…stranger.

“Does your silence indicate that you’re too grand these days to enter a kitchen to make me moussaka, Giulia?”

It took a mammoth effort to grin up at Toby as if nothing was wrong, but she’d been practising the skill for years, and she had the hang of it now. “No, the kitchen’s too grand for me. You should see the one here. I went in one night, took one look and bolted back to my rooms.”

His eyes twinkled. “You require my reassuring and close-to-massive presence to terminate the feeling of smallness in the royal scale of size, my Giulia?”

She choked on laughter. “You’ve got to know how much I’ve missed you, when hearing your crazy vocabulary makes me feel so happy.”

He grinned, unperturbed by the teasing. “It all feels a little surreal to you still? I gather my presence makes things more real for you?”

Her eyes drank him in, her oasis in this sumptuous desert called royal life. “Nothing’s right without you—or Puck,” she added, to keep things light, holding tight to the mutt who rarely slowed down long enough for cuddles of this kind.

“Is that so?” Toby’s grin seemed deliberately light, as if he was testing her. “You would appreciate my presence and blessing on your upcoming nuptials to the Grand Duke, Your Highness?”

She shivered. “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, resisting the urge to bury her face in his shoulder; instead she looked away. “I’m not her, I’m not that person…not with you. And—and Max…I…”

After a brief hesitation, he asked softly, “You don’t like the Grand Duke?”

She saw Charlie’s hand gripping his shoulder, and knew he wanted to know her answer too. They all wanted to know—the King, Jazmine, Charlie, her minders and diplomatic staff—not to mention the world press. Max was the only one who seemed willing to wait.

Well, they’d all have to wait. She had enough changes to deal with, just getting used to being called Your Highness, learning new duties and languages, and how to speak to strangers of varying importance with grace instead of blushing and wanting to hide. In being Hellenia’s new princess, she finally felt as if she was in a position to help others, but she’d spent a quiet, almost invisible life until now. She didn’t know how she’d accustom herself to being important to anyone, always being followed around, having black-suited, armed professionals watching her every move.

When it came to dissecting her emotions, she’d always felt like a fish on the end of a line, floundering about with no result. In all her life, it had seemed she could never have the few things she wanted, and could always have what she didn’t want.

Max was the perfect, handsome, kind point in question.

“I do like Max. Of course I do,” she said quietly. “He’s lovely and kind, and understanding—handsome too.” She flashed Toby a quirky grin. “He’s the standard fairy-tale prince…well, duke. I do like him—everybody likes Max—but…” She stopped when she heard the stilted tone in her voice.

She’d long ago accepted that she was the kind of woman who cooked and cleaned and looked after others, not the kind men fell for—but it didn’t stop the useless wishing. Why couldn’t just one man look at her, really see her, and find her pretty—and to mean it, to want her?

And Max—didn’t. In the month he’d become a friend, a willing listener and shoulder when this life overwhelmed her. It was brother-to-sister caring—again.

How could she tell Toby how humiliating it felt never to know how it felt to have a man want her? Especially when he’d been the man she’d wanted for so long, and he knew it. It could only fill him with embarrassment and guilt, when he’d never wanted her either.

The flashes of the cameras at the gates were still going a mile a second—and after looking over there Charlie’s hand fell from Toby’s shoulder. “I think it’s time you went inside to meet the new rellies.” There was dry humour in his tone.

“Including the little woman,” Toby joked back, with a grin. Despite the endless stress of the past weeks, Lia wanted to smile. Toby always opened the door to Charlie’s reluctant emotions with laughter, giving him time to gather his thoughts before he spoke.

“Little, but she makes an impact,” Charlie shot back dryly, the grin diluted by the lifted brow. He turned toward the palace, his arm slung casually around Toby’s shoulders. She held onto him from the other side.

It felt unbreakable: the Three Musketeers going into battle.

Four Musketeers, including Puck. The image of her tousled, yapping pet as D’ Artagnan made her chuckle.

He didn’t ask why she laughed. He knew she’d tell him.

She turned to Toby, biting a corner of her lip, filled with delicious laughter. “I wonder how the King’s going to react to my dog in the palace.”

“Vesuvius or Etna?” His tone was dry. “I’ve been informed His Majesty is somewhat of a hothead.”

“Just a bit,” Charlie answered, with a world of dryness in his voice.

“He’s used to getting his way, that’s for sure. And when he doesn’t…” Lia shuddered. “With Theo Angelis and Puck in one room, I have a feeling the explosion will be more like Krakatoa.”

CHAPTER TWO

OF COURSE, taking the dumb mutt out of the travelling cage ended in disaster.

Puck woke up just as Toby was connecting quite nicely with the bed-ridden old monarch. Puck squirmed out of Giulia’s arms—the stupid dog didn’t know his luck resting against her beautiful breasts; if she ever let him that close he’d never move again—and raced around the invalid’s room, marking his territory with excited yelps.

Not the best introduction to the last member of the Costa family.

While servants flooded the place and everyone ran around after the dog—trying to stop the million-and-one leg-liftings Puck had to perform every time he was somewhere new—the King, the only one seemingly unperturbed by the canine antics, tipped his fingers in silent beckoning to Toby.

Toby crossed the room, knowing what was coming.

“Make no mistake, boy. You’re here to talk them both into staying—to doing their duty to their country—and after the weddings you go back to where you belong,” the King muttered.

While Toby wasn’t about to rouse the fears of an old man recovering from a heart attack, no matter how minor, he couldn’t lie either. “I came to help, sire—but I belong with Charlie and Giulia, no matter where they are. We’re family, sire.”

The simple statement of fact created his first enemy in the palace.

His own stupidity created the second.

When he met Princess Jazmine and the Grand Duke, he kept his attention on them. If his heart sank at the suave, handsome, friendly perfection that was Giulia’s “lovely” Max, he kept it to himself. He was too aware that the King was watching his every interaction with Giulia like a hawk.

In a month, everything had changed. The old king, sick and in the twilight days of his rule, still held the power over whether he stayed or was bundled back on that jet—and Charlie and Giulia needed him here.

Yet, despite her earlier joy at his arrival, Giulia seemed too quiet. She was looking at her feet, avoiding everyone’s eyes. In spite of her perfect appearance, something was wrong inside her—and yes, as he’d feared, she had lost weight. The lovely ripe curves he loved so much were too slender for a woman of five-foot-ten. Her skin was paler than he liked, and her eyes didn’t have the fresh sparkle she always had when she’d been out in the sun, communing with nature—another of her stress releases, along with cooking and reading.

He’d have to get her out there again. That was, if he could get rid of all the black-suited minders, cameras and royal watchers. If he could allay the old man’s suspicions and gain his trust.

It wasn’t going to happen. Sick and fighting for the good of his people, the King had seen straight through all Toby’s defences that had been in place for a decade. The King knew how he felt about Giulia. The only person who knew his secret was the only enemy he’d ever made in his life, and the most powerful man in the country.

So he might as well be honest. Any chance to get her alone, and let her tell him what was going on with her.

“Giulia, my beloved, to put it without any overkill, even jet food sucks. I’ve missed both you and your cooking like hell the past weeks. Therefore, I opine, it’s way past the time when we disappear to discover the royal kitchens and make some of your unbelievably delicious moussaka, and those decadent mud muffins the way only you can make them…and we can talk.”

Why did she take so long to look up? But when she did he lost his breath. For a moment, a bare second, as she lifted her gaze to his the look he’d hungered to see for a decade was there. The chocolate-dark, slumberous eyes held desire.

Then it vanished as if it had never been, leaving him wondering if it was jet lag, their long separation or the same useless wishing he’d known for so long.

But if he’d imagined it, so had Charlie and the King. Charlie’s eyes were glazed with shock—and the look the old man gave Toby was even harder, more calculating. “I think it’s time we allowed these three to catch up.” The unspoken words hovered between king and commoner: the sooner you help them decide, the sooner you go.

As if in harmony with the King’s silent declaration of war, Jazmine and Max both nodded. “We’ll leave you,” Max said, with a smile aimed at Giulia alone.

“No, we’ll go to my room.” Giulia sounded off-kilter. “No cameras.”

“That wouldn’t be appropriate for a princess, my dear,” the King said, gently but with finality. “Even such an old friend as Toby cannot enter your room.”

Watching closely, Toby saw her nostrils flare a little, her lush mouth tighten, but she nodded, a short, jerking movement of her head.

“I’ll make sure the cameras are turned off in the tea room, and nobody will be at the balconies,” Jazmine said quietly. “They can wait at the base of the stairs.”

The King nodded, looking exhausted. “Well thought of, my dear.” He waved them all out.

A minute later they’d entered some kind of sumptuous, gold-painted tea room, with antique furniture, and mirrors and paintings on the walls. It was beautiful but, to his mind, overdone. It screamed its importance unnecessarily. Whoever had commissioned this place had had a real ego problem.

After they’d made certain the cameras were turned off and the security detail was away from the outside doors, the Grand Duke—“call me Max”—said to Princess Jazmine, “I think it’s time we leave them alone to talk.” These Mediterranean women really had the most beautiful names.

Though it had been the right thing to say, the way he smiled at Giulia set Toby’s teeth on edge. He spoke as if he knew Giulia, knew what she’d want and that he could give it to her. He smiled at her as if they were close.

What made it worse was the way Giulia smiled back.

Was it a friendly smile, or did it hold more? After a month, she’d given this man her trust, her friendship, and—no, no—her heart? Had she accepted the royal engagement after knowing the guy a few weeks, when he’d waited for her for ten long, agonising years?

A red haze clouded his vision. All the reasons for his silence vanished from his jet-lagged brain. For the first time in ten years he lost control, acting on impulse, obsession, years of love. “Wait.”

Jazmine and Max turned back.

“Are the rumours true about the royal marriages for you—all four of you?” He stared hard at Max.

Taken aback by the directness of the attack, Max nodded. “It’s the way things are done here. Though he’s giving us all time, the King can enforce it by law if he feels it’s in the best interests of the country.”

“Then you need to know the true reason I’m here, besides advising my friends on what is best—not just for Hellenia, but for them.”

And with that he snatched Giulia into his arms, bent her over his arm and kissed her…kissed her as he’d ached to do, body and soul, for a third of his life.

For the rest of his days he’d recall the feel of Giulia’s lovely, supple dancer’s body as he pulled her against him; the soft, full lips beneath his as he kissed her. Thank God—thank God—her hand fluttered up into his hair, she moulded herself against him and kissed him back for a brief, beautiful moment.

The gasps of everyone in the room awoke him to what he’d done.

Idiot! After ten years of patient waiting, he’d lost it in a moment. He’d kissed his intensely private Giulia in front of an audience.

But she’d kissed him back. She’d kissed him.

So he might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. He met the Grand Duke’s eyes without flinching or fear. “Whatever Charlie decides, I’ll be doing my dead-level best to make Giulia choose to come home—with me. To become an ordinary firefighter’s wife instead of making an arranged alliance with you for the sake of power and wealth.” He stared at each of them in turn, keeping Giulia in the curve of his arm, loving the feel of her there, where she belonged. “Nobody knows how to care for her and cherish her as I do. She’s mine.”

Then, without a breath, he turned to her. It was Giulia’s cue.

And the shock in her lovely eyes matched the stunned betrayal in her husky voice as she cried, “Toby, how could you?”

She tore herself from his arms and bolted from the room before he could react.

“Do you want company, Lia?”

From her favoured hidey-hole in the library—snuggling in corners with books had been her escape for years when the world felt out of control—Lia looked up with a smile at the woman who’d become a friend, a sister, within hours of meeting. “If it’s you, Jazz.” She patted the big, fat, curl-up-in-me leather reading-chair beside hers.

Jazmine kicked off her shoes and curled up with a sigh. “I love this room. I always have. What’s that you’re reading?”

Because Jazmine didn’t pry, Lia wanted to tell her. “What’s wrong with me? Why does everyone treat me like a child in need of protection?”

Jazmine’s brows lifted, and Lia laughed, feeling weirdly relieved that her friend chose to laugh at her rather than cover for her. “Okay, everyone but you.”

Jazmine shrugged. “I think it’s a man thing. Men like to believe they’re in control, and they hate change.”

“Oh, right,” Lia mocked, the fury back. “That explains what he did? He might have been in control, but it was a change from his normal behaviour all right.”

Jazmine grinned. “You seemed to like it, from what I could see.”

“All right, so I liked it,” she snapped, surprising even herself with the need to blurt it all out. “I’m almost twenty-seven years old and today was the first time a man kissed me! I wanted to be a woman for once. What’s so wrong with that?”

Jazmine gaped—literally. “You’ve never been kissed before today?”

Her blush grew deeper. “Do you mind? It was humiliating enough to say once.”

“Of course it was. I’m sorry, Lia.” Jazmine leaned over and hugged her. “But you’re so beautiful. Men should be lining up to kiss you.”

The words resonated in her soul. Beautiful… Someone outside the direct family had actually said it to her: You’re so beautiful.

For years she’d felt abnormal. She’d never even been asked on a date in her life. Sometimes she thought a man seemed interested—one or two had asked for her number—but when nothing had come of it she’d felt confused and ashamed, wondering what was wrong with her.

Even now, with a title and fifty-million euros, Theo Angelis had to arrange her marriage because she couldn’t find a man of her own. Though he’d arranged Charlie and Jazmine’s marriage, it was obvious by the way they could barely keep their eyes and hands off each other that their marriage would be…normal. But while she’d been willing to think about marrying Max at first, she’d soon realised that he was like every other man she knew: he saw her as a friend, a sister, someone to be kind to, to protect.

“Well, they’re not,” she answered Jazmine, curt and cold, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m twenty-six years old, and no man has ever touched me.”

“Until today,” Jazmine replied softly, with meaning.

Without warning, Lia felt choking tears rush to her eyes. She’d acted like the sixteen-year-old with a hopeless crush on her best friend she’d once been, instead of the princess she must be. She’d had her dream for a moment, and she’d paid for it. With his next words, the dream had quietly fallen in splintered fragments at her feet.

No one knows how to care for her and cherish her as I do.

It was all about the past. Her best friend wanted to look after her.

“Yes,” she agreed, with a bitterness she couldn’t hide. “Until today.”

Jazmine stared at her, and seemed about to say something. Then the door opened, and Lady Eleni came in, looking unusually harried. “Princess Jazmine! Princess Giulia!”

They jumped out of their chairs and strode round the bookshelf that hid them from view. “Yes, Eleni, what is it?” Jazmine asked, cool and in control.

Lia wished she had the knack of that.

“You’re wanted in the press room, Your Highnesses,” Lady Eleni said in a rush. “Lord Orakis is causing more trouble while the King is ill. The King wishes you both to handle this before the news reaches Prince Kyriacos.”

“Of course, we’ll come now.” Jazmine took Lia’s hand and they headed down together—but they both knew the time had come. They knew what Orakis wanted: power. And with his growing base of support he knew he could gain it legitimately through marriage to a princess.

And with Charlie here to marry Jazmine, there was only one single princess left.

That night

Lia headed down the wide hall to the library, desperately needing some time out.

She rubbed her forehead as she opened the door to the library, finally allowing the stress headache to take control. First Toby’s bombshell kiss, then the press conference from hell, and then she’d sat through a dinner so awkward it had seemed none of them could stomach their food. Could this day become any worse?

“Giulia.”

Toby’s voice came from her favourite chair. She sighed, but kept walking. This had to come; it might as well complete the crazy day this had been. “You found my cubby hole.” She came round the bookshelf to him.

Toby smiled at her, but it was dark, strained. “The task was far from arduous when we’ve lived together fourteen years. You cook, run, dance or read when you’re stressed.” He held out the book she’d left on the reading table. “I see some things haven’t changed. You always loved your historical romances.” He patted the chair beside him.

She found herself smiling as she sat. “What girl doesn’t? We all dream of happy endings, a prince on—” She skidded to an awkward halt.

His laugh wasn’t the shared, chummy thing it had always been; it held an edge of hardness, blackness. “Well, it seems some of us will have our dreams, doesn’t it, Your Highness? And some of us will return home.”

Her brain felt as if it was knocking against her skull. “Stop it,” she burst out, squashing the childish urge to cover her ears. “I didn’t ask for this to happen.”

The look he gave her was, unbelievably, one of betrayal. As if she’d done this to him. “You’re not exactly complaining, are you? During the conference Charlie looked at you, and you nodded. You’ve made your choice—Your Highness.” He sketched a mocking bow with a hand and his head. “Is this enough respect, or should I genuflect, prostrate myself in front of your magnificence?”

Taken aback by the unaccustomed ferocity in him, she stared. This wasn’t the Toby she knew, her dearest friend and confidante for so many years. “What did you want me to do, turn my back on my brother when he needs me, refuse to help a country torn by war? Should I go home and leave Charlie to rebuild the nation and face the threat of Orakis alone?”

“Let’s not forget the tiara, the title and the fifty-odd-million euros with your name on them, Your Royal Highness.” The words were hard, bitter.

“Yes, the fifty million was the clincher,” she shot at him, her voice shaking. “Money’s all I’ve ever cared about. That’s why ten million’s already spoken for—I’ve got a lot of designer dresses and shoes to buy. I’ve always wanted to be rich and famous—the way I’ve chased fame shows that, doesn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know, Your Highness. Maybe this is your replacement for the Australian Ballet. Maybe wearing a tiara and fifty-thousand-dollar dresses, marrying a rich and handsome Grand Duke and having your face on all the glossies and postage stamps is all the compensation and revenge any woman could ever need. They’ll wish they’d accepted you now, won’t they?”

“If you don’t know the answer to that, you never knew me at all.” She got to her feet, her heart hurting more than her head at this point. “I’m leaving before we say things we’ll both regret.”

He muttered something beneath his breath. Then he blew out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not exactly stating my case to my best advantage—I know that—but all this has knocked me sideways, Giulia. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Join the club.” She started to shake her head, but it hurt too much. “I wake up every morning and think I’m going to be in my bedroom at home in Ryde. This can’t be my life. Then I open my eyes and I’m still here.”

He was silent for a moment or two. It stretched out. Then he said quietly, “Do you want to be home in Ryde?”

She stared at him. “How could you know me for so many years and not know?” She sighed and rubbed at the top of her head and over her temples.

“I should have known you’d have one of your headaches after everything you’ve been through today.” He switched off the lamp at the table, and pushed the second chair to face his. “Come and sit. Put your feet up.”

By force of long habit, and because the pain was making her dizzy, she sat on the chair, kicked off her shoes and put her feet in his lap. When he used his thumbs on her pressure points, she blew out a sigh. “Better than the best medication available.”

He didn’t laugh at the old joke, but kept up the pain-relief technique he’d given her for years. When her body slumped, indicating the pain was subsiding, he said, “You need to talk, Giulia. You only get headaches when you feel overburdened.”

“You think?” But she was too relieved at the dissipation of pain for the sarcasm to hold weight. “I wonder why? This morning, before you arrived, the royal doctor confirmed that Theo Angelis will never resume his official duties. So, after a few weeks of knowing who he is, Charlie’s going to be the next King of Hellenia. He’s not ready for it; he still doesn’t want it. Thanks to Orakis making trouble with the people and the press, he’s also officially engaged to Jazmine, but…”

“But our beloved brother blew it with his new fiancée within minutes.” His thumbs lessened the pressure, began moving in softer circles. “He was overwhelmed by the questions thrown at him during the press conference, confused by all the sudden changes to his life, and he hurt Jazmine.”

“And all I did was hide.” She sighed. “I should have been there for him, for both of them. Theo Angelis asked me to step up, to do what I’ve been trained for, but when it all got too hard Charlie was the one who got it right.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Charlie’s been trained to react in emergency. It was as much his firefighter’s instincts that helped him today as the lessons in royal protocol.”

“My job should have helped me handle the spotlight too.”

Toby smiled. “I have no doubt you’ll handle it soon enough. You can dance in a spotlight as Giselle or a swan princess—you’ve arranged concerts with fifty squabbling children—but facing a hundred yelling strangers as yourself was a shock to you. For Charlie and me, it’s a different matter. We’re ourselves when we wade into the fray.” As his thumbs created miracles on her feet, his fingers caressed the sensitive skin beneath her ankles.

She wanted to answer him, but couldn’t. Oh, what he was doing to her? “Hmm,” she murmured, in pure, sweet relief.

Don’t think about it. Wanting him goes nowhere but back to the years of hopeless love—no, lust—for my best friend…

But if I married him, as he said he wants, he’d be my husband; lust is acceptable. He’d make love to me…

Oh, the poor, pathetic fool: a kiss that lasted only moments and she was already back in over her head, wanting what she couldn’t have, for far greater and deeper reasons than the one inescapable fact that he didn’t truly want her.

“Do you think he knows he’s crazy about her yet?”

His voice broke in on her thoughts, tumbling around in her head like day-old clothes in the dryer needing washing again to clear the old, stale smell of hopelessly lusting after the only man she’d ever truly wanted. She risked a soft laugh, and her head only hurt a little. “Not at all—he’s in Costa denial. He’ll hang onto it as long as he can. He still wants to go home, but we all know he won’t.”

“He’ll work it out sooner or later.” His fingers moved like butterfly wings up her ankles, to her calves, and she forgot everything but the delicate magic of his touch bringing her body to life.

“Hmm…” She moved a little, lost in the movement of his fingers.

Soft, circular motions to the back of her knees, more sensual than medical. “And you’re officially a princess.”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” she sighed. Just touch me.

“Why is this Orakis such a threat, Giulia? Why does everyone let him get away with his violent and publicity-grabbing antics? Why isn’t anyone putting a stop to it?”

She gave another sigh, but not one of contentment. The back of her right eye throbbed. She sat up, severing the connection between them by putting her feet to the floor. She rubbed the bone beneath her brow, and said it because she knew he wouldn’t stop until he knew what caused her stress.

“Because he’d be the king now if the people hadn’t deposed his family a few centuries ago. He’s a charismatic man, by all accounts—he has about twenty percent of the country under his sway—and he wants what his family lost. He can gain that through marriage to a princess. He and his followers will cause more strife if they don’t get what they want. And now Jazmine’s taken.”

Even in the warm darkness, she saw his skin pale. “My God, Giulia.”

She felt weary tears sting her eyes. “Orakis is unhappy about my possible engagement to Max. Theo Angelis has doubled Max’s security, just in case, but if Orakis found out that you, a commoner, had any chance to marry a princess he’d lose it completely. He has spies in the palace…” She couldn’t say more.

He pulled her hands into his, his thumbs on the pressure-point for headache—the webbing between thumb and index finger—rubbed in slow, firm circles on one hand and then the other. “How long have you been carrying this around?”

“Since yesterday morning.” She bit her lip. “Charlie and Jazmine don’t think I’ve made the connection yet, but now I’ve taken the title, as the law stands I have to marry either a Grand Duke—and Max is the only single one—or Orakis.”

“What a mess.” Toby swore, long and fluent and with all his inventiveness. “No wonder I was hijacked by ASIO.”

She nodded, fighting tears of exhaustion. “When I realised the enormity of my decision—what it means for Hellenia, and for me—I just blanked out. I needed you.” It felt like there was a jagged rock in her throat.

“And instead of lightening your burden I added to it with my wants and fears.” His voice was filled with darkness, but turned inward, upon himself.

“I’ve put you in danger.”

With a clear effort, he shook off the darkness and grinned. “Don’t worry about me, beloved. After fighting the worst bushfires on record as a volunteer, and running into collapsing buildings for a decade, a two-bit terrorist doesn’t frighten me.”

“You don’t understand,” she said quietly, feeling sad and lost. “You haven’t been here to know what it’s like, being a royal in a country that’s seen so much war. It’s not as the media portrays it. The reality beneath the glamour…” She rubbed her brow with her free hand. “A month ago, I was a simple ballet teacher. Now I’m this. The people have suffered so badly and I can help them, I am helping, but I don’t know if I’m up to the task for life. But I’ve accepted the position, and it’s all too much. There are so many strings to the position, I feel pulled every which way. I don’t know what to do.”

“Come here, beloved.” His arms opened to her.

With a sigh of relief she went to him, and he gathered her onto his lap, caressing her hair. “I liked your hair longer,” he whispered. “But you’re still so beautiful.”

Her head on his shoulder, she smiled. “That’s my Toby, with all your nonsense compliments to make me laugh.”

He stilled. “But you are beautiful, my Giulia.”

“Don’t,” she whispered. “You can’t fix this by saying nice things to me. I need you to be serious.” She looked up at him, seeing his perplexed frown. “I can’t talk to Charlie about this—he’s under enough pressure about his own future. Theo Angelis is too sick to handle any dissention. He can’t be the King any longer. His heart’s failing and he wants everything tied up neatly before he dies. Theo Angelis needs me to do my duty. He believes even marrying Orakis is an honour if it brings peace to Hellenia. And Max…”

“Yes?” he asked quietly, when she didn’t go on. “And Max?”

Her thoughts jumbled again, filled with sorrow, anger, regret and useless, hopeless wishing. “And he’s like you.”

Toby started and stared at her. “What?”

“He’s like you.” Sudden restlessness filled her. She jumped to her feet, pacing up and down the aisle. “He sees…”

“What does he see? Why is he me?”

She’d been silent or wise for the sake of others, hiding her true feelings for weeks. Now, with Toby here, she couldn’t control the words bubbling from her mouth. “He doesn’t see me. He sees the anorexic, and wants to help me—just like you.” She gulped and breathed, trying to regain control. “If I ever get married I want my man to adore me, to want me so much he can’t wait to touch me. Is it so much to ask, to have one man see me as a woman he can want and love?”

“Of course it’s not, beloved,” he said quietly. “You deserve all that and more.”

She sighed and looked away from his intense, beautiful face, but said it bluntly. “I’ve always been a romantic—you know that—but now it’s turned against me. I’m a twenty-six-year-old virgin. I can’t stand the thought of my first time being with Orakis for political purposes, or a man who pities me.” She felt a rush of hot bile rising in her throat. Control, Lia. You will not revert to anorexic behaviour! You’re stronger than that now.

As she leaned against the bookshelf, warm, strong arms came round her, turning her to him, holding him against his body, so big and dependable and perfect. “I adore you, Giulia,” he whispered. “I love touching you.”

“I know you love me, but it’s not the kind of love I want,” she cried, struggling against him, beautiful temptation and dearest friend. “I’m not a child any more, Toby, I’m a woman! I’m sorry, but I’d almost rather face Orakis in the bedroom than a man who doesn’t truly want me, who doesn’t even think I’m pretty!”

He stilled. Completely. The moon, slanting in through a window, showed the stunned look on his face. “You think I don’t find you pretty?”

She stared up at him. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s been right in front of me for years.” Her hands pushed against him until he let go. “I know what I am, Toby.” Suddenly she wanted to say it, even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye tomorrow. “I’m the woman men see as their sister, the future aunt to their kids, everyone’s dear friend who never gets married, never has a lover.”

With the lightning-fast reflexes that made him such a magnificent firefighter, he had her back in his arms, plastered against him so fast she lost her breath. “How can you believe I’d cross the world for you, or tell you I want to marry you, from pity or fear? How could you not know how beautiful you are to me?”

Even with her body thudding and throbbing with desire from being near him, she laughed in disbelief. “How could I think it? How could I not think it? I’m nothing like the girls you’ve dated. I’m not blonde with a bubbly personality. I’m a tall, dark, quiet homebody. I do the bushwalking-and-kitchen scene, not the nightclub circuit. We’ve been friends fifteen years, and you’ve never once seen me, or showed a single sign of interest in me, until today.”

His eyes burned into hers, pure blue fire. “I see you. I’ve always seen you.”

“Yes,” she said, filled with sadness. “I know you see me—but I also know how you see me. It took my becoming a princess to have you stop wrapping me in cotton wool. For ten years you’ve been wearing kid gloves with me. But I’m not your anorexic little sister—I’m a woman, Toby. I’m a woman! I can’t marry you because you think you need to save me again. It would destroy both of us in the end.”

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.

CHAPTER THREE

Two weeks later

“IT’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 exploiting 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.”

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