They were playing Falafel.
It was a game she and Nikos had played as kids.
When Annia made falafels she formed her little balls of chickpeas and parsley into balls and then rolled them in flour until they were thoroughly coated.
So Athena and Nikos would swim until they were wrinkly as prunes, then race up the beach and roll and roll in the dry sand until every inch of them was coated. Then run round being falafels. They were doing it now-two kids and Nikos. Two kids and their papa.
Completely coated in dry sand, they stood-then Nikos spread his arms and moaned like a great sandy spectre and started chasing them.
The children squealed in delight. The beach at dusk…she’d always thought it was the most magical of times, and here was her son, learning about it for himself. With his papa.
Nicky ran and ran. Christa was far easier to catch but Nikos made it seem as if it was just as hard to catch her. Finally he had them, a child under each arm, and was staggering back to the water to wash them off. Oscar brought up the rear, barking his delight.
And suddenly she was crying.
Damn, she was crying.
Nikos looked up from the beach. And saw her.
He stilled. At his feet the children whooped and splashed in the shallows. But Nikos simply stood-and watched.
And, from nowhere, into her heart came the words he’d used so often.
Dare you.
Dare she take a chance? Dare she forget what had happened ten years ago?
Dare she move forward?
It was too soon. It was too fast.
She had to get rid of these stupid, wussy tears.
She turned and started to go inside.
‘Thena!’ It was a call from the beach, strong and demanding. She should ignore it. She should…
She turned.
He was still watching her.
‘Dare you,’ he called, and she gave a gasp of fright. What was it about this man? How did he know what was inside her head?
Did he know that she loved him?
She turned and headed back to her bed and her stars and her confusion.
If she talked to a thousand stars she might just get some answers.
Or not.
She’d left him for a career.
She’d had a career. She’d succeeded on her terms. Surely enough was enough. Surely he could convince her to stay.
He stood in the shallows and watched her back away from the balcony, head indoors and haul the French windows closed after her.
He’d swear she was crying.
‘Does your mama cry much?’ he asked Nicky conversationally, as if this was a guy to guy discussion of the female sex.
‘Only when she thinks I’m asleep,’ Nicky told him.
‘So she cries at night?’
‘I’m not supposed to know,’ Nicky said. ‘But sometimes when I snuggle into bed with her in the morning her pillow’s soggy.’
‘Why do you think she gets sad at night?’
‘I used to think it was ’cos she was lonely,’ Nicky said. ‘But she’s got me and she’s got Oscar. Only now I know about here…’ He stood and gazed around him, a small boy taking in a small boy’s heaven. ‘Now I think it must be ’cos she was lonely for you.’
‘For…for this island, you mean?’
‘Mama says things and places don’t matter,’ Nicky said. ‘She says only people matter. So I figure it’s you.’
He brought the children up from the cove. Mrs Lavros helped bath them and get them to bed. Athena didn’t appear. Nikos half expected Nicky to want his mother, but they discussed it and decided if she hadn’t wanted to swim she must be very tired indeed. So Nicky himself decided if he was sleeping with Christa and with Oscar there was no need to disturb her.
So Nikos sat beside their tent-cum-bed and started to read them a story-only Nicky objected.
‘I have a book in my bag,’ he told Nikos. ‘It’s really good. Mama lets me read to her. Can I read it to you? Is that okay?’
‘Sure,’ Nikos said, so he sat and watched as his son read his daughter a bedtime story and it was hard not to tear up himself.
It was Thena who wept, he told himself. Real men don’t weep.
What was the concept of a real man?
His father had been a real man. He’d died of a heart attack when Nikos was twelve, and Nikos had adored him.
His father had loved Nikos and had been totally, unconditionally proud of him. Even though he’d been dead for many years, that love lingered on. As did the echoes of his care.
‘Anything happens to me, you care for your mother, Nikos. She’s the light of my life. You and your mother…You’re my whole heart.’
A real man had a family and loved them unashamedly. A real man would face any terror to keep that family safe.
His parents had had disagreements-loud disagreements-but they’d never frightened him. Because they’d always ended in exasperated laughter, in hugs, in his father saying, ‘Your mother is impossible-an impossible woman-how am I to live with such a woman?’-and then cooking his biggest lobster and opening a bottle of wine and playing music his mother didn’t like, too loud.
And his parents dancing and him watching in sleepy contentment until they put him to bed and had the night for each other.
So…so what?
What was between him and Thena…it was a disagreement so enormous that no lobster would be big enough.
But to let that betrayal eat away at them for ever…
Maybe his father would say: ‘So what if Thena left you ten years ago? So what if she didn’t tell you she had your son? You know your actions must have distressed her unutterably, too.’
He couldn’t defend his actions. Was it fair therefore to ask her to defend hers?
What if he could simply say that was past history? Move on.
Move onto family.
To two children. A dog.
To a wife?
Ten years ago he’d asked her to marry him and she’d wept with joy. But things had changed. She no longer trusted him. If he was to ask her to marry him now…she’d assume it was because of the Crown, that he wanted control.
And maybe he did. If he married her he could keep her safe. It would stop Demos in his tracks. He’d be royal himself.
How could he ask her to marry him?
Christa was already fast asleep. Nicky read on, but his voice was starting to stumble. He lifted the book from Nicky’s hands, tucked him under the covers and then thought why not? And he kissed his son goodnight.
Such a little thing-but not small at all. Huge.
How could he ask Thena to marry him?
Dare you?
He left the bedroom and closed the door gently behind him. He turned, and Thena was watching him from the shadows.
He stilled. ‘Hi,’ he said cautiously.
‘Hi, yourself.’
‘I thought you were asleep.’
She was ready for bed. She was in a pale blue wrap, floor-length. Bare toes, though. Her curls were a tangle-had she been trying to sleep?
‘How can I sleep when I keep thinking of you?’ she murmured.
‘That’d give anyone nightmares.’
She tried to smile but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Nikos…’
‘Come up to the tower,’ he said and put his hand out to take hers. She looked down at his hand-appeared to think about it-and then placed her hand in his.
A tiny step…Why it made his heard thud…
It did. His heart definitely thudded. Whoa, he was in trouble here.
Dare you?
He led her up the stairs. On the landing that led to her bedroom he swiftly led her past. It was a bit too soon to face that room.
The stairs grew narrower the higher they climbed. The tower was just that, an eyrie built for a birds-eye view of the whole island. The tower narrowed the higher they climbed, so he was forced to fall behind.
He’d read somewhere-where was it?-that gentle
men always followed their ladies upstairs and preceded them down so they could catch them either way.
Their hands were still loosely linked-she didn’t seem to want to pull away and he’d have rather died-but what he really wanted to do was pick her up and carry her.
She was climbing before him, in her lovely soft robe, her bare feet on the cold stones-if he carried her, then her feet wouldn’t get cold.
But he was aware he was holding his breath. There were so many questions that needed answers, and he thought many of those questions were to be resolved in the next few moments.
He mustn’t push too fast. Picking her up and carrying her might panic her and that was the last thing he intended.
And then they were at the top-a circular walk, built as battlements around the central dome. He didn’t want to think about the dome. The ceiling to Thena’s bedroom. Thena’s.
All around them stretched the warm Mediterranean night. A great moon hung low on the eastern sky, climbing ponderously upward to join the star-filled heavens. The great galaxy of the Milky Way spread above them, stars beyond and beyond and beyond.
‘We used to try and count them,’ Nikos said softly, and her hand tightened in his.
‘It used to scare me-made me feel so small.’
‘And do you feel so small now?’
‘Smaller,’ she whispered. She was leaning back against him as she gazed out in wonder.
To the west was Sappheiros, the largest of the Diamond Isles. North was Khryseis. The lights from the Far Isles glittered through the night, mysterious and beckoning. Closer to home, they could see the lights of boats, riding at anchor; the tiny lights from cottages spread among the mountains; and in the distance the far-off lights of the royal palace. Her royal home?
‘This is yours, Thena,’ he whispered softly into her hair. ‘It’s yours to rule as you will. We always dreamed it would come to you, and now it has. You can’t walk away from it now. It’s your birthright, your heritage…’
‘My duty,’ she whispered back, and he thought he heard the first faint trace of acceptance. ‘Nikos, I can’t do this alone.’
‘You won’t have to, Princess. I’ll be beside you every step of the way. If you can put your career on hold…I know it’s so important to you…’
‘My career is not important.’
For a moment he thought he hadn’t heard right. She was leaning into him, her spine curving against his chest, her dark curls just brushing his chin. She was the loveliest creature. His Thena.
But he had to think past her body. He had to think past what her touch was doing to him.
‘You mean…your career isn’t important any more?’ he asked cautiously.
‘It never was.’ And then, reluctantly it seemed, she pulled away from his grasp. She turned and leaned on the parapet, as if she needed to see him to make him understand what she wanted to say.
‘Don’t get me wrong; I always wanted to be a writer,’ she said, and he knew she was struggling against the emotion of the moment to make her voice prosaic. ‘I always did and maybe I always will. When I was twelve I wanted to be a cutting edge crime reporter. Then I wanted to be a poet. By the time my mother died I wanted to write a history of this island, an exposé of Giorgos’s corruption. I wanted to use my writing to save the world. But then…’
‘But then you were offered a cadetship on a fashion magazine in New York.’
‘No,’ she said, tightly now, as if it was desperately important. ‘I was given the cadetship. It was paid for. I was told it had been arranged that I start work in Manhattan in two weeks. I was told my accommodation was paid for. I was given a one way airline ticket and enough money to keep me for a year. and I was told to get off the island and never come back.’
He stared at her. Disbelieving. All the breath seemed to have been sucked from his body. ‘By?’ But he didn’t need to ask.
‘By Giorgos, of course,’ she said.
‘But you didn’t have to take it.’
‘You think?’
‘You could have refused.’
She shook her head. She closed her eyes as if remembering a nightmare and opening her eyes on it would start the horror all over again.
‘You were just starting to succeed,’ she whispered. ‘Since your papa died you’d worked so hard to make your boat support you and your mother. And you were starting to make it prosper. That’s what Giorgos was afraid of. You were the son of his sister-a royal from his own line. You were starting to make serious money. And you’d just asked me to marry you. If I married the King’s sister’s child, there’d be royalty on both sides; two people the locals knew and trusted. Giorgos feared the islanders would rebel. He said I had to follow his orders or he’d dynamite every boat in the harbour and he didn’t care much if anyone was on them. And he’d run you and your mother off the island. He said the only way I could prevent that happening was by leaving. So…so I left.’
‘Thena…’ He moved towards her but her hands were out, as if to fend him off.
‘No. There’s no use being angry. There’s no use being anything.’
‘If you’d told me…’
‘You would have…done something stupid,’ she whispered. ‘My hero. My Nikos. I knew…or I thought I knew…that your fury on my behalf would know no bounds. I was afraid of him, I was afraid for you and I was afraid for your mother. So I left. I…I hoped you’d follow. That was dumb. Obviously, there were…things that prevented you leaving. So I started work in New York. A couple of months later I realised I was pregnant. I was lucky enough to find a wonderful landlady. I worked right up until Nicky was born, and when he was two months old I went back. I’ve worked ever since. So…’ She took a deep breath. ‘So, yes, I’m proud of my career. I’m proud I supported myself and Nicky. I’ve even enjoyed a lot of it. But don’t say I sacrificed everything for my career. Don’t say it, Nikos. Because it’s just not true and tonight…tonight I want the past to be over. I want to put history behind us. I want to move on.’
‘Thena…’ It was a groan of pain.
He didn’t know where to go from here. He couldn’t think. What she’d gone through. And she’d acted out of love, for him, for everyone.
‘Don’t,’ she said and took his head in both her hands and tugged him forward. ‘What’s done is done. I can’t bear to think of ten years ago. I don’t want to think of it and why should I? All I know is that you’ve come back into my life again. Am I misreading the signs, Nikos, as I misread so badly before? Is it you in there? The Nikos I thought I knew? The Nikos who dared to love me?’
‘Who dared…’
‘Who dared,’ she whispered. ‘When all the rest of the island avoided me for fear of Giorgos, you dared to be my friend. And then you dared to love me. I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t want to know. All I know is that I’m home now, exactly where I want to be, and I’m with the man I want more than anything in the world.’ She hesitated. ‘And I’m trying really hard not to be forward here, but if you don’t kiss me I’ll very likely explode, or die of humiliation, or…’
Or he’d never know. Because enough was enough. He had her in his arms and he was tugging her close with ruthless strength. She was yielding, her lips were meeting his, her hands were tugging him close, closer, deepening the kiss so the night disappeared, melting into the star-filled sky, transforming with a wonder he thought he’d lost and was now magically his again.
Thena. His Thena. Trusting as she’d trusted once before. Weighing up the sorrow, the hurt he knew he’d caused her with the birth of Christa, with his marriage to Marika, and moving on.
Forgiving…even when she didn’t know the truth.
He loved her so much.
He pulled back a little so he could read her face. And what he saw there made his heart twist within him. She was looking at him as if she loved him.
She loved him. She must love him. That one betrayal had been an aberration-not her Nikos. The Nikos she’d known then could never have do
ne such a thing.
And, even if he had, the Nikos kissing her now could surely never repeat such a betrayal.
But right here, right now, she no longer cared. Nikos was right here, right now, his eyes dark and fathomless, waiting for her to say what she needed to say-if she could ever figure out what that was.
Okay, say it, she told herself. Just say it.
‘So…so this is the most romantic place in the Eagle’s Nest?’ she managed.
‘It’s not,’ he said, fast and sure. ‘It’s a place of stone and parapet and view-which is all very well if you want stone and parapet and view, but if you want more…’
‘If I want more?’
His dark eyes flashed with something she wasn’t sure of. Surprise? Laughter? No. Something much, much deeper.
‘I’d surely give it,’ he said softly. ‘But I’ve hurt you so badly in the past.’
‘You have.’
Years ago she’d fallen in love with this man. He’d betrayed that love in the worst possible way, but she’d moved on, she’d grown up and she’d got herself a life. She’d become independent of both Nikos and his island.
But now…She wanted to trust as she’d trusted so long ago. Innocence regained.
Stupid concept, but…
‘You think we could maybe learn to trust each other?’ Nikos asked, and it was as if he was following her thoughts.
‘After so long?’
‘You bore my son,’ he said steadily. ‘You had him alone and I can’t begin to imagine how that must have been for you. I can’t bear to think that you couldn’t contact me-that you couldn’t tell me of his existence. But now…I’m finding there are more things I can’t bear. Like the thought of you leaving. Once you dreamed of writing freelance. Is there any way you could do that here?’
‘So…so you’ll have more time with Nicky?’
He placed his hands on her shoulders and he looked at her as if he could read behind her eyes.
‘I do want my son,’ he said, softly but surely. As if it was a vow. ‘Nicky is my son and from now on I intend to be a father to him, in any way I can. I want him-but I want you, too. Thena, if I’d known…If I’d guessed…’
Betrothed: To the People’s Prince Page 13