The truth of her feelings and the hopelessness of her love had hit her so hard she had shut down inside.
CHAPTER TEN
FIVE THOUSAND PEOPLE were settled in the amphitheatre, watching the Gala, enjoying the multitude of performances taking turns on the stage, the glorious sunshine, the food and the drink.
Amy, sitting with the rest of the museum staff, tried to enjoy what was a truly spectacular occasion. A world-famous operatic duo from the US had just completed a medley of songs from The Phantom of the Opera, and now a Russian ballet troupe had taken to the stage, holding everyone spellbound.
When they were done, the compère came bounding back on. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, in a small addition to our official programme, I am proud to welcome to the stage His Royal Highness, Prince Helios.’
Huge cheers broke out around the amphitheatre as the crowd rose to their feet to applaud the popular Prince.
Amy’s stone-filled feet moved of their own accord and she stood too. The coldness rippling through her was such that it felt as if someone had injected ice into her veins. All the hairs on her arms had sprung upright. Nausea didn’t churn—no, it turned and twisted, as if her stomach had been locked in a superfast waltzer. And yet the tightness in her chest remained, coiling even tighter if that were possible.
Helios started his address by thanking everyone for attending, then launched into a witty monologue about his grandfather, which led him neatly into entreating the audience and the hundreds of millions of worldwide viewers to visit the exhibition of the King’s life now being held in the palace museum.
And then he cleared his throat.
Amy’s own throat closed.
‘I would also like to take this opportunity to confirm the speculation about my private life that has been documented in the world’s press for these past few weeks. I am honoured to announce that Princess Catalina Fernandez of Monte Cleure has consented to be my wife.’
Such raucous cheers broke out at the news that they drowned out the rest of his speech. The crowd was still whooping when Helios bowed to them all and left the stage, with a grin on his handsome face that looked to Amy’s eyes more like a grimace.
Looking around the crowd, blinking to clear the cold fog enveloping her mind, Amy saw that the happiest faces were those of the Agonites who’d been lucky enough to get tickets for this event.
So now it was official.
Helios and the Princess were betrothed. There could be no backing out of the marriage now; not when the pride of two nations was at stake.
And the tiny spark of hope she hadn’t even realised she carried in her extinguished into nothing.
* * *
Helios shook the hand of yet another post-Gala party guest and silently cursed Talos for disappearing with the violinist, who’d overcome her stage fright and wowed everyone that evening. His grandfather had retired to bed, exhausted after such a full day, leaving Helios and Theseus to welcome all the people on the three-hundred-strong guest list.
Thank goodness protocol dictated that his fiancée acted in no official capacity until their nuptials had been exchanged. He still couldn’t imagine her by his side. Or in his bed.
For the first time he accepted that Amy leaving Agon when he married would be a good thing. The best thing. For all of them.
All he knew was that he wouldn’t be able to commit himself to Catalina as a husband if Amy resided under the palace roof and worked in the palace museum.
He’d thought when she had come back to him that everything would be all right and they could return to the way they’d been. But everything was not all right. Everything was worse.
His feelings for her...
There was a trapdoor looming in front of him and every step he made took him closer to falling through it. But he couldn’t see in which direction the trapdoor lay. He just knew it was there, readying itself to swallow him whole.
As was normal at a Kalliakis party, none of the guests was in a hurry to leave. But, as was not normal, Helios was in no mood to party with them.
He did his duty and danced with the Princess. Again he felt nothing. His body didn’t produce the slightest twinge. Nothing.
When Catalina finally left to catch her flight back to Monte Cleure with her father and brother Helios sought out Theseus, who was still going through the motions with the last of the straggling guests, and bore him away to his apartment.
From the look on his brother’s face he needed a drink as much as Helios did.
For someone with a newly discovered son he adored, and a wedding to the boy’s mother on the horizon, Theseus was acting like someone who’d been told he was to spend the rest of his life locked in the palace dungeons.
Much as Helios himself felt.
He’d never thought of alcohol as a tool for making problems better—on the contrary, he knew it tended to make matters worse. But he wasn’t trying to make himself feel better. That wouldn’t be possible. All he wanted was a healthy dose of numbness, even if only for a short time.
Was Amy waiting up for him?
They hadn’t made their usual arrangement. It had been on the tip of his tongue to say his customary ‘I’ll come to you when I’m done’ that morning, but this time something had stopped him. A sense of impropriety. Indecency. To parade the news of his fiancée to the world, then expect to slip between the covers with his mistress...
An image flashed into his mind of Amy standing in the cathedral in a wedding dress, of his mother’s sapphire ring sliding onto her finger... It was an image he’d been fighting not to see for weeks.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
This was madness.
He took another swig of neat gin and said without thinking, ‘Those people watching the Gala. They have no idea of our sacrifices.’
‘What?’ Theseus slurred, staring at him with bloodshot eyes Helios knew mirrored his own.
‘Nothing.’
Even if he’d wanted to confide in his brother, Theseus was clearly in no state to listen. He knew he should ask him what was wrong, but the truth was he was in no state of mind to listen either.
Moody silence followed, both brothers locked in their own thoughts. The anticipated numbness failed to materialise. All the gin had brought on was the monster of all headaches.
Helios slammed his glass on the table. ‘It’s time for you to crawl to your own apartment—I’m going to bed.’
Theseus downed his drink without a murmur of protest and got to his unsteady feet. At least his brother was drunk enough to pass out without any problems, he mused darkly.
As Theseus staggered out Helios promised himself that he would leave Amy to sleep. It was long past midnight. Soon the sun would rise. To wake her would be cruel. To go to her at all, tonight of all nights, would be the height of crassness.
Dammit. He’d just become officially engaged. Couldn’t he show some decorum for one night?
But the memory of Amy’s ashen face during the exhibition tour refused to leave him and he knew he had to go to her. He had to see for himself that she was all right.
He walked down the passageway, promising himself that he would leave if there was no answer. When he reached her bedroom door, he rapped on it lightly.
Within seconds he heard the telltale turning of the lock.
When she’d opened the door Amy gazed up at him with an expression he couldn’t distinguish. One that combined anguish, desire and need in one big melting pot.
And as he stepped into her welcoming arms he realised that, for all his talk of sacrifice, he didn’t yet know how great his biggest sacrifice would be.
* * *
With the early-morning sunlight peeking through the curtains, Amy gazed at Helios’s sleeping form.
Hours after the post-Gala party had finished he’d come to her. And for the first time since they’d started their relationship all those months ago, nothing physical had happened between them.
Until he’d quietly knocke
d on her door she’d been trying to sleep, without any luck. She hadn’t wanted to stay awake for him. She’d been scared that he wouldn’t come to her and equally scared that he would.
Images had tortured her: thoughts of Helios and the Princess dancing together, becoming an official couple, discussing their wedding plans, showing the world how perfect they were for each other. Her stomach had ached so much it had been as if she’d swallowed a jug of battery acid.
With the hours ticking down until morning, she’d assumed the worst. She’d seen the helicopters and limousines taking their honoured guests away from the palace and had been unable to stop herself from wondering which of them carried the Princess.
Then, just as any hope that he would appear had gone, Helios had arrived at her door with bloodshot eyes, exhaustion etched on his face. He’d stripped off his clothes, climbed into her bed, pulled her into his arms and promptly fallen asleep.
How many more nights would he do this? How many more nights would they have together?
The official announcement had set off an alarm clock in her battery-acid-filled stomach and its persistent tick was excruciating.
Careful not to wake him, she sat up, doing nothing but drink him in.
How many more nights could she do this? Simply look at him?
Later that day he would be flying to the US for the start of an official state visit.
In her heart she knew that now, this moment, truly was the beginning of the end for them.
She reached out a hand and gently palmed his cheek. He nuzzled sleepily into her hand and kissed it. Lightly, she began to trace her fingers over the handsome face she loved so much, from his forehead—over which locks of hair had fallen—to his cheekbones, then over the bump on his nose, the bow of his lips, the jawline where thick stubble had broken out, and down his neck. She took his silver chain between her fingers and then touched the mandarin garnet necklace around her own neck.
It had been a birthday present from him, one he’d given her shortly after they’d started sleeping together. Of all the gifts he’d bestowed upon her, it was the one to which she felt the closest. The meaning behind it, the fact Helios had gone out of his way to find an item of jewellery made with her birthstone, meant that she’d swallowed her guilt and taken it out of the padded envelope where the rest of the jewellery he’d given her remained.
Whatever lay in the future, she knew she would never take it off again.
Slowly she explored his naked body, trailing her fingers over his collarbone and shoulder, down his right arm, lacing them through the fine black hair covering his forearm. When she reached his hand and took each finger in turn, gently pressing into them, he gave a light squeeze in response but otherwise remained still.
After repeating her exploration down his left arm, she moved to his chest. Helios’s breathing had changed. It no longer had the deep, rhythmic sound of sleep. A heavier, more ragged sound was coming from him.
Over his pecs she traced her hands, encircling his dark brown nipples, catching the dark hair that was spread finely across his chest, pressing her palm down where the beat of his heart was strongest, then moving them across his ribcage and down to his abdomen...
His erection stopped her in her tracks.
Sucking in a breath, she ignored it, outlining the smooth skin on either side and drawing her fingers over his narrow hips. Gently spreading his muscular thighs, she knelt between them and carried her exploration down his left leg, tracing the silvery scar on his calf—the result of being thrown from a horse at the age of nine—and down to his feet. Then she moved to his right leg, this time starting from his toes and making her way up...all the way to the line where his thigh met his groin.
Helios’s hand dug into her hair, spearing it, his breaths now erratic. Still only using her fingers, she traced the long stretch of his erection, cupping him, delighting in his tortured groans, before she put him out of his misery and ran her tongue along its length, then took him into her mouth.
For an age she moved him with her hand whilst licking and sucking. His hand cradled her scalp, massaging it, but he let her set the pace. Heat bubbled deep inside her, burning her from her core outwards, enflaming her skin. Giving him pleasure gave her as much joy as when he pleasured her.
When she sensed him getting close to breaking point she pulled away, unable to give him the playful smile she would normally give. She had never felt less playful when making love to him.
Moving up to straddle him, she gazed into his eyes, thrilling to see the heady desire ringing in them. He cupped her neck and pulled her down to meet his mouth. His tongue swept into hers, his kiss full of all the dark, potent neediness flowing through her own veins.
Slowly, with their lips and tongues still entwined, she sank onto him until he was fully sheathed inside her. Breaking the kiss, she pulled back to sit atop him, needing to look at him.
As his groans became louder he placed one hand flat on her breast, whilst his other hand held tightly to her hip, steadying and supporting her. Then, with her hands resting lightly on his shoulders, she began to move. The feel of him deep inside her, the friction of their movements, it all built on the sensations already whirling inside her.
She could make love to this man every day for the rest of her life and it still wouldn’t be enough. She would always want—need—more. Even if they had all the time in the world it wouldn’t be enough time for her to look at his face, to touch him, to hear his voice, to witness his smile.
But there was only now, this moment in time when it was just them. There was no palace, no duty...
Just them. One man. One woman.
She wished she could hold on to it for ever.
She tried to hold back the climax growing within her, tried to blunt her responses, but it was all too intoxicating. With a cry that was as much dismay as it was delight, the pulsations swept through her, starting deep in the very heart of her and rippling out to embrace her every atom.
She threw herself down to bury her face in his neck and his arms immediately wrapped around her. A strangled groan escaped his mouth and he gave one last thrust upwards as his own climax tore through him with the same strength as her own. Both of them rode it for as long as they could until there was nothing left but their breaths, burning heavily into each other’s necks.
* * *
The hotel, arranged by Talia under Helios’s instructions, had a charming air to it, an ambience that carried through inside, through the cosy lobby and into the even cosier restaurant.
It was Agon’s oldest hotel and a favourite on the tourist trail. It was guaranteed to be busy, whatever the time of year. Thus, two women could meet and dine together during the lunchtime rush without attracting any attention. It was safe for Amy’s birth mother here. No one would know who she was. No one would report back to her husband. Ignorance would continue to be bliss for him.
As strange as she knew it to be, Amy would have recognised Neysa even if she hadn’t known who she was. Her heart stuttered as she was caught in the gaze of eyes that were identical to her own.
This was the woman who had carried her in her womb for nine months.
This was the woman who had abandoned her.
Neysa Soukis hesitated before asking, ‘Amy...?’
‘Neysa?’ Calling her Mum or Mother was not an option.
Grasping the outstretched hand, Amy marvelled at how it was an identical size to her own. It was like seeing a model of herself twenty years from now, although she doubted she would ever be as well groomed. Neysa was expensively dressed and immaculately coiffured.
After ordering drinks and some mezzes Neysa gave a brittle smile, opened her mouth and then closed it again.
Amy filled the silence. ‘Why didn’t you want to meet me?’
Fingers similar to her own but older, and with buffed nails, drummed on the table. ‘You are a stranger to me.’ Her English accent was heavy and unpractised.
‘You carried me. You gave birth to me.’
You abandoned me. ‘Weren’t you curious?’
‘I have a life now. Husband. A son.’
Yes... Her son. Leander. The man-child Neysa doted on.
‘What made you change your mind?’
She gave a harsh bark of laughter. ‘The threat that my husband would learn of you.’
That would be Helios’s doing. He was not a man one could say no to. Neysa was here because Helios had effectively blackmailed her, not because she wanted to meet the child she’d given up.
‘Leander could tell your husband.’
‘Leander would never tell.’
Neysa’s confidence in this statement didn’t surprise her. Helios had done some more digging into the mother-son relationship and discovered that Leander’s father had all but given up on him. Neysa was the one to lavish him with love and the all-important money. He was dependent on her. If she withdrew her funds he would, heaven forbid, have to get a job and keep it.
If her husband was to learn that Neysa had been keeping such a monumental secret from him throughout their twenty-five-year marriage who knew how he would react? Both Neysa and Leander might be thrown off the gravy train they worshipped so much.
A waiter appeared with a tray of drinks.
‘Did you ever think of me?’ Amy asked when they were alone again.
A flicker of something she couldn’t decipher crossed Neysa’s face. ‘Many times.’
She was lying. Amy didn’t know how she could be certain of this, but certain she was. Neysa had forged a new life for herself, with a rich husband two decades her senior. Amy was a dirty little secret she couldn’t afford to let anyone find out about. She had no interest in her child. Her only interest was in protecting her secret.
‘I knew your father would take good care of you,’ Neysa explained earnestly. Too earnestly.
She had known nothing of the sort, and neither had she tried to find out. For all she knew Amy might have been dumped in an orphanage. She’d had no way of knowing that Elaine—the woman who had taken Neysa into her home and trusted her with her young son, the woman Neysa had betrayed in such a heinous way without one word of remorse—had raised Amy as her own.
Helios Crowns His Mistress Page 11