Chapter 6
High-pitched squeals and raucous laughter permeated the jeep’s thin windows, overpowering the loud crunching of its wheels on the stony driveway, and Tia leaned forward in her seat. “Is this your friend’s farm?”
She had not seen a sign, at least not one that had been obvious, but then she had kept her eyes on her nails for the past twenty minutes or so, pretending to peel off the nonexistent paint. She winced as she touched the tender skin on the nail bed. God, that really hurt. Next time she needed to pretend to be preoccupied, she would play a game of “I spy” with herself.
“Yes. We are here.”
Tia arched an eyebrow. Had she just imagined his relieved tone? Was it possible it may even have passed for happy? Surely not.
The noises solidified as an older couple came towards the car, followed by three small children and a baby on the woman’s hip. The baby’s dark, curly hair was pressed against the woman’s shoulder, a pacifier in his mouth.
Their smiles were beaming as their gazes fell on Damon, only to droop questioningly as they moved to her. Excited voices flew through the air as Damon opened his door and got out. She pressed herself farther into the seat, watching the display in front of her. All the members of the house greeted Damon one by one as if he were Santa at Christmas.
His blue eyes found hers, and his brows drew together at her lack of movement. She had to get out of the jeep. Her brain knew that, her stomach knew that, and yet her feet refused to budge.
The baby gurgled loudly and reached out two chubby arms in Damon’s direction, and the older woman said something before he turned to take the baby from her, securing it against his chest. He laughed and joked with the older couple, then nodded his head in Tia’s direction, his smiling mouth in stark contrast to the seriousness of his eyes. If she had not seen it herself, she would not have believed it. Yes, he had been good with the mare, but this was a human baby and it just did not seem to fit.
Not that she had much experience with men and babies, or even just men. She had never seen her brothers holding babies, and certainly not Antoine. He was always too grave for that. She had wondered what kind of father he would make, but then she had never seen herself with his children. Who was she kidding? She had never been a baby-loving female herself. Now, looking at Damon, her stomach fluttered, causing stirrings that were as alien as her existence in this wig.
Inhaling deeply, Tia clutched the door handle. She couldn’t stay in here forever. She had not been brought up to hide from a problem, and this man with his smile and his way with babies that made her insides feel like they were made of jelly was definitely a problem.
Pushing open the door, she stepped out. Her skin prickled at the sudden silence as she made her way around to the front of the jeep, where three curious faces peered at her from behind their grandmother’s legs.
“Hello. My name is Anna, and this is my husband, Elias. Welcome to our home.”
Tia looked into the woman’s warm brown eyes and smiling face, and her heart lightened. She reached out her hand and laid it gently on the older woman’s, smiling widely. “Thank you. I am Tia. Tia Liakos.”
Was it her imagination, or did Anna hold on to her arm a little bit longer than necessary? Was she staring at her a bit harder than normal, as if she could see past the wig and the huge, shapeless clothes to the real Christiana?
“Damon, Damon. Come play with us!”
The children’s voices cut through her dark thoughts, and she smiled as they grabbed at Damon’s clothes. What would her father or Antoine do if this happened to them? She knew her father loved her, but she could never remember running to him and hanging on to him as these children were hanging on to Damon.
“I would, paidia, but I have to see to my, erm . . . ” He pushed his free hand over his head. It was a gesture she had begun to recognise as something he did when he was unsure.
Could it be her? He was unsure of how to explain her? A spark stirred low in her belly at the thought, and she extinguished it as quickly as it appeared. There was no need to be fanciful. Just because she felt a little bit of an attraction to him, that did not mean it was mutual. Besides, they did not really know each other. He was probably debating between the labels of intruder or general pain in the neck.
She cleared her throat, “Damon is helping me out and giving me a lift to Arios,” she explained as the youngsters eyed her with a less than impressed look before being ushered back to the house by their grandfather.
“Arios? But that is miles from here.”
She turned towards Anna, whose brows were drawn together. “Yes but we ran into a bit of bother on the way there so had to take a detour.”
“A bit of bother? You mean the landslides? Yes, there are helicopters circling nearby,” the older woman carried on.
Tia’s stomach sank, and her gaze clashed with Damon’s as one word popped into her head. Press? Surely not. That man was one person, and he wasn’t even sure who they were.
“Yes, the landslides. Some of the roads were closed, and we are going into the mountains. We are taking the long way around,” Damon said, nodding slowly at her before handing the wriggling baby on his hip back to Anna.
“Via Tethys? You really are taking the scenic route. In that case, come inside and have something to eat, and then I will pack you some things to take.”
Tia pasted a wide smile on her face. Her cheeks hurt, but she should not have lied. It was either that or tell the truth, and that was an absolute no—at least not yet. After all this had finished, she would come back and repay them for their generosity.
“That sounds fantastic. You have a lovely farm, Anna.”
“Thank you, Tia. But Damon has the nicer stables. Any news on the foal?” The older woman’s voice was muffled as she turned towards the house, and she dipped her head to brush her lips over her grandson’s downy baby hair.
Tia rubbed her hand over her stomach. She must be hungry. That would explain the weird pains she was feeling right now. It had nothing to do with the feeling of Damon behind her as they both walked into the farm kitchen after Anna or the sight of the baby resting peacefully in Anna’s arms.
“The foal was born last night. Athena Olympus. Mr. Kavilas had to attend.” Damon’s voice was drowned under the sound of the tap as he washed his hands, and Tia shuffled to the table, sitting down heavily. The hard wood felt like heaven against her car-weary body, and she rested against the high wooden chair back.
“Mr. Kavilas? I hope everything was okay. See, I told you not to worry, Damon. Even though he said the royals were foaling as well, he would be there for you too if you needed him.” Anna’s voice carried over the sound of sizzling from the pans, and Tia sat up straighter.
Anna had told Damon that? Hope blossomed in her breast. An ally. Finally, her mission could begin in earnest. Sure, it had floundered at the petrol station, but here was her chance to begin again. Finding out what people thought of her family was the next part of her plan. She needed to see how true the polls on the internet about her country favoring a republic were, especially with the plan she had in mind. She needed real life people and she didn’t have to wait. She could start it right here and now. And so what if Damon was watching over her shoulder? So what if that made her scalp tingle and her toes curl? She had made her decision, and from the comments he made about her family—based on what factual information, she had no idea—he had clearly made his decision about her. In this case, two negatives did not equal a positive.
• • •
Damon dropped his elbows on the table, rubbing his hands over his knuckles. It had been one hell of a journey, and it wasn’t even over. Hell, it hadn’t even started, not really.
“So, how did you two meet?”
His jaw dropped at Anna’s words, and he flung her a wide-eyed stare. Huh? “No, we’re not . . . I mean, it’s not . . . ” He stopped and stared at Tia. “She happened to—”
“I think what Damon is trying to say, Anna, is that
my car broke down on his farm and he is giving me a lift,” Tia cut in, and Damon exhaled deeply before arching an eyebrow and shooting her a curious look.
Was he imagining it, or was Tia laughing at him? Her full lips were pulled up into a semi-smile, and she looked almost serene, like the famous Mona Lisa painting by Leonardo da Vinci.
“Yes, that. What she said,” he added quickly.
“A lift to Arios? But that is so far for you, Damon. Why not just call a tow truck?” Anna’s voice carried over the sounds of the kitchen as she fluttered quickly like a hummingbird from one pot to the next.
Damon’s stomach dipped at the question. His ears burned, and he knew if he turned to look at her, he would see Tia’s gaze on him.
It was a reasonable question. The only thing was, he didn’t have a reasonable answer. How could he tell them he had to keep an eye on her because he suspected that she was sent by his father to spy on him? And, oh yeah, by the way, Anna and Elias, although you’ve known me for years, I just found out that King Phillipe of Montcroix is my real father. I have a letter from him and everything. Not to mention that Tia was not answering any questions about herself that encouraged him to think otherwise.
Mm, that was not an appropriate lunchtime conversation or any conversation he would be having soon.
“Because . . . because . . . ” He snapped his fingers, making the baby’s bottom lip wobble at the sudden noise and the two women’s eyes widen. “Tia does not have a phone and she helped with the foal, so this is payback, er, I mean, repaying a favour.”
Payback. That was what he wanted to give his father, and he would when the time was right, like when the elections for the next monarch of Montcroix began in earnest in a few months. He already had it planned. He would use those same letters that Phillipe was planning to discredit him with if he did not return them that sickeningly and falsely pledged Phillipe’s love and devotion to his mother and then he would use the final letter Phillipe wrote to him as the final nail in the coffin.
“Helped with the foal? Are you a vet, Tia?”
He was grateful he was out of the line of fire, even if he had just pushed Tia into it.
Her brown hair moved stiffly as she shook her head at Anna. “No, just some bits of knowledge here and there,” she said, and if he didn’t know better, he could have sworn Tia just threw him a daggered stare.
“In that case, that’s very, er, kind of you, Damon, to help Tia like that. Now, can you two just watch these for me? I need to change Alex’s nappy, and then I am going to check on Elias. He spoils those girls rotten if I let him!”
Damon nodded quickly at Anna and pushed back the chair. It squeaked as it scraped the tiled floor, and his stomach grumbled its approval at the herby smells from the pot. He dipped a spoon in quickly, wrinkling his nose. Pepper. It needed pepper. Grabbing the shaker, he shook some in.
“I did not take you for a cook.”
The smell of herbs intermingled with the roses that he would forever associate with Tia, and he straightened his back and locked his shoulders as he heard the soft tap of her boots against the floor.
“Adding pepper doesn’t qualify me for cordon bleu awards.” He knocked the wooden spoon into the pot, stirring faster than he had intended. He had meant it to sound witty. Instead, it sounded sarcastic.
“It smells delicious though. Anna must be some cook. How did you get to know her?”
“I met Jason and his brothers, Anna and Elias’s sons, when we were children at a farming event. Those four little cherubs are Jason’s, and I am godfather to Alex.”
It had been the kind of large family he had ached for as a child. They had had the kind of camaraderie that only exists between siblings. And no matter how much a part of the family he felt, he was still always the outsider. When the time came, he always had to go home.
“Brothers? How many does he have?” He sidestepped as Tia shuffled closer and leant over the food, inhaling deeply. “God, I wish I could cook like this!” Small pink dots lit up her cheeks, and he sucked in his stomach at its unwelcome flip as she turned back to the table.
“Five sons in all. Three are farmers, and the other two work at Skipios Blossom just—”
He stopped as her body seemed to freeze, as if they were children playing a game of musical statues, and her hand floated gently above the table. “North of Arios. That is the honey factory. Yes, I know the one,” she squeaked, before clearing her throat loudly. Too loudly not to make the hairs on the back of his neck rise like someone had just walked over his grave. “Gosh! Five boys. That must have been a fun household. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”
His hand stilled above the pot, and the sauce plopped noisily from the spoon back down. Why did she want to know? Surely Phillipe would have found this out already. The words, “You mean Phillipe has more bastards somewhere?” danced on his tongue, and he pressed his lips together. He knew Phillipe had one son called Antoine and a younger daughter called Adelle, but that was it—as far as he knew.
His chest tightened as the image of his mother flickered through his mind. She had been amazing with the neighbourhood children. He had asked once for a baby brother or sister only to see her weep at the question. He had never asked after that.
Damon shook his head and whirled the spoon around the sauce. The less said about his family, the better. “What about you, Tia? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Her fingers drummed against the table, adding to the spitting noises from the sauce. And he leaned back against the kitchen counter, stirring lazily. He watched through hooded lids as her gaze flicked around the room before landing back on him, holding him with their turquoise depth. They reminded him of the Aegean, and he knew if he stared anymore, he was in danger of drowning.
“I have . . . one brother.”
Her eyes shone like the pebbles he used to collect from the riverbeds as a boy as she ran a finger across her nose, blinking rapidly. His stomach twisted at the sight, and he stepped closer, his feet freezing in place at the slow blink of her long lashes. His breath hitched in his throat as the sounds of the bubbling pot faded.
Her nose twitched, then wrinkled, taking the brightness from her eyes. “Does that smell ready to you? I think it might be burning.”
Damon tore his gaze away from her and turned hastily back to the pot. Heat climbed up his neck and his cheeks as he turned the various dials on the stove. Damn! He had almost lost it then. Maybe he should just take her to Arios instead of Tethys. He rubbed his hand down his face. As much as he loved Anna, the things she sometimes said made him want to groan in frustration. Now Tia knew where they were going, and there went his chance of keeping it a secret and avoiding his father’s cronies.
“Okay, we are back. I can smell that is ready. Thank you, Damon.”
He glanced over his shoulder as Anna and Alex walked in, and he exhaled heavily before relinquishing his spoon to Anna.
Great. What could be better than another hour or so drive with the woman who may be his father’s spy and whose eyes were making him want to wish for the very opposite?
• • •
“Your grandchildren are adorable, Anna.”
Tia pulled the coarse wig’s hair from the baby’s fingers. The last thing she needed was it coming off—and now of all places. From the itch against her skin, it was still loose.
“Thank you, Tia, but I can’t take all the credit. Some of it is their mother, and I have been lucky with my three daughters-in-law.”
Anna’s feet slid silently along the floor as she moved to and fro. Tia lowered her lashes a fraction as Damon skirted around the older woman, gently laying plates for them on the table. This was a side of him she hadn’t expected. This, she acknowledged, looking around the kitchen, was not a side of anyone she had really seen, at least not since university. And even then, the only reason her parents let her study in England was because one of their rules was that she had to stay with her mother’s family in their country mansion instea
d of in the dorms with the other students.
Tia peered around her. It was . . . cozy. Yes, cozy and comfortable. Homey. If her home had not been the palace she had grown up with, that is.
“Though I do have three sons that aren’t married,” Anna continued.
Her stomach jumped as a plate hit the table and the sound resonated around the room, and she pulled Alex closer as he pushed his bottom lip out. She nuzzled his hair and looked up at Damon’s murmured “Sorry” only to see a pink stain dance across his cheek and hear Anna’s small chuckle as he turned back to the sink.
“Three sons? But that would make six boys. Damon said you had only five sons.”
“Biologically I have five, but I have always included Damon. He’s my sixth,” she added, directing a wide maternal smile at his back.
The baby curled into Tia’s lap, and her chest tightened at the small motion. If it were not for her studies, if it were not for her plans, she imagines including something like this in her life.
Christiana, there is nothing wrong with being a queen and having a family. Georgios could have done it!
But Father, Geo would have left his wife in charge of the nursery while he ruled the kingdom. Do you see Antoine in charge of the nursery?
That last argument between her and her father played so many times in her brain she could practically relive it. She was not the ruler Geo would have been. She was stronger, and as much as she adored her brother, her ideas were better for the nation.
“What about you, Tia? You must be—what, twenty-six, twenty-seven? Are you married, or do you have any children?”
Her hands stilled at Anna’s words, and her gaze fell on Damon whose own hands had stilled over the cutlery. “I am twenty-six and, erm, no. No, I do not.”
“You don’t sound too sure,” the older woman teased.
Heat climbed up her neck, making small beads of sweat tickle her forehead, and she rubbed her hand along the back of her neck. “I guess I just have never been asked that question before.” To her face, that is. She had seen the newspapers, despite her press secretary doing her best to keep them out of her vision. And she knew the newspapers were all asking the same question: When would their golden twenty-six-year-old princess settle down? She had been grateful for her parents’ agreement to keep the engagement under wraps till she and Antoine had felt more comfortable announcing it. But that had been two years ago, and she had the feeling that both sets of parents—her own and Antoine’s—were beginning to get restless. Too late for that now!
The Runaway Queen Page 7