he got that too. This child’s mental state was fragile. She did not need angry voices. She did not need anyone arguing about her future.
This place was perfect for an injured child to heal, he thought. A tropical paradise.
He had another paradise for her, though. He watched with concern as Elsa kissed her soundly, promised her no anger and sent her off to bed.
There was no choice. He just had to make this…nanny…accept it.
She washed.
He wiped.
She protested, but he was on the back foot already—the idea of watching while she worked would make the chasm deeper.
They didn’t speak. Maybe the idea of having a prince doing her wiping was intimidating, he thought wryly, and here it was again. Her response before he could voice his thought.
‘An apron beats tassels for this job any day. I need a camera,’ she said, handing him a sudsy breadboard to wipe. ‘No one will believe this.’
‘Aren’t you supposed to rinse off the suds?’
‘You’re criticising my washing? I’m more than happy to let you do both.’
‘I’m more than happy to do both.’
She paused. She set down her dishcloth and turned to face him, wiping her sudsy hands on the sides of her shorts.
She looked anxious again. And territorial.
And really, really cute.
‘Why the limp?’ he asked and she glanced at him as if he was intruding where he wasn’t wanted.
‘It’s hardly a limp. I’m fine. Next question?’
‘Where’s Mr Murdoch?’ he asked, and her face grew another emotion.
‘What?’ she said dangerously.
Uh-oh. But he couldn’t take the question back. It hung between them, waiting for an answer.
‘My researchers said Zoe’s nanny was a Mrs Elsa Murdoch.’
‘Ms,’ she said and glared.
‘So never a Mrs?’
‘What’s that to do with the price of eggs?’
‘It’s merely a polite question.’
‘Polite. Okay.’ She even managed a…polite…smile. ‘So where’s your Princess?’
‘Sorry?’
‘I’m Mrs so there has to be a Mr. I believe I’m simply reversing your question. Is there a matching Princess?’
‘Why would you want to know that?’
‘Exactly,’ she said, and smiled—a smile that confounded him as she turned back to her washing. Only there was nothing left to wash. She let the water out and wiped the sink with care. She waited for him to dry the last glass, then wiped his part of the sink as well, as if it was vital that not a speck of anything remained.
This woman confounded him—but he had to focus on their future. He must.
‘Zoe’s needed back on Khryseis,’ he said, and Elsa’s hand stilled mid-wipe. She couldn’t disguise the fear sweeping over her face.
‘She stays here.’
‘I believe I’m her nearest living relative,’ he said mildly. ‘As such I can challenge your guardianship.’
She didn’t move. Her hand seemed suddenly to be locked on the sink. She was staring downward as if there was something riveting in its depths.
‘Oh…’ He couldn’t mistake the distress on her face. ‘No!’
But it had to be said. Like it or not, the stakes were too high to allow emotion to hold sway.
‘I’m her cousin,’ he said, gently but as firm as he needed to be. ‘It’s obvious you’re struggling to care for her. I can…’
‘You can’t.’ She whirled to face him at that. Her voice was low enough not to disturb Zoe, but loud enough to make him feel her fury. And her fear. ‘She’s been with me for four years. I’m her godmother and her guardian. Her mother was my best friend and I promised Amy I’d care for her. Her father was a colleague and I loved him too. You…did you know any of them?’
‘I knew Christos.’
‘Yeah, close family,’ she mocked. ‘He never mentioned you. Not once. He said royalty on Khryseis was a shambles, the King was concerned only with himself, the King controlled all three of the Diamond Isles and the original royal families of each island were helpless. Christos was frightened of the royal family. He came here to escape what he saw as persecution. He hated them.’
Okay, he thought. Stick to facts. Get over this patch of ground as fast as possible and move on.
‘King Giorgos gave Christos a dreadful time,’ he told her, keeping his voice as neutral as he could. ‘Christos and his mother left Khryseis when he was seventeen. Did he tell you he was first in line to the crown of Khryseis’s original royal family?’
‘No.’
‘He was. That’s why Giorgos made life hell for him. He made life hard enough for me and I was only second in line. So we both left and made our lives overseas, but when Giorgos died…’
‘Giorgos is dead?’
‘Without an heir. So Christos should be Crown Prince. It’s taken weeks to get this far. To find he was dead. No one on Khryseis knew he’d died.’
‘His mother wasn’t well when her son died.’ He could see facts and emotions swirling, fighting for space as she took in his words. ‘I guess…I imagined it was up to her to tell others if she wanted. But she was frail already, and her son’s death made things…Well, she died three months later.’
‘So Zoe lost her grandmother as well.’
Her eyes flew to his. She hadn’t expected that response, he thought, and wondered what she had expected.
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you for recognising that. It did make things much harder.’
‘So then you stepped in.’
‘There was no one else.’
‘And now we have a mess,’ he said, choosing his words with care. ‘Yes, Christos hated the royal family, but it was King Giorgos he feared and Giorgos’s line is finished. The three Diamond Isles have splintered into three principalities. As Christos’s only child, Zoe’s the new Crown Princess of Khryseis. She’ll inherit full sovereign power when she’s twenty-five but until then, like it or not, I’m Prince Regent. Whether I want that power or not, the island’s desperate for change. The infrastructure’s appalling but I only
