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
