village as part of the tribe of local kids, running, playing, going to the local school, getting into mischief, falling for the misbegotten mutts that were the family pets. He’d eaten at Sophia’s kitchen table with Sophia and Nikos—they’d both been granted leave of absence from the palace staff to take care of this sickly princeling.
They were sharing the rambling old house with Sophia’s two grown sons and their wives, and a tribe of grandchildren. Sophia had tucked him into bed each night—a bedroom he shared with Sophia’s oldest grandson. She’d hugged him and kissed him and he’d slept as he’d never slept before or since.
His mother’s words had stayed with him as he returned to the palace. You can take him home. That was what it had felt like. He’d wanted so much to go back. His time in Australia had been a desperate attempt to relive that experience—being normal—being a kid again.
And in a way it had worked. He’d fallen in love with Holly in the same way a six-year-old had fallen in love with Sophia. Or actually in a very different way, he thought ruefully. But there were similarities. He’d escaped into… love.
But both times had ended. Both times he’d been called back to the palace, to the place where shows of emotion were regarded as weakness. Where noise and mess, pets and mischief were not tolerated. Where the word home had no place. But he had no choice. It was his duty. It was his birthright.
He was needed now. He had to go back.
With Holly. It had to be with Holly.
She’d hate it, he thought. He had no right to ask this of her, even for a short while. But it was too soon to send her back to Australia.
Hell, he didn’t want her back at the palace, confined to royal protocol. His fantasy with Holly had never included royal trimmings.
He looked through the open bathroom door to the bedroom beyond. Deefer was watching him from the doorway. The pup’s intelligent little face was cocked to the side as if he knew his master was troubled.
‘Can you be a royal dog?’ he asked.
Deefer stared back at him, appearing to ponder the question. Then, bored, he gazed around him.
The bed had a massive brocade cover, tumbled now and lying half over the end of the bed. It had magnificent gold tassles on the side.
Deefer barked at the closest tassle. Then he crouched low, pounced, grabbed the tassle and headed for the main door. Dragging the priceless brocade with him.
Maybe not, Andreas thought ruefully. Maybe Deefer wasn’t a royal dog as Holly wasn’t a royal princess.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and flicked off the taps. He reached for his towel and padded through to find his clothes. A suit. Clothes to make him a prince again.
With wife? With dog?
Only if they both learned to toe the royal line.
They were on opposite sides of the helicopter again. This machine wasn’t meant for lovers. Nor was it meant for man and wife.
She didn’t feel like a wife right now. She was on her way to being a royal princess. She felt small and insignificant and scared.
Andreas was staring out the window to the land below. Aristo.
A reception committee was waiting. From the helicopter she could see a cluster of waiting suits, of media jostling for position.
‘The press?’ she asked in a small voice and Andreas sighed.
‘It’s only to be expected. Our marriage has caused enormous interest. However hopefully they’ll back off now I’ve done the right thing.’
‘Now I’ve done the right thing…’
He was still staring below. Preoccupied. How could he know that her heart felt as if it had been pierced?
‘They would have had my hide if I hadn’t married you,’ he said grimly, almost to himself. ‘It’s what being a royal’s all about. You’re pressured from day one. Your life’s not your own. Hell, if I’d been able to follow my own course… You’re better out of it, Holly.’
He turned to her then and she had to fight—really fight—to get her face under control. She felt sick.
‘I… How long do I need to stay?’ she managed.
‘I’ll talk to Sebastian.’
And that was that. He’d talk to the future king. He’d do what was required.
The last three days she’d allowed herself to hope. No, she’d allowed herself to believe that there was truly a marriage, for that was what it had felt like.
I’ll talk to Sebastian.
The course of their marriage was in the hands of the Prince Regent, Sebastian. Naturally.
This had been truly time out of frame, she thought dully as the helicopter landed, as the doors were hauled open to readmit the world. Three days of memories to last her for the rest of her life.
How could it be enough?
Maybe it had to be enough. They were taken over the moment they landed. The moment the doors were open there were flashlights going everywhere, almost blinding her.
Andreas climbed out first and helped her after him. He held her hand and she clung.
She was wearing a tight-fitting, little green dress—a sundress. She should be corporate, she thought. To face this she needed power clothes. Shoulder pads. Business black.
‘How was the honeymoon?’ someone yelled, and there were chuckles and questions, fielded by Andreas like an expert. All she could do was cling like a limpet and hope it’d soon be over.
‘How does it feel to be a royal wife?’ someone called and Andreas was before her.
‘Holly’s not intended to be a royal wife,’ he said smoothly. ‘Yes, we’ve wed, but Holly’s life is in Australia. She runs one of the most beautiful cattle stations in her country. I’ll never ask her to give that up to take on royal duties.’
There was a moment’s shocked hush. Then a torrent of follow-up interrogation, all of which could be summed up in the one phrase.
‘You mean it’s not a real marriage?
‘I didn’t say that,’ Andreas said smoothly. ‘We were married before God and we intend to keep our vows. But marriage means different things for different people. Christina and I had a royal marriage where both of us were expected to play a role in public life. But Holly’s not a royal wife. To ask that of her would be unfair.’
‘So you’re going back to Australia?’ someone demanded of her. ‘When?’
‘There are many things to be sorted,’ Andreas interceded smoothly. ‘We’ll let you know.’
‘But you’ll attend royal functions until then?’ someone called.
‘She
