‘Nobody has touched it since she was admitted into hospital.’
‘There’s a spare room in my apartment that will make a perfectly functional office.’
‘Fiona used that room when she first came here, but it proved problematic. The research papers I collated and my own notes only give the facts about my grandfather’s life. I want this biography to show the man behind the throne. As I know you’re aware, this project is going to be a surprise for my grandfather so any questions need to be directed to me. With the time constraints we’re working under it is better for me to be on hand for whatever you need.’
‘Whatever you feel is for the best.’
A black eyebrow rose at her tone but he nodded. ‘Are you happy with your apartment?’
‘It’s perfectly adequate.’
Apart from being in the same wing as his.
How was she going to be able to concentrate on anything whilst being in such close proximity to him? Her stomach was a tangle of knots, her heart was all twisted and aching...and her head burned as her son’s gorgeous little face swam before her eyes.
Toby deserved better than to have been conceived from a lie.
She knew nothing of this man other than the fact that he was a prince in a nation that revered its monarchy.
He was descended from warriors. He and his brothers had forged a reputation for being savvy businessmen. They’d also forged a reputation as ruthless. It didn’t pay to cross any of them.
Theseus was powerful.
Until she got to know this man she couldn’t even consider telling him about Toby. Not until she knew in her heart that he posed no threat to either of them.
‘Only “adequate”?’ he asked. ‘If there is anything you feel is lacking, or anything you want, you need only say. I want your head free of trivia so you can concentrate on getting the biography completed on time.’
‘I’ll be sure to remember that.’
‘Make sure you do. I have lived and breathed this project for many months. I will not have it derailed at the last hurdle.’
The threat in his voice was implicit.
Now she believed what Giles had told her when he’d begged her to take the job—if she failed Hamlin & Associates would lose their best client and likely their reputation in the process.
‘I have ten days to complete it,’ she replied tightly. ‘I will make the deadline.’
‘So long as we have an understanding, I suggest we don’t waste another minute.’
Where was the charmer she remembered from Illya? The man who had made every woman’s IQ plummet by just being in his presence?
She’d spent five years thinking about this man, four years living with a miniature version of him, and his presence in her life had been so great she’d been incapable of meeting anyone else. Once Toby had been born the secret dream she’d held of Theo—Theseus—calling her out of the blue with apologies that he’d lost his phone had died. As had the fantasy that she would tell him of their son and he would want to be involved in their lives.
Motherhood had brought out a pragmatism she hadn’t known existed inside her. Until precisely one day ago she hadn’t given up on her dream of finding him, but that wish had been purely for Toby’s sake. All she’d wanted for herself was to find the courage to move on. She’d accepted she’d been nothing but a one-night stand for him and had found peace with that idea. Or so she’d thought.
Because somehow that was the worst part of it. Her body still reacted to him in exactly the way it had on Illya, with a sick, almost helpless longing. If he looked closely enough he’d be able to see her heart beating beneath the smart black top she wore.
His indifference towards her cut like a scalpel slicing through flesh.
He couldn’t give a damn about her.
A swell of nausea rose in her and she knew she had to say something.
She couldn’t spend the next ten days with such an enormous elephant in the room, even if she was the only one who could see it.
Heart hammering, she plunged in. ‘Before I start work there’s something we need to talk about.’
He contemplated her with narrowed eyes that showed nothing but indifference.
‘I’m sorry,’ she continued, swallowing back the fear, ‘but if you want me focused I need to know why you let me and everyone else on Illya believe you were an engineer from Athens, travelling the world on the fruits of an inheritance, when you were really a prince from Agon.’
‘It hardly matters—it was five years ago,’ he said sardonically.
‘You lied to me and every person you met on Illya.’
You lied to him too, her conscience reminded her, and she felt her cheeks flame as she recalled how her one lie had been the most grievous of all, a remembrance that knocked back a little of her fury and allowed her to gain a touch of perspective.
Her lie had been the catalyst for everything.
He contemplated her a little longer before leaning back against the wall and folding his arms across his chest.
‘Let me tell you about life here on Agon,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Outsiders struggle to understand but Agonites revere my family and have done so for over eight hundred years, ever since my ancestor Ares Patakis led a successful rebellion against the Venetian invaders.’
‘Patakis?’ she repeated. ‘Is that where you got your assumed surname from?’
He nodded. ‘My family have held the throne since then by overwhelming popular consent. With my family at the helm we’ve repelled any other nation foolish enough to think it can invade us. To prevent any despotic behaviour down the years my ancestors introduced a senate, for the people to have a voice, but still they look to us—their royal family—for leadership.’
Theseus’s mind filtered to his father; the man who would have been king if a tragic car crash hadn’t killed him prematurely along with his wife, Theseus’s mother. Lelantos Kalliakis had been exactly the kind of man his ancestors had feared taking the throne and having absolute power. Yet, regardless of how debauched and narcissistic the man had been, the Agonites had mourned him as if a member of their own family had been killed. His sons, however, had only truly mourned their mother.
‘We live in a goldfish bowl. The people here look up to my family. They revere us. Children on this island learn to read with picture books depicting tales of my ancestors. I wanted to meet real people and explore the world as a normal person would. I was curious as to how people would react to me—the man, not the Prince. So, yes, I lied to you about my true identity, just as I lied to everyone else. And if I had my time again I would tell the same lies, because they gave me a freedom I hadn’t experienced before and will never experience again.’
The majority of this speech was one he had spouted numerous times, first to his grandfather, when he’d announced his intention to see
