about our boat?’ She was clearly amused by his automatic response.
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Snippy? What does that mean?’
She stepped a little closer. She’d changed into a pale blue dress and flat sandals. He could see the tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose and feel her scent invade his senses. It didn’t matter that the smell of the Mediterranean Sea was all around them. The only thing he could concentrate on right now was the smell of some kind of flowers, winding its way around him.
‘It means you don’t like anyone calling your yacht a boat.’ She waved her hand. ‘Boat, ship, yacht—it’s all the same to me.’
He laughed and shook his head. ‘What’s that word you use in the UK? Landlubber?’
She nodded as he guided her up on to the deck. ‘I’ll wear that badge with pride. I know absolutely nothing about sailing. The only boats I’ve ever sailed were the ones in my bath tub.’
There it was—that little twinkle in her eye. It happened whenever they joked together, whenever Ruby was relaxed and there was no one else around but them. He didn’t see it often enough.
She settled into one of the white chairs as the yacht moved smoothly out from the port. The sea could be choppy around Euronia, but today it was calm.
His steward appeared. ‘What would you like for lunch, Ms. Wetherspoon? The chef will make whatever you desire.’
He saw her visibly blanch. There were so many things he took for granted. At any time in the palace he could ask for whatever he wanted to eat. There was always staff available to cater to his tastes. Ruby looked almost embarrassed by the question.
‘I guess since I’m on the sea it should be some kind of fish.’ She shot the steward a beaming smile. ‘What would you suggest?’
If the steward was surprised by her question he didn’t show it. ‘We have crayfish, mussels, clams and oysters. Or, if you prefer we have sardines—or bouillabaisse. It’s a fish stew, practically our national dish.’
‘That sounds lovely. I’ll have that, thank you.’
The yacht was working its way along the coastline. Within a few minutes the pink palace came into view.
Ruby stood up. ‘Wow! It looks so different, seeing it from the sea. It really does look like something from a little girl’s toybox. It’s gorgeous.’
Alex rolled his eyes. ‘You can imagine how I felt as a teenager, living in a pink palace.’
She smiled. Her eyes were still sparkling. ‘I can imagine. But look at it. It’s impressive enough when you see it on land—but from here...? It’s like something from a fairytale.’
‘What’s your favourite room?’
‘In the palace?’
He nodded.
The steward had brought some champagne and an ice bucket and Alex popped the cork and started pouring the champagne into glasses.
She took a sip from the glass he handed her. ‘It has to be the library. It’s the smell. I love it. I could sit in there all day.’
‘That was my mother’s favourite room too. She was always in the library.’
Ruby turned to face him. ‘You don’t really talk about your mother. What was she like? I’ve seen some photographs. She was beautiful.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, she was. Most people talk about the clothes she wore and her sense of style. Marguerite de Castellane was known the world over for her beautiful wardrobe. But I remember my mother as having a really wicked sense of humour. And she was clever. She spoke four languages and brought me up speaking both English and French. She died from a clot in her lung—a pulmonary embolism. She’d had the flu and been off her feet for a few weeks. Her legs were swollen and sore—but she didn’t tell anyone until it was too late.’
He couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness as he spoke about his mother. To everyone else she had been the Queen. But to an only child with an almost absent father his mother had been his whole world.
She’d kept him grounded. She’d made sure he attended the local school and the local nursery. She’d sent him shopping for bread at the bakers and meat at the delicatessen. Everything he’d learned about being a ‘normal’ person he’d learned from his mother.
His father had aged twenty years after she’d died. Still working, still ruling his country, but his heart hadn’t been in it.
The relationship between father and son had always been strained. And it hadn’t improved with age or with his father’s ill health.
Ruby had little lines across her forehead now. Even when she frowned she still looked good. He felt a surge of emotion towards her.
He didn’t talk to anyone about his mother. In years gone by he had spoken to Sophia, but that had been like talking to a friend. Ruby hadn’t known his mother. She would only have whatever had been posted on the internet to refer to.
It felt good to share. She made it so easy to talk.
With her legs stretched out in front of her, sipping champagne from the glass, she looked right at home. But he knew she wasn’t.
She might be comfortable around him, but she wasn’t comfortable around the palace. The formalities of palace life were difficult for her.
She didn’t ask or expect anyone to do things for her. Rufus had already mentioned how she’d ruffled some feathers by trying to do her own laundry or make her own toast.
‘What about your family?’
She smiled. ‘My mum and dad are both just about to retire. They’ve already told me they plan to move to the South of France. They bought a house there last month. They’ve holidayed there for the last ten years and have really got into the way of life.’
‘Have they ever been to Euronia?’
She rolled her eyes and took another sip of champagne, holding the glass up towards him. ‘Only billionaires come to Euronia, Alex.’
He was instantly defensive. ‘That’s not true. There are cruise ships moored every day in port, and we have bus tours that come across the border from France—’
‘Alex.’
She leaned over and touched his arm. The palm of her hand was cool from holding the champagne glass.
‘I was teasing.’
The smile reached right up into her eyes and he wrapped his hand over hers.
‘Sometimes I’m just not sure.’ He stayed exactly where he was. His eyes fixed on hers.
She wasn’t shy. She didn’t tear her gaze away. Her lips were turned upwards, but as he looked at her more closely her smile seemed a little sad.
‘What do you think would have happened between us, Ruby?’
He
