MAID FOR A PRINCE: (Book 1) (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way) (12 page)

When the writing stopped, Helene was wrenched out of that world. She couldn’t believe it. That was the last page?

Feeling numb, she handed it over to Tahlia, who sliced through the words fast and then gaped at Helene.

“This can’t be the end.” Tahlia looked around. “From what I know about that time in our history…”

When Tahlia bit her lip, Helene pushed her one.

“Tahlia, what do you know?” 

“There was a Princess Acadia, but she died. Or it’s presumed that she did. No one found her remains, but there was so much destruction that night.”

Helene pondered the possibilities. Acadia sounded so brave and resilient. And Leandros was there, guiding and protecting her. He would have made sure they survived.

“If I wrote the end of this story, I’d make sure they escaped,” Helene said.

“They might have been ambushed.”

“Hey, I thought you liked happy endings.”

“More than anything, I want to believe in them. That they shared a long life together.”

Helene came back to the here and now. To the “Tahlia in love with Otis” present. Her heart went out to her new friend.

“I like happy endings, too,” Helene said softly.

Tahlia’s gaze drifted toward that window again. “I love my life here. If only Darius didn’t expect me to be a carbon copy of what he thinks I should be. I have my own mind. My own heart. If he doesn’t like Otis, that won’t change how I feel.”

“Darius does like Otis.” He’d told her so. “He thinks he’s a hardworking, respectful boy.”

“Boy?” Tahlia huffed. “Darius would call him that. Otis is twenty-one. A man. A good man.” The irritation in her eyes faded into longing. “He loves me and I love him.”

Helene wanted to gather Tahlia close and hug her like her own mother had done with her whenever she’d felt sad. But she wasn’t Tahlia’s parent. Darius was her legal guardian, or he had been until her eighteenth birthday.

“Your brother’s only trying to do the best for you,” she said gently. “He wants you to finish your education.”

“Darius is a good brother. But I don’t need his permission for anything anymore.” She got to her feet. “He can’t do anything if I live my life the way I want.”

Tahlia’s words were passionate, but her tone was composed. She’d given this a lot of thought. And she was an adult. Helene understood Darius wanting his sister to attend college, but he couldn’t force her.

Tahlia lowered herself back onto the sofa. “What do you want to do with your life, Helene?”

“I want to be a history teacher.”

“When I was very young, I wanted to be a ballerina and dance on pointe. At twelve, I was going to be a journalist, the kind who reports on only the most important stories. I remember telling Darius. He was so disgusted, he stomped away. He has no time for the media. Neither did my father. Lately, though, I think more and more about being with Otis. About…” She bowed her head and gazed at her left hand. “About being a wife.” 

Helene took Tahlia’s hand. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“Because you’re in love?”

Helene blinked before her cheeks flushed with heat. “I’ve only known your brother a week.”

“Otis and I have known each other for years. But love can bite at first sight.”

Helene didn’t know how to respond. She’d been struck by Darius when they’d first met, certainly. Who wouldn’t be? But that wasn’t love.

“And he’s smart,” Tahlia was saying. “Out of the three of us, Darius is the true scholar. Sometimes I even try to tell myself that he does know best. That I should go back to my studies.” Her eyes pleaded with Helene’s. “But everything aches when two people long to be together. I’m tired of sneaking out to see Otis simply because Darius doesn’t approve. I can’t imagine how it makes Otis feel. He never says a word against my brother, but I know he wishes Darius wasn’t so old-fashioned.”

Helene sent a comforting look. “He wants to protect you.”

“He makes me want to run away and never come back.”

“I get that. I felt that way.” About her mother.

Tahlia’s let out that pent up breath. “You did?”

“But, believe me. Your brother is only caring for you the best way he knows how.”

Tahlia seemed to consider her advice before her focus shifted to the pages again. “I need to know what happened to those two.”

“I suppose we’ll never know. Unless…” Helene leaned closer. “Do you think the rest of the story could be hidden somewhere else in the villa?”

“No.” Tahlia arched a brow. “I think it might be somewhere else entirely.”

Tahlia thought the rest of Leandros and Acadia’s story could be hidden somewhere in the palace. The author might have been the nurse who had stayed behind with the slain king. Maybe the help’s quarters were a likely place to look.

She and Tahlia vowed to meet again to dig around and, happy ending or not, see if more pages could be found.

But this afternoon Helene needed to visit Alexio.

To save on pollution and noise, motorized vehicles weren’t permitted on either island. She could have jumped on a bicycle, or asked for a carriage. Instead she thanked the guard who opened a side gate and headed out from the palace grounds on foot.

A group of women appeared around a graveled corner— wives and mothers Helene had met before. One offered an orange from her basket. Inhaling the citrus scent, Helene thanked her and, nattering, the women carried on their way.

After winding through cobblestone streets lined with planters filled by lavender and clouds of orange geraniums, she reached Alexio’s taverna. Inside she found her friend wearing his trademark apron while he hand-dried glasses by the bar. When he noticed her, Alexio’s broad face broke into a smile. He took a step and then, as if someone had whispered a warning in his ear, he hesitated.

“Helene.” He re-pinned his smile, set down the glass and wiped his palms down his apron.

“You got my text? My messages?” She hoped he hadn’t been worried about her.

He nodded. “I was going to call you today.”

“Yanni Kostas from the palace… He told you what happened?”

“Yes, yes. The prince went to the island early and offered you a job. And now you’re staying at the palace.”

“Just for a couple of weeks.”

Had Alexio assumed she’d been asked to stay as help or as a guest? Probably best not to go there.

“I’m leaving Tierenias after that. I know that’s probably left you short on staff…”

“I put on someone last week, a backpacker like you from the States.”

Helene blinked before finding a supportive response. “That’s great.”

He moved back behind the counter and came back wheeling Helene’s luggage. “Gia packed your things. It’s all in there, as well as payment for the work you did for me on the island.”

But Helene was stuck on being replaced already. She’d had so many good times with Alexio and guests here in this room.

One day, this would all seem like a dream.

“Maybe you could come see the grandbaby sometime,” Alexio was saying.

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll let Gia know.” He tossed a look toward the kitchen. “I have to start lunch.
Herete
,” he said, giving her a hug.
Be happy.

Dazed, Helene moved out onto the street. Behind the ironwork the enclosed the courtyard, a woman was wiping taverna tables―her replacement. It was same woman who’d taken pictures of the prince yesterday when they’d arrived in port.

The woman looked up. Their eyes met. At the same time, Helene heard her name called. At the sound of that deep confident voice, her stomach jumped and she glanced across. Darius stood just a few steps away.

He flipped his sunglasses back on his head. “I thought I’d join you.” Shielding his eyes, he studied the taverna’s frontage while Helene noticed Alexio’s newly hired help taking even more of an interest.

“I thought you had work to do,” she said.

“I gave myself the rest of the day off. I’ve eaten here,” he went on. “Friendly. Good food.” He glanced at his watch. “Perhaps we could enjoy a coffee. It’s too early for lunch.” He noticed the orange she still held.

“It’s a gift,” she explained. Giving her replacement a final glance, Helene told Darius. “I’d rather walk for a while.”

He nodded, and then, looking over a shoulder, raised a hand. Two well-dressed men appeared out of nowhere.

“Take this to the palace,” he said, taking her luggage handle and the orange. “I won’t need either of you again today.”

As both men turned on their heels, Darius dropped the sunglasses back on his nose and looped a strong arm through hers.

“Do you always have a detail when you leave the palace?” she asked, an eye on the men as they strode away.

“Mostly.”

“Must be intrusive.”

“I’m used to it.” He tugged her closer and nuzzled her hair. “Although I am have withdrawals. I miss our alone time on that island.”

She almost sighed remembering. Maybe they could go back for a couple of days. Then she remembered. “We have that night in Paris coming up.”

“Actually, I heard from my friend,” he said. “Paris is off. So is the wedding. Seems they weren’t as well suited as he’d thought.”

They continued to stroll, passing people who, more often than not, stopped to get a better look at their prince. But Helene was still thinking about Paris. Darius’s friend and now ex-fiancée hadn’t known each other long. Had they simply fallen out of love? Maybe some past indiscretion had caught up. She wondered again…had an unplanned pregnancy prompted plans for a hasty wedding? Had that woman had a miscarriage?

Helene shuddered and she pressed a protective palm against her belly.

Darius’s hand covered hers. “Are you feeling all right?”

Helene sucked in a breath. With his warm hand covering hers, it was easy to shake off the bad feeling. “I’m fine.” She lifted her face to the sky. “Enjoying the sunshine.”

They walked to a cove where a boy was learning to toss a net into the sea. After they stopped and sat on a bench shaded by trees, Darius pushed his glasses back over his head and studied the fisherman instructing his boy.

“Tahlia dropped by my office,” he said. “She enjoyed our dinner together. She wants to know if we could do it again—with Otis making up a foursome.”

Tahlia knew she could leave here whenever she wanted. She didn’t need her brother’s consent. Helene was glad she was still trying to reach out to Darius rather than simply blowing him off.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“I said now wasn’t the time. I have…other things on my mind.”

Like the coronation? Like whether he should agree to let his uncle come? Like wondering if he was on the way to becoming a daddy?

Next week, she should know for sure―yes or no―and that would be that.

As his arm wound around her back, urging her closer, she laid a cheek on his shoulder.

“You aren’t feeling well,” he said, pulling out his cell phone. “I’ll organize a carriage.”

“
No
.” She forced a smile. “I’m fine.” She didn’t want to go back to the palace just yet. It was nice to be out and about with Darius at her side. “Let’s go back to the taverna.”

He didn’t look surprised. “Maybe you want your job back? Maybe you don’t want to go home.”

She wanted for him to say something more, like
I
don’t want you to go home.

But he only got to his feet, watching the boy and the fisherman as they walked away.

When they entered the tavern, Alexio instantly recognized Darius. His eyes widened. A big smile followed.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness.” Alexio bowed.

With an approving eye, Darius examined the taverna’s old wooden beams and flagstone floor. “A table by a window, please,” he said.

Alexio ushered them to the best spot in the place, a cosy table for two by a trickling indoor fountain.

“I’ll bring menus,” Alexio said.

“Just bring the specialties of the house.” Darius took his seat as he glanced out the opened window onto the busy street. “And wine.”

Alexio nodded. “Our very best.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were enjoying grilled baby octopus marinated in garlic, basil, and lemon. Darius was pouring their second glass of wine when a middle-aged man and a woman strolled in. When the man threw up his hands in greeting, Alexio crossed over and hugged them both. They talked a little before Alexio flicked a glance Darius’s way. The couple’s mouths fell open.

As more people arrived to fill the room, it was clear the majority also recognized Darius.

“Can’t you feel it?” Helene finally asked him.

“Feel what?”

“Everyone’s eyes on you?”

He cast a glance around. “They’re just curious.”

“They’re dying to come over and say hi. Those secret service agents must make it hard to just stop and talk to people in the streets.”

Forking some eggplant, he chuckled. “They’re not secret service agents.”

“Might as well be.”

“I have a good relationship with the people here. Very good.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

She eyed that middle-aged couple who had sat at a nearby table. “Then let’s invite that pair over to join us for dessert.”

He reached over and held her hand. “I played hooky to spend time with
you
.”

Her heart melted. But she had to ask. “Did your father or uncle ever take time out to hang around with the ordinary folk?”

“There are festivals, special events…”

“So the answer’s no?”

He set down his fork. “Helene, what are you getting at?”

“I wondered whether that tinderbox would have caught light twenty-five years ago if your uncle and father had put themselves out there more. Mingled and listened. You don’t have the population of Russia. I think Mr. and Mrs. Average would love getting to know you in a less, well, official capacity. And
you’d
get lots from it, too.”

Darius didn’t respond, but as he continued to enjoy the meal, every now and then he’d glance around. When Alexio returned with a dessert menu, Darius had a word with him.

“These patrons,” Darius asked, “they’re a mix of locals and tourists?”

“Most are locals, Your Highness.”

Darius gestured at the couple chatting to the new waitress, Helene’s replacement. “That couple?”

Alexio provided names. “I’ve known them all my life.”

Darius’s eyes narrowed on the pair. Finally, he sat back. “Invite them to enjoy coffee with us,” he said, then drained the remainder of his wine.

Alexio’s eyes bugged out. “I apologize. I thought you said…”

“Ask them over.” Darius sent a smile to the couple that had glanced over again. “And put their meals on my tab.”

Alexio spoke with the couple. They gaped before pulling themselves together and meekly moving over.

Darius spoke to them in his usual charismatic way about everyday things, like watching the boy casting his net and how he looked forward to a blockbuster due for release. Getting into the swing, he called another couple over and more chairs were arranged. By the end of that hour, quite a gathering had assembled, all talking and sharing and laughing, including Darius.

As their guests began to leave, Helene caught Alexio’s eye. Wiping down a table, he paused before his familiar smile spread. 

When she and Darius were alone again, walking hand in hand back up that hill, she asked, “So, about dinner tonight?”

He sent a vaguely suspicious look. “What about it?”

“Maybe you could let Tahlia know to invite Otis.”

A pulse beat in his jaw as, gaze fixed upon the path ahead, he thought it over.

“No,” he said finally and Helene’s heart sank. But he wasn’t finished. “Not tonight, but…soon.” His stern gaze hooked onto hers. “And I’d appreciate you not letting Tahlia know I’m considering it. Can you do that?”

Helene threw her arms around him. Right now, she felt she could do anything.

They didn’t dine with Tahlia that evening or for the rest of the week. Instead, she and Darius enjoyed late evening meals in her quarters on the balcony, talking and looking over twinkling city lights and a far-reaching sea before retiring to her bed.

She wondered why he hadn’t invited her back to his quarters. He hadn’t mentioned the figurine since their last conversation, either. Perhaps the goddess was still in his room while he considered making her release from captivity somehow more permanent.

During the day, she spent time with Tahlia, talking and searching for more pages of their story. Or with Darius, strolling through the palace grounds. Or meeting new friends at the taverna, including Alexio’s gorgeous new grandbaby.

At night, she had no trouble falling asleep in Darius’s arms. But more often than not she would wake in the early hours and her brain would start ticking over. With his hard, strong body pressed against hers, she wished this time together would never end. Then she’d think about their first night together, whether or not she was pregnant.

Whether she was having Darius’s baby.

Toward the end of her second week at the palace, Darius and his dog Ajax took Helene on a walk up a hill that was half cliff. She normally loved hiking, but as the ground grew steeper and steeper, her legs began to ache. And the path was so narrow...the churning sea below too close.

“I used to play up here all the time when I was a boy,” Darius said, trekking a little ahead of her.