Giulia smiled for Max, laughed with him and talked to him in a way she’d only talked with him, Toby, before.
How had she changed so much? She’d become a princess in more ways than the obvious. And now, only five minutes after the most beautiful kiss of his life, he had the sinking feeling there was no going back.
The woman he’d loved for ten years had always been like a flower touched by frost: coming to warm, vibrant life only for him. Now she was blossoming on her own, and that scared the living daylights out of him. If she didn’t need him, who was he? What life did he have without her in it?
But then he saw her serene expression change. She paled and, beneath the silver silk dress that made her look like a dark-haired, golden-skinned angel, her toes started the tap-tap thing. He could see the slight up-down motion of her hem. One of her few secretive signs of stress. He got to his feet.
A hand fell on his shoulder as he took the first step. “Grizz, we need to talk.”
Toby forced a smile as he turned to his turbulent best friend. “You have your hands full with your bride, Rip. You don’t need to bother with me tonight.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have if you’d toed the line.” Charlie didn’t have the thundercloud look Toby had expected: another sign of his friend’s rapid growth from volatile fireman to king-in-waiting. “Jazmine’s gone to talk to Lia.”
A sense of doom fell on him, hard and fast. “Is the entire royal family in array against me?” he asked lightly.
Charlie swore. “Look, this is hard enough to say. This is my wedding night, and you’re my brother. If you’d come to me five, six months ago and said you wanted to marry Lia I’d have been the happiest bloke in Ryde.”
Seeing Charlie floundering, Toby supplied the rest of it for him. “But now you aren’t the happiest Crown Prince in the palace.”
Charlie said bluntly, “Lia can’t renounce her position without the permission of the reigning king and the entire House of Hereditary Lords—and with only four of us to rebuild the dynasty there’s no way they’ll let her go.”
Toby went cold. “Does Giulia know that?”
“I didn’t know until Jazmine told me a few days ago.” Charlie sighed. “The law is designed to tie royalty to the nation for life. That’s why Papou had to disappear the way he did, and could never come back.” Charlie’s mouth tightened. “I trust you with her life, Grizz, you know that. But you can’t take her home.”
He stared his old friend down. “Then I’ll stay with her.” The thought of a life without Giulia in it was unbearable. She and Charlie were his family, had been ever since his parents had divorced with a bitterness that had torn the Winders apart. His parents had demanded full loyalty, that he live with one parent or the other. Unable to stand it, he’d opted out and chosen the Costas—and neither of them had forgiven him for the betrayal.
“You can’t.” Charlie’s voice grew stressed. “The people won’t accept you. This is a male-dominated society, and whoever marries Lia becomes a prince by default.”
A cold shiver ran through him. He loved Giulia, he always would. But he was a fireman. He loved his life at home. To have the woman he loved, he’d have to become a prince, facing the media and the task of rebuilding Hellenia on a daily, hourly basis. It was a vision as ridiculous as it was impossible.
He’d come to Hellenia ready to save her, convinced she’d collapse under the stress of royal life; but all he’d seen in the past eight weeks had been her strength, her wisdom, courage and dignity. Since coming to Hellenia, she’d flourished.
So what was he doing? Trying to ruin her new life filled with challenges she revelled in, weaken her strength to re-find his place with her?
Charlie ran a hand through his hair. “When you planted the first kiss on her, I brought up the notion of her marriage at the next session of the House of Hereditary Lords. They almost started a revolution.” He shrugged. “Changing the law to allow a queen to co-rule with me is the most change they’ll allow this decade. They’re old-fashioned and class-conscious. In their minds, if Max or Orakis don’t get Lia, one of their sons does. Change happens at the speed of a tortoise.”
Voice and body tight with fury, Toby said, “‘Get’ Giulia, Rip? Listen to yourself. For the past fifteen years you’ve been ready to tear apart any man who approached her. Now you’ll hand her over to the highest bidder?”
“Don’t misquote me.” Charlie’s voice turned icy. “I said in their minds. Don’t ever think that, just because you saved her life, you love my sister more than I do.”
Facing his oldest friend off with equal coldness, Toby snapped, “How would you feel if I spoke about any other man ‘getting’ Jazmine?”
Charlie’s fists clenched, then released, and he sighed again. “Look, mate, I’m doing the best I can in a hell of a situation. This will be my first decision as King, and the people—and Orakis—will be watching to see what I do. And I’m damned if I’ll start a war for your sake, brother or not.”
Toby stood in grim silence, waiting for the axe to fall on his life’s dream.
“If I changed the law for you and Lia to marry, all the people will see is that under the new rulership nepotism rules. That’s what brought down the Orakis dynasty. Papou’s disappearance brought on ten years of civil war last century.”
There fell the axe. But it wasn’t his head that fell bleeding to the ground; it was his heart. Charlie was in a hellhole, and he and Giulia had just deepened it.
Charlie was right. If Toby had been given a choice between eight-million people’s lives and the personal happiness of the two people he loved best in the world, he knew the inevitable choice.
He lifted a hand, his gaze on Giulia like an unspoken farewell. “I’ve put you in a hell of a position and I’m sorry, Rip. It’s time I returned to my life back home.”
“No, mate. Please. I don’t want you to go, and Lia needs you.”
He gave a short, bitter laugh. “From everything you’ve said, I think all she needs is for me to disappear from her life.”
“She wasn’t eating enough until you came. Surely you’ve seen she’s thinner?”
The words stopped him cold.
Lia had just heard the same words from her new sister-in-law.
Civil war…
The downfall of the Orakis dynasty…
You can’t renounce your position without the permission of the King and House of Hereditary Lords…
Now she knew why Papou had had to disappear completely.
To think of Charlie, her beloved brother, and Jazmine, Max, Theo Angelis, all having to flee from their home.
What hurt most was that, had she kissed Max in front of the wedding guests, in front of the cameras in the middle of the cathedral during the wedding, she wouldn’t have been lectured on history and the risks she was taking, or even acting like a princess. All she’d have had in response would have been everyone’s amused approval.
But kissing her best friend apparently would all but start a war.
She took a step back, and then another. “Enough, Jazmine, I understand.” Shut down, turn off. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help it. If she didn’t disappear emotionally for a while, she’d break.
Jazmine bit her lip. “Lia, you know we—”
She held up a hand for Jazmine to stop. She dragged in a breath, two, trying to control herself. She’d made enough public displays for one night.
But as she turned to the doors, she saw Theo Angelis coming over to her in his wheelchair, his face a mixture of steely determination and loving concern, and knew it must be said. “If you send Toby away, I’ll disappear, as Papou did,” she said fiercely.
The King wheeled to a stop. Even the royal minder behind him gaped.
The King’s eyes snapped with anger. “Don’t make empty threats at me, girl.”
“Do it and you’ll discover just how much my grandfather’s child I am.” The continued silence assured her she’d made her point. She turned to leave.
“So
meone saw him kissing you that first day,” the King said, stopping her in her tracks in turn. “One of Orakis’s spies, or it could have been one of the Lords’ paid eyes and ears. Someone’s unhappy. There’s been a threat against his life.”
Lia froze. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. A shard of ice pierced her soul.
“Given our history, it’s no empty threat.” The King spoke with compassion, yet was inflexible. “The people demand certain standards from us. You are a princess. You must behave as one.”
One shiver after another raced through her entire body. Oh, God; God help her.
Tick, tick, tick…
The clock moved backward and she was fifteen again, facing the truth: she could never have the boy she loved with all her heart and soul. But now, loving him could kill him.
And her ancient enemy came back to taunt her, as her stomach clenched and she felt bile rising.
“I’ll be back to see you off,” she whispered to Jazmine, and left the ballroom with slow, deliberate grace, like the princess she must be.
Toby watched her leave, saw the uneven step, and felt sick himself. He knew where Giulia was going…
He had to go to her—but he was being watched. He couldn’t follow her, unless he went round by another way, or unless he made the perfect excuse.
As the best man, he had that.
He gathered the eleven groomsmen—the only one he knew at all was Max, the others were noblemen and politicians from around Europe, chosen for political purposes, as Jazmine’s bridesmaids had been—and he told them a few certain Australian wedding customs without which Charlie wouldn’t feel properly married, and where the “accessories” could be found.
The men all laughed and agreed to help. Even Max smiled with enthusiasm, as if they were friends, yet he must have seen Giulia kissing Toby on the balcony…
The eleven noblemen and politicians left in groups of three and four at each door, causing a logistical nightmare for their respective minders. Toby watched his security detail going bananas trying to discreetly follow them. Any moment now, all of the groomsmen would have their arms filled with tin cans, ribbons and spray-paint cans with which to decorate the honeymoon helicopter, freaking out every Secret Service agent with the potential for explosive materials.
And so, for the ten seconds his security detail was distracted by the earpieces going berserk, he slipped out to the balcony, hopped it, dropped the twelve feet to the ground—peanuts for him, even in a tux—and came back in via the front.
He’d have about ninety seconds to find her before they found him.
When he found her door locked, he ran to the end of the corridor, hopped to the first balcony and leapt from one balcony to the next until he reached hers. He knew it would be locked, but Giulia could never stand a stuffy room, even in winter. And the weather was still unseasonably warm for autumn.
Hanging by his hands from the corner of the railing, he kicked his legs into the bedroom window, gripped tight, and swung upside down for a moment before doing a sit-up. Hands gripped the sash; he was in.
Outside her private bathroom, he heard the sounds he’d dreaded returning for more than a decade. Muffled, painful retching…
The bathroom door was locked, too. So he kicked it in, grabbed it by the handle in case it went off its hinges and fell on her, and pushed it against the wall before he strode to her. She hung over the toilet bowl, retching up nothing.
Oh, God, no; God, no, please…
“Toby,” she croaked, and vomited again.
He gathered her into his arms and sat back down with her on his lap. “Still more?” he asked simply, knowing this was not the time to berate her or ask questions she couldn’t handle.
She started to nod, then leaned into the bowl again.
He wanted to hit someone about now, to scream, “See? She needs me, you morons!” but time was of the essence. They had to be back at the wedding party within half an hour or the situation would escalate, more pressure would be put on her, and the cycle would be worsened. If his short acquaintance with the King was any indication, he’d kick Toby out and order in an army of specialists: people who knew their job, but didn’t know Giulia. And she’d just get sicker.
He couldn’t tell anyone. This had to remain between them alone.
Charlie would know the moment he saw his sister’s face, but he couldn’t help that. He’d go on his honeymoon worried sick and share his fears with Jazmine. The two of them would call twice or three times a day to make sure she was eating. All of which would make Giulia feel worse, by showing their worry, love and fear of losing her, their beautiful, special Giulia, so wise about everyone except herself.
It was time for damage minimisation, not damage control.
When the spasm passed, he held her and stroked her hair, which was falling from its perfect chignon. “I’m here, beloved. I’m here.”
Her head fell to his shoulder. “For how long?” she whispered.
If he knew her, she knew him too, he thought wryly. “Do you honestly believe I’d ever leave you like this?” Or at all, his mind added, accepting a truth he’d barely been able to face when he’d made that vow to the doctor years before: Will you still give her everything she needs when she’s sleeping with another man?
Even then?
Could you give her what she needs when she’s having another man’s baby, sharing his bed?
Looking at her now, there was only one answer.
Yes…even then.
“It’s not the anorexia.” She could never speak above a whisper when she went into shutdown. She was so ashamed of her weakness, her imperfection.
He kissed her forehead, her cheek. “Tell me.”
“You know. I know Charlie told you.”
He nodded. No wonder she was throwing up. “It’s not going to happen.” He’d spend his life in prison for killing Orakis before he’d let him within touching distance of her.
“There’s only one way to stop it.”
Max. He felt like throwing up too. But he pulled himself together. Not for the sake of eight-million people—he wasn’t that noble; not even for the best friend he’d ever had—but for the sake of the woman in his arms. The woman he’d loved with hope for half his life, and would love without hope for the rest of it. And right now a double prison sentence seemed a preferable option to night after night alone thinking of what she’d endure with Orakis—or, God help him, enjoy with Max.
The quiver that ran through her wasn’t like when they’d been dancing, in the sweet lead-up to exquisite, unforgettable kisses. “I wish they’d never found us. I’m glad Charlie’s happy,” she rasped, “But why should he get happiness and I get Jazmine’s choice?”
Trying to make her smile, he said softly, “Including the rough fireman from Sydney as option three?”
“The only way we could marry now is if we disappear, change our names and our lives—and that’s impossible. I’d have to leave Charlie and Jazmine to face all the problems on their own.” She sighed. “You wouldn’t cope with it if you couldn’t keep being a fireman. You’d hate me for it sooner or later. And it’s not in me to run away from my responsibilities, Toby, even for you.”
No, it wasn’t. She’d hate herself for life if she left Charlie to face this mess alone. The only destruction she’d ever wreaked was on herself, never others.
“And that’s not all.” She leaned over the toilet and dryretched again once, twice, until she fell back against him, heaving deep breaths. “Someone knows you kissed me, proposed to me the other week. They’ve threatened your life.”
Strange that, though the shock ran through him like a streak of lightning, he wasn’t surprised. In a place like Hellenia, where emotions ran as high as expectation, he’d known a commoner courting a princess would have massive repercussions.
But Giulia was throwing up for the first time in ten years, and to him that was a far greater threat than anything a reactionary Hellenican could throw at him. “Let’s not think ab
out that now. Let’s just concentrate on getting you well again.”
Giulia lifted her head and stared at him. “Get me well? I’m not sick. I told you, this isn’t anorexia, it’s shock. Toby, someone’s threatening your life. You need to go home right after Charlie and Jazmine’s coronation.”
And though he knew it wasn’t an idle or empty threat, he’d faced death on a near-daily basis for years, in factory fires, house- and bushfires out of control. He’d been to twenty funerals of guys with young families, comforted grieving widows of his mates. Giulia didn’t know, couldn’t understand that, to a fireman death was an intimate enemy, a hated friend. It happened too often for it to hold terror for him the way it did for her. “I’m not going anywhere while you need me. Don’t let it bother you so much, Giulia. I know how to look after myself.”
“From a fire, yes—but how do you protect yourself from a bullet or a bomb?” Her mouth tightened. “Don’t patronise me, Toby. I don’t need you to protect me.” She pushed at his chest and got to her feet. “We’ll need a carpenter to fix the door.”
He was sitting at her feet. Feeling like a supplicant was something he hated. He’d been that when he’d gone to the Costas at fifteen and had asked if he could live with them. He never wanted to be lower than anyone ever again. He rose to his feet and stood behind her, watching her. “What do you need from me?” he demanded, to remind her of the kiss half an hour ago. To see how she’d respond.
She turned to the massive, marble double sink, opened the mirrored doors above and got out her toothbrush. As she applied toothpaste, she said, “What I need is what I thought we’d been having the past few years—I want us to be friends who care for each other, not for me to be the one you constantly watch in case I get sick again. And I need you to go home.”
“Friends? Then what was the kiss about?” he snarled, ignoring her demand that he go home.
She brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth. Then she pulled out her make-up from behind the mirrored doors and began making repairs to her face. “I don’t really know. Maybe the last blast from a fifteen-year-old girl who wanted nothing more than to kiss the boy she was so crazy about. Maybe the girl needed that before the woman could move on.”
His Princess in the Making Page 7
