At the end of the path, they found a small dell, so tiny they’d have passed it by day, but by night it was a scene from a magical kingdom.
“Oh.” Her gaze drank in the vision: moonbeams and shadows over a thick circle of trees crowding around the clearing as if they were listening to a delicious secret. Glistening moss covered the rocks strewn about like fairy seats in the small dell, floodlit in silver. A hint of winter had come; a delicate cobweb of lacy ice lay on the leaves drooping from the lower branches, half-fallen like tiny stalactites. One gossamer stalactite had fallen, landing in the crevice of a rock, lying sprawled in the little abyss like Tinkerbell waiting in silence for Peter.
The smell of loam and crushed pine-needles filled her spirit, lifting it high.
“Oh, Toby,” she breathed, holding tight to his hand, filled with wonder and a sense of oneness, of completion she hadn’t known since their last bushwalk in the Blue Mountains nearly five months before.
Slowly, he drew her into the curve of his arm. Lost in the sweet awe, she wrapped her arm around his waist and they held each other, as they always did when they found a marvel on one of their walks. “No one else will ever have this moment or share this perfection. Tomorrow it will be gone, except in our memories. This moment is ours alone.”
She smiled up at him. “I love the way you talk to me. It’s so beautiful.”
He dropped a kiss on her nose. “I learned it from those historical books you love. Remember I read them to you when you were sick? You said you wished a man would speak to you as those heroes did. So I practised until it came naturally to me.”
Startled, she realised he’d spoken the truth. He’d never talked this way until she’d left the clinic.
Terrified to believe, wanting to doubt him because it kept her safe—kept him safe—she asked bluntly, “You’ve never talked to any of your girlfriends like this?”
His face stilled. “I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was nineteen, Giulia. Not since the day you fainted and I knew it was you or no one for me.” He laid a finger on her mouth when she started to speak. “I dated a few women, yes. Stupid, selfish and completely a man thing, but if you’d once shown me you wanted me in the past ten years none of those women would be holding a place in your mind. They certainly haven’t in mine.”
She wheeled away. “You made love to them. You’d stay out until dawn, and then come home and act as if you’d been home all night.”
One heartbeat, two; he drew in an audible breath. “With your high principles, I can’t expect you to understand, but I only passed time with them. I made it clear to them I was only playing around. I never made love to them the way I wanted to make love with you. The way I still want to with you. Only you.”
She closed her eyes, fighting temptation. “Do you know how it felt for me, lying there all night waiting for you to come home, my head filled with visions of what you were doing with them?”
He tried to pull her to him, but she stood so stiff in his arms, he let go. “There hasn’t been a woman in three years, Giulia. It was too empty,” he said huskily behind her ear. “One night I knew I’d rather be cooking and cleaning with you than touching any of them. Why do you think I never dated anyone seriously? It was you, always you. With just one word from you, I’d have been yours for life.”
“How was I supposed to believe that when girls as pretty and fun as they were couldn’t hold you?” She shuddered, reliving the memory. “No man ever wanted me, and you were with beautiful girls who threw themselves at you all the time. How could I believe you wanted me when you were intimate with them?”
He went so still, she felt his heart beating behind her. “Oh, dear God, I did that to you? I made you feel ugly and unwanted?”
Her head fell. She couldn’t say it, couldn’t bring herself to hurt him.
He snatched her into his arms, kissing her face, her lips, even when she didn’t respond. “Oh, my darling, beautiful girl, my love, my Giulia, what the hell have I done to you?”
Unable to bear the exquisite, bittersweet touch, she turned her face again. “It’s not your fault. You tried your best to make me believe I was beautiful.”
“But I never showed you I wanted you. So, when you knew I was with other women, it negated everything I told you, made everything empty—turned my words into nonsense, as you called it.”
She couldn’t bear to look at him. She looked at her fairyland, and wondered why it looked so dark now, so lost. “Yes.”
“It’s why you don’t believe me now when I say how much I want you.”
Her nails were digging into her palms with the physical effort to not hold him, comfort him and tell him it was all right, because it never would be again. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, beloved, so stupidly and wretchedly sorry.” Toby buried his face in her hair. “I devoted my life to making you feel beautiful and loved, and destroyed it without even knowing. If I’d told you how I felt, if I’d never looked at another woman, you’d be my wife now.”
“Probably.” She sighed. “Maybe it wouldn’t have worked for us anyway.” Unable to stand being so close, she gently broke away from him. “We should go back. Thank you for coming with me tonight.”
Neither of them spoke as they left their little Neverland behind, turning their faces back to reality.
The numbness left Lia within minutes as her heart became swamped by the sad irony that he’d always been hers, but could and would never be hers. With all her heart, she wished Dr Evans had never spoken to Toby—but he had, and ten years of silence on both their parts had led to nothing.
How many signs had she missed through the years? He’d learned to dance for her; how many brothers did that? Did Charlie?
He’d read her novels, and adopted the formal speech of the heroes she adored.
He’d learned to cook, but he’d rarely done it alone, unless she was exhausted. He might come home first, but he’d get out the ingredients and wait for her so they could do it together.
A universal truth she’d heard in a movie came back to haunt her: men and women can’t be friends. All these years she’d wanted him, he’d wanted her too.
I never made love to them the way I wanted to make love with you. Only you.
Believing in a fairy-tale ending for them risked not only his life, but the lives of innocent people—her people—and still she couldn’t stop herself dreaming.
“You’re thinking about it too,” he murmured as she led him back to the cave, the doorway to the passages. “Every time you think of how it could be for us, your breath hitches.”
She slipped in past the vines and half-sheltering rock to the cave. “Don’t,” she murmured, even her voice shaking with need. “I—I need my friend now.”
“You’ll always have me,” he said quietly. “Whatever you want from me is yours for ever. Whether we become lovers, whether you marry me or not, I am always your friend. You never need to question that. I’ll always come to you when you need me. For the rest of my life I’ll be what you need…friend or lover.”
Lover. Ah, that magnificent word, but it was magnificent only when he said it. It was unbearably filled with wonder when it came from the one man she wanted in her life and bed; it offered her the one thing here she did want, because he was here.
Nobody would ever know…
“Toby.” The name was pure craving. “Toby…”
She’d never know if he’d brought her to face him or she’d gone willingly; all she knew was she was in his arms and his mouth was on hers, deep and hot, clinging and tender.
She moaned and wrapped her arms hard around his neck so their bodies twined together as if they were one person. When his tongue touched hers and they joined, she didn’t know if he groaned or she did; she didn’t know if the pain they’d just been through hurt or heightened it. All she knew was this right, splendid, perfect passion.
It was going to happen. Neither of them could stop it; neither wanted to. And her heart sang at the knowledge: Toby w
ill be my lover. It made everything—no, it was everything. And at last she knew the bliss she’d read about in her beloved novels; she understood why her grandfather had given up his position for the woman he—
She gasped, her head falling back as his lips trailed over the sensitive skin of her throat, slow, hot kisses over her collarbone, the tender valley between her breasts. “Ah, Toby!” she cried, moving against his aroused body with a joy so complete she didn’t know where she ended and he began. “Touch me, please touch me.”
A sound ripped from her throat when his thumb brushed her hardened nipples. She grabbed his hand, filled it with her swollen breast. “Ah,” she moaned, writhing as he moved her pullover aside to nibble her shoulder, his hand caressing her breast.
“Breathe, Giulia,” he growled softly, a smile in his voice. “You haven’t taken in air properly in over a minute.”
She gasped in a breath and smiled at him, brilliant with happiness. “Thank you.”
He smiled back, his eyes tender. “Just remember to breathe when we make love, my beloved girl.”
“We’re going to make love,” she whispered, caught in a bliss so poignant she wanted to cry. This kiss, his touch, felt like all her dreams and wishes come to life, all in one hour.
“Yes, we are.” She felt the smile on his lips as he kissed her. “Just as soon as you can tell me one thing.”
She stilled. This wasn’t part of her dreams. A sense of dread filled her. She knew what he’d say, given what she’d told him tonight. “What?”
He looked down at her, the expression a strange mix of soul-deep passion and unmovable resolution. “We’ll make love when you can tell me you truly believe that you, Giulia Maria Helena Costa Marandis, are the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and that I desire you more than any woman I’ve ever known.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“COME here, boy.”
Toby stifled the urge to laugh. Even King Angelis had never spoken to him with such condescending force—then he realised the King was calling Puck. Despite the servants who walked the dog and fed him daily, despite Giulia’s daily visits, Puck had given his whole heart to the old man who held both their futures in his hands.
Puck slid to a stop from his headlong rush to jump on Toby, turned and rushed back to the King, sitting at his feet. King Angelis smiled and patted the dog’s head.
Toby grinned. He’d been an advocate of Pets as Therapy since he’d seen too many old folk burning down their homes when they became vague. A dog to bark its warning was a life-saving measure—but as far as this protected old monarch was concerned, Puck was perfect. There had never been a dog that needed ordering around more, and with King Angelis coming to terms with losing power, having any creature need his guidance was good for the soul.
“Come in and close the door. We have things to discuss, and I don’t care for outsiders listening in.” When Toby closed the door he barked, “Sit, boy. You’re built like a tree. I don’t want a crick in my neck every time I see you.”
The King wasn’t used to looking up to anyone. Keeping a straight face, Toby sat. This wasn’t the time to antagonise the old monarch, not when he’d finally made up his mind to break a fourteen-year-old trust…
Papou and Yiayia would understand. They always knew how I loved Giulia.
The King, oblivious to Toby’s inner turmoil, got straight to the point. “Princess Giulia’s maid informed security that she wasn’t in her room this morning. She’s using the secret passages to come to you.”
Toby went cold inside. Damn. Giulia had come to him in the night, after a horrendous day. After she’d rejected Orakis’s latest attempt to woo her, one of her refuges had mysteriously been blown up; four women had been killed. She’d come to him before dawn, white and shaking: Hold me, Toby; just hold me.
“She had a bad day,” Toby conceded quietly. “She needed comfort.”
“She needs to become stronger if she’s going to live here. She’s not a child, and she can’t go running to you when you’re gone.”
“As unpalatable as it is to you, sire, I’m not going anywhere as long as Giulia needs me,” Toby said bluntly. “She’s crushed beneath the workload of royal life and living in the public eye. She’ll end up back in hospital if you push her any further.”
“If you’re referring to her childhood bout of anorexia, it’s no such thing now. It’s natural for her to be a bit run down with her workload and new life.”
“That’s a common misconception.” Toby handed the King a card from his wallet. “I suggest you have an aide call her specialist. Anorexia nervosa doesn’t end. Vomiting and not eating are stress reactions very few anorexics overcome. She’s lost five kilos since she came here, and at her height that’s in the danger zone.” He held the old man’s eye, setting the scene for his secret. “Dr Evans will tell you I’m the one she needs most at these times. I won’t be the one to break her faith. Will you?”
The King’s jaw jutted. “You tap dance around this well, boy. But the truth is you can’t stay away from her.”
He didn’t bat an eyelash. “I’ve made no secret of my feelings for her.” He waited for the rest. The old man obviously had some steam to let off, some venom to loose; there would be no harm, no foul, if the frustrated monarch threw it his way. He still wasn’t going anywhere.
“You think you’re Romeo and Juliet, like her grandparents did? Yes, I realise you know the story,” he said calmly when Toby’s brows lifted. “It was I that wanted the first Giulia, and she chose Kyri.” He bent to pet Puck for a moment. “I was hurt over the loss, but Hellenia was almost destroyed. The family factions following Kyri’s defection gave the Orakis dynasty an opportunity to foment trouble. Decades of violence followed, thousands perished. The Marandis dynasty almost disappeared.”
Toby stilled. Whatever he’d expected the King to say, it hadn’t been this. “Charlie told me about the threat of war,” he said quietly.
The King nodded. “I know it’s hard on you. I’ve been there. But if I hadn’t stayed, if I hadn’t married a suitable woman and had sons, what would be left of Hellenia?”
The King’s selfless duty filled Toby with compassion. “If it helps, I think they were deeply distressed by the fallout from their choice. They always watched the international news, and when anything about this region showed suffering they’d head to their room and talk for hours.”
The King sighed and shrugged. “They could have come home. It was his father that disowned him, not me. I would have welcomed them back.”
The story unfolding before him was the other side of the truth, the reality behind what he’d always seen as the most romantic story he knew. “I understand how hard it must be for you to hear this, but the man I knew was endlessly unselfish and kind. I’ll always be grateful for the wonderful grandfather I knew. And Yiayia was the core of the family,” he said, voice gentle. “Giulia is her grandmother’s child—a Friday’s child, loving and giving.”
“Yes.” A smile hovered on the corners of the King’s lined mouth. “Our Giulia is just like her, shy and wise, dedicated to the people she loves. And she’s needed here.”
“She’s also her grandmother’s child in that she loves a quiet life,” he replied, knowing he was fighting a losing battle; or maybe he’d already lost it.
“You’re looking at the woman you love without seeing her.” The old face held a touch of pity. “I think you’ve been looking after her so long that when you came here and saw what she’s accomplished, how strong she is now, it shocked you.”
Taken aback by the King’s insight, he nodded. “And when I came here and you saw what’s between us you saw a resemblance to the past.”
For the first time, uncertainty shimmered in the rheumy eyes; the words and tone lacked his customary acerbity. “If she leaves, she’ll hate herself for turning her back on her brother and her people to marry a man unquestionably beneath her.”
The truth in that shook Toby, but he refused to show it. “You cou
ldn’t control Papou and Yiayia fifty-five years ago. You can’t control Giulia’s heart and decision by decree, by force, or by inventing death threats against me.” The King’s face turned ashen, confirmation of what he’d suspected. “You might force her to stay here with your fabricated death threats against me, but her heart is already turning from you.”
“So be it, then. I will do what I must for Hellenia.” The shrewd eyes held his. “It’s obvious you think you have some ace up your sleeve, boy. Just say it.”
He’d never have a better opening than this, and he told the King the secret he’d been holding for half his life.
Five minutes later he left the room as quietly as he’d come, feeling as blank, as devastated, as he had the day Dr Evans had told him he couldn’t give Giulia his heart.
Nothing would change the facts. He was never going to be good enough for the woman who owned his very soul. He could never marry her. Never.
The next night
“This is fun.”
Dressed in the simplest jeans she had in her overcrowded wardrobe and a thick, woolly pullover in her favourite shade of wine-red, her hair tumbling around her face, her skin bathed in moonlight, Giulia was exquisite. Toby caught his breath every time he looked at her. She was smiling as they lay sprawled on a makeshift picnic blanket, his bed blanket.
He’d come knocking on her secret door, as he did every night, and now they lay beneath the cool night sky in their secret dell where a fickle breeze tossed the clouds and stars around and a crackling fire gave the illusion of warmth and intimacy.
He’d set it all up hours before, bringing the blanket and sack of picnic food he’d bought at the village of Arpagos today. He’d also brought a flask of her favourite hot chocolate, a couple of hurricane lamps, and had set stones and wood in a circle for a rough fireplace. She’d gasped in delight when she’d seen it, and her thank-you hug had led to a kiss so hot it had almost made them forget the picnic.
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