Praise for Fiona McArthur:

‘McArthur does full justice to an intensely emotional scene of the delivery of a stillborn baby,

one that marks a turning point in both the characters’

outlooks. The entire story is liberally spiced with drama, heartfelt emotion and just a touch of humour.’

—RT Book Reviews on SURVIVAL GUIDE TO DATING YOUR BOSS

His thumb stroked the pulse on the underside of her wrist. ‘Dine with me. Tonight.’

‘No.’ She tugged in slow motion, as if already unsure whether she wanted release or not.

‘Tomorrow?’ He stared into deepening violet and between them the fire flickered and stirred, and the wraith encircled them both.

‘I’m working.’ Almost a whisper.

He stroked her wrist again. ‘Then it must be tonight.’

Huskily. Another brush of her tongue over her lips. ‘What part of no don’t you understand?’

But for Kiki it was too late. Too, too late. He’d touched her.

His hand held her wrist, his skin was on hers, and the two receptors were communicating, entwining like their own matrix of reality. The warmth crept up her body, wrapped around her in tendrils of mist, and in slow motion he drew her forward as subconsciously she swayed like a reed towards him.

His other hand came up and tenderly he brushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘You have grown even more beautiful.’

With worship his fingers slid across her cheek and along her jaw as his mouth came down, and she could do nothing but turn her face into his palm and then upwards. To wait.

As he had with their first kiss he took her breath, inhaled her soul as she did his, and the world—the sometimes comical, sometimes cruel world—disappeared.

Dear Reader

I’ve always wanted to write about a dashing prince, a fairytale royal wedding and a heroine who deserves to live happily ever after.

Monaco made a big impression on me when I was lucky enough to visit last year, and I was always going to have elements of the romanticism and glamour of that fabulous tiny principality in my story. Then there is the mythology of Greece …

Which brings us to the island of Aspelicus.

Prince Stefano Mykonides has never met anyone like Dr Kiki Fender … An unexpectedly torrid love affair in far-off Australia was not kind to them when they first met … but, goodness me, do sparks fly the second time around!

So we have a cruise ship, a fabulous Mediterranean setting, medical adventure on the high seas—and then the world seems to crash for our newspaper-shy prince and his unwilling Dr Kiki.

I really do hope you enjoy visiting my fairytale countries and their romance-challenged royalty as much as I loved writing their story.

Warmest wishes

Fiona xx

Find me at www.fionamcarthur.com

About the Author

A mother to five sons, FIONA McARTHUR is an Australian midwife who loves to write. Medical Romance™ gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! Now that her boys are older, Fiona and her husband, Ian, are off to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures. Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthur.com

The Prince
Who Charmed Her
Fiona McArthur

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedicated to my prince, Ian. xxx

Also by Fiona McArthur:

A DOCTOR, A FLING AND WEDDING RING SYDNEY HARBOUR HOSPITAL:

MARCO’S TEMPTATION** FALLING FOR THE SHEIKH SHE SHOULDN’T SURVIVAL GUIDE TO DATING YOUR BOSS HARRY ST CLAIR: ROGUE OR DOCTOR? MIDWIFE, MOTHER … ITALIAN’S WIFE* MIDWIFE IN THE FAMILY WAY* MIDWIFE IN A MILLION

*Lyrebird Lake Maternity **Sydney Harbour Hospital

These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

DR KIKI FENDER gazed across the blue of the Mediterranean to distant houses that clung like pastel limpets onto the cliffs of Italy and breathed in the beauty of the day.

It wasn’t something she’d done when she’d first boarded the ship, but it was easier now as she listened to the delight of the newly embarked passengers.

These first few hours sailing along the Italian coast was her favourite time. But duty called so she brushed the hair out of her eyes and turned towards the hospital below. Four months of shipboard life had brought the purpose back into her life and she was so grateful for that.

Her smile slipped when she remembered it was only five days until the date she’d so looked forward to would be behind her, and then it would get even easier.

One deck down, Prince Stefano Adolphi Phillipe Augustus Mykonides tried not to think of the worst-case scenario as he rolled the unconscious wife of his brother into the recovery position. With immense relief he noted the blue of her lips improve slightly as her airway cleared.

He’d hoped Theros could stay out of trouble this week, on his wife’s birthday holiday, but it seemed it wasn’t so. With a sigh, the eldest son of Prince Paulo of Aspelicus, a tiny but wealthy principality in the Mediterranean Sea, knew it was his fault his brother had done something else stupid.

When he looked up at Theros his brother was as helpless as ever, his handsome face twisted in distress. ‘Get the ship’s hospital on the phone. Tell them it’s an emergency,’ Stefano said.

Theros’s mouth worked silently, like a child’s, and he looked shocked and incredulous as his wife began to turn blue again.

Stefano lowered his voice to a stern order. ‘Now! Tell them it’s a reaction to latex. To bring adrenalin.’ He said the words slowly and enunciated clearly.

Theros blinked and stumbled to his feet as Stefano began to strip Marla of her skintight rubber playsuit, cursing under his breath as her breathing became even more laboured, but thankful that at least Theros had had the good sense to call him in time.

His concern lay in removing the offending clothing as fast as possible—before his sister-in-law stopped breathing. Not an easy job—which he gathered should have been half the fun. What he would have given for a scalpel …

Ten doors away Dr Kiki Fender jogged down the hallway to the largest suites, running over in her head what she knew about latex allergies. In truth Kiki was the on-call doctor for crew—not passengers—and she hoped her boss would follow quickly in case the patient was in extremis.

She’d hate to lose a patient on departure day, and royalty at that—very poor form. Terrible luck that Will had been on a cabin visit when the call had come in, so she was it till he came. She didn’t even bother to try and imagine where this latex exposure had come from.

She’d tossed the usual personal protection gloves out from the emergency pack and donned latex-free ones, reminding herself they should use them in the whole medical centre in this current climate of escalating allergies, and had packed extra adrenalin ampoules. She carried in her hand the Epi-pen which made administration much quicker in such emergencies.

She prayed the patient’s airways wouldn’t have closed completely by the time her boss arrived with the rest of the equipment.

When the door opened she barely glanced at the distressed man in black shiny underwear and glanced ahead to the woman on the floor. Another man was bent over her as he struggled to extricate her legs from skintight latex leggings.

There was something oddly familiar about the shape of his head, but the woman was already unconscious and her skin was blotched with a paling red rash.

Kiki spoke to the dark hair of the man kneeling on the carpet as she bent down beside him. ‘Is she breathing?’

‘Just.’

Kiki glanced at the man’s face and recognition slapped into her like one of the ocean white caps outside the window.

What the hell was Stefano Mykonides doing on her ship? Lock that away, quick-smart, she chastised herself, and quickly pinched the woman’s leg to inject the adrenalin. Her eyes skimmed the almost naked woman for tiny rapid rises of her chest, aware that the movements would tell if the medication was helping. Most times with this type of shock recovery was dramatic, because the drug turned off the body’s flooding allergic response like a tap.

But a tiny section of her brain was still suggesting that the Stefano she’d known was the last person who needed a threesome with a dolly bird in latex to fill his day.

She heard her boss and the nurse arrive with the emergency stretcher as Stefano leaned towards her.

‘Of course I expect you to remain discreet about this event.’

She could see the pulse beating in his strong neck and a part of her responded involuntarily—and that increased her dislike. She met his eyes and tried with only some success to keep the contempt from her face. So typical. The woman was fighting for her life but it was all about how important the good name of the Mykonides family was.

She could say a few things about his good name. Instead she nodded at her patient. ‘Of course, Your Highness.’

Stefano turned back to extricating Marla’s foot. He was in shock—much like poor Marla without the benefit of the drug’s reversal. Kiki Fender was here and to see her like this … As a saviour to his family, dynamic, confident of her skills as he’d known she would be. But it was not these things he remembered the most. Nor the woman who looked at him with distaste and called him Your Highness.

Before he could think what to say Marla groaned and stirred, and his sigh of relief escaped silently as Kiki leant over and spoke near her ear.

‘You’re okay. Take it easy.’ She looked at him and silently mouthed, name?

‘Marla,’ he said quietly, just as thankfully the last of the trouser leg came free over her foot with an elastic snapping noise. He slid the rubber suit under the seat of the lounge chair out of sight as more medical staff approached.

Kiki saw him do it and rolled her eyes at his priorities as she turned back to her patient. ‘I’m going to put another needle—a cannula —in your arm and tape it there, Marla, as a precaution, but I think you’re improving every second.’

The cannula slid in easily. Always a relief.

‘Like I said, this is only a precaution,’ she said to the dazed woman, ‘in case you need further medication or intravenous fluids.’ But within herself, Kiki thought the response appeared adequate from the initial dose—often the way—and it seemed the crisis was over.

She felt the trolley being manoeuvred in beside her and Stefano stood up.

He said, ‘Please take my towelling robe,’ and handed it to Kiki to cover the patient with.

Her nod of appreciation wasn’t only for the gown for Marla, but because with him gone there seemed so much more air around the patient—and herself—more distance. Funny, that, and funny that she wasn’t in the mood for laughing.

She had always had a respiratory awareness of him—like her own damned anaphylaxis—but she’d thought herself desensitised against that response after what she’d been through. Later, on her own, she would worry about that.

‘Hi, Will.’ Kiki glanced at the senior ship’s doctor as he knelt down beside her. ‘This is Marla. Severe reaction to latex. We’ve removed the causative agent.’ She flicked an ironic glance at Stefano before she turned back to her boss.

Dr Wilhelm Hobson leaned over and took the woman’s wrist to feel her pulse. ‘You’ve given adrenalin?’

‘Two minutes ago.’ Kiki finished taping the intravenous cannula in place.

Marla groaned and opened her eyes more positively. ‘Where am I?’

‘It’s okay, Marla. You’re in your cabin. Just close your eyes and rest. You’ll feel better soon.’ She rested her hand over Marla’s in sympathy. She and Wilhelm looked at the welts on her arms that seemed to be fading before their eyes. ‘Good response, as you see.’

Will nodded, then wrote the pulse-rate, dose and time down on his scribe sheet while Kiki took the blood pressure cuff from the nurse and wrapped it around Marla’s arm. As expected, the pressure was very low.

‘In shock.’ The nurse nodded as she adhered cardiac dots to the patient’s skin and the sound of a racing heartbeat permeated the room. They began to assemble an intravenous line to increase the pressure in Marla’s blood vessels with an extra fluid bolus.

Confident now that their patient was stable, Will stood up and faced the two men in the room. This’ll be good, Kiki thought, and though she didn’t look away from her patient her ears were tuned for their explanation.

‘And who is responsible for this woman?’ Wilhelm’s tone was deadly serious. But then he was serious most of the time.

Stefano had watched Marla wake up with relief and now he refocused on the room. Kiki, down on the floor with Marla, ignored him—as she should. He glanced at the man in charge—a stocky blond-headed man with a South African accent and air of command. A ship this size would need a competent senior. One who knew how to be discreet.

Then he looked to Theros. His brother stood, twisting his hands across his body, suddenly aware that he looked strange in those ridiculous shorts. His mouth worked but, as usual in times of stress, nothing came out.

Stefano sighed and stepped forward. Of course he was responsible. He had been since the moment of Theros’s accident all those years ago. It did not occur to him to feel vulnerable, dressed only in swim-trunks, and he glanced coolly at the medic. ‘I am.’

Kiki flinched when she heard Stefano’s voice and realised she’d hoped otherwise. It shouldn’t have mattered. Didn’t matter. She’d always expected him to be more than he really was. A prince who lied and made promises he didn’t keep.

She didn’t wait to hear the rest. ‘Okay, Ginger,’ she said to the nurse. ‘Let’s help Marla up onto the trolley and we’ll take her down to the hospital for observation.’

Fifteen minutes later Stefano paced in front of the window in his brother’s suite. ‘Please get rid of those ridiculous shorts,’ he said. Stefano moved very slowly, with rigid control, frustrated at his brother’s propensity for disaster and his own for not preventing it—and at the fruitless urge to ask why he had to deal with this. He knew why.

At seven Stefano had pulled Theros from a deep ocean pool on their island and saved his life with a boy’s rough and ready resuscitation. Unfortunately Theros had been left with an injury to part of his brain from its time without oxygen. After that Stefano’s young brother had not been the most sensible of boys, and later had become a handsome and lovable but childish man.

But that had not stopped Theros from diving into mischief and danger whenever he could, and as often as he was able Stefano would be the one to rescue him.

‘Trouble. It will find you in the dark. Or in this case broad daylight. Is sex so tedious with your wife that you must risk her life with latex?’

Theros wrung his hands. ‘No. No. One of her friends gave the suits to us for her birthday … We were playing. Laughing. Suddenly she could not breathe. I did not know Marla was allergic to rubber.’

‘Latex.’ Stefano squeezed the skin under his nose with his fingers in a pincer grip to stop himself from losing patience. He never lost patience with Theros. His father had been right to say that if only he, Stefano, had been faster at getting help perhaps his brother’s brain would not have been damaged.

It was a legacy of guilt he could not shake. The job of protecting the family and Theros from ridicule had fallen to Stefano, and he had protected his brother well for many years—because he’d been willing to take up the mantle and carry it regardless of the impact on his own life.

His foray into medicine—the vocation that should have been Theros’s—had stemmed from that guilt, from his father’s distress and disappointment, and from his own lack of ability to prevent such a sequela for his brother. Even at such a young age he had vowed if such a situation ever arose again he would know what to do. Unexpectedly, medicine had also provided a true vocation, and something that soothed his soul.

His father, Crown Prince Paulo III of Aspelicus, had hired a sensible woman to supervise Theros while Stefano had been away at a medical symposium in Australia earlier that year, and to everyone’s surprise his simple little brother had found true love.

At his father’s urgent request Stefano had rushed home from the arms of Dr Kiki Fender—but too late.

Theros had already eloped. Then Stefano himself had been involved in a serious motor vehicle accident, and during his slow recovery months had passed.

To his unexpected relief Theros’s sensible wife had proved helpful in steering Theros on a more stable path, but even the most sensible could make an unfortunate mistake. So any notion of Stefano being released from his duty of care was a misconception. Theros would always need him, and he could offer no life to a vibrant and intelligent woman like Kiki, who was not accustomed to the strictures of royal duty.

In the harsh light of reality he knew that as heir to the throne he should let go of what had passed between he and Dr Fender in Australia. That was for the best.

But it seemed she had not forgiven him for his failure to return.

Theros coughed and Stefano returned to the present. His brother still waited for reassurance.

He took his fingers from his face and stared at Theros so he could be sure he was listening. Perhaps even absorbing the gravity of the situation.

‘Marla could have died. Almost did.’ He paused, let that settle in. ‘One of you must carry an injection, similar to that which the doctor had, in case she is exposed to this product again accidentally.’ He stared hard. ‘You are her husband and it is your duty to keep her safe. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Stefano.’ Theros chewed his lip. ‘The doctor said she would be all right, though? They’ll let her out of the hospital this afternoon?’

Not surprisingly, Theros had an irrational fear of hospitals—which hadn’t been helped when Stefano had nearly died.

Stefano saw that fear, and his irritation with his brother seeped further away. His voice gentled. ‘For the moment the danger is gone. Yes.’

Theros climbed into his swim-trunks and sadly handed Stefano his latex briefs. ‘And she will be fine tomorrow, won’t she? We’re going to Naples to climb Vesuvius. You’re coming with us.’

‘My leg is a little painful.’ Why must his brother love adventures that required exposure to the public? It would be so much easier on the island of Aspelicus, their island home off mainland Greece, and he had so many things that required his attention there. But his father had asked him to watch over them on this short cruise that Theros had promised his wife.

Ashore, his man could be with them. And while they were touring it would be a good time for him, Stefano, to reacquaint himself with Dr Fender.

After finding Kiki where he least expected her, he had pressing matters to attend to. First an apology for his non-return. Past ghosts to lay.

The problem was that the woman he’d left behind in Australia had stayed like a halo around his heart. He, of all people, knew it wasn’t sensible to desire a woman who did not understand or deserve the ways of royal commitment. As heir, in his country’s crises he was the one who was called.

But still he smarted from the thinly veiled contempt in her sea-blue eyes, because he remembered the warmly passionate, fun-loving side of sweet Kiki.

The gods must be laughing at this insult to his pride. If they had been destined to meet again this was not how he would have orchestrated the moment.

Less than an hour ago—still achingly beautiful, yet transformed—she’d hated him.

She’d always been confident, sassy, and so different from the women he was usually introduced to. Of course he’d been recklessly drawn to the young doctor during his Sydney study tour to promote groundbreaking surgery at his small hospital. What a week that had been.

He would admit he had not behaved thoughtfully during their intense time together. Neither of them had. Everything had progressed far too quickly. They’d immersed themselves in each other for a torrid affair of incredible closeness, tucked away from the world in her tiny flat when they weren’t at the hospital.

Until another crisis created by the man in front of him had required his immediate presence on Aspelicus and he had left her bed and flown out that same night.

He had spent the last few months recovering from his own accident—months of rehabilitation after he’d almost lost his leg. He’d barely been able to look at himself in the mirror, let alone consider showing himself to a woman.

But that excuse had gone now and his treatment of Kiki Fender had recently made him feel ashamed. It was another burden of guilt he found he could not move on from, because it had taken him almost five months before he was able to rule his own life again. A loss of control he never wanted to experience again.

By the time he had begun to search for her, at least to attempt an explanation, she’d been untraceable.

At first he had tried the hospital in Sydney, then her home phone, mail to her old lodgings. He did not know her friends or family. She had disappeared without a trace. Ironically to this very ship.

Tomorrow he would finish this and then fulfil his destiny for his country. Seek her forgiveness, allow himself to let go, and move on to secure the succession.

But for the moment his man-boy brother needed reassurance. Theros was playing with the legs of the latex suit he’d found under the chair and Stefano reached out and took them from him gently. ‘Manos will drive you to Vesuvius.’

‘Oh, good. And Marla will come.’

Theros looked childishly happy and Stefano supposed it was good that someone was pleased.

Later that afternoon, in the ship’s medical centre ten floors below the royal suite, Dr Hobson was ready to discharge Marla.

‘You can go back to your suite.’ Kiki helped her sit up. ‘Your observations are fine, and will stay that way if you stay away from latex.’

Poor Marla blushed again. ‘No more birthday gifts that almost end it all!’

‘It was just bad luck.’ There was a lot of that around at the moment. Kiki grimaced with her. ‘Allergies can be to anything. It could have been peanuts.’

Marla smiled. ‘I’m supposed to be the sensible one. But thanks for that.’

‘Hey, it was your birthday.’ Kiki grinned back. ‘At least now you know latex sets up a reaction in your body and you can make sure that if you ever go into hospital the staff keep you latex-free.’

The young woman nodded and stared down at the little Epi-pen in her hand.

‘And be careful with that.’ Kiki smiled. ‘You can get into trouble if you inject it in the wrong place.’

Maria nodded.

‘True,’ Will said helpfully. ‘I saw a man once who injected it into his thumb trying to work the plunger. It’s a powerful drug and it shuts down the peripheral blood flow. His thumb fell off with gangrene.’

Kiki’s eyes widened as she helped Marla up. ‘Imagine what a disgruntled wife could do?’

The senior medic held out his hands in horror. ‘That’s true. Don’t go there.’

Kiki shook her head in amusement, because Wilhelm’s seriousness always cracked her up. ‘Is he scaring you, Marla?’

‘Only because of my husband.’ The girl laughed and shook her head. ‘I will not let Theros near it. I truly can be sensible.’

‘Not too sensible.’ Kiki smiled. ‘Still have a great birthday. It’s such a shame this has marred your holiday.’

Kiki couldn’t help but think that Marla wasn’t the only one whose voyage had been affected. And this week of all weeks, when her emotions were already on a rollercoaster. Bummer. Bummer. Bummer.

Usually fair-minded, Kiki guessed she owed Stefano an apology—but it wasn’t going to happen. She still didn’t get why he was on his brother’s holiday as his minder—on her ship—and was finding it hard to forget that somewhere above her head was the man she’d accepted she’d never see again.

She glanced at the ceiling above her head. Up there, larger than life and twice as disconcerting—because she might not have agreed to dress in latex for him, like Marla had for Theros, but she’d been just as weak, losing her common sense in the sensual haze they’d created together.

And as for her less than flattering thoughts of him earlier—well, he could jump off the owner’s suite balcony before she’d apologise.

Ginger’s offer to escort Marla to the suite was jumped on with enthusiasm. No way was Kiki going back up there. Because during the long weeks while she’d waited for his promised return, during the phone calls when she’d tried to contact him after she’d discovered she was pregnant, it had been too shameful.

There had been an unexpected lowness of her spirits when he hadn’t called, and she’d been so sick and weak, barely able to function in early pregnancy, that she hadn’t been able to motivate herself to do anything more about it.

By the time the first trimester had been over and she’d begun to feel more like herself again Kiki had accepted that Stefano wasn’t coming back. He had clearly decided his royal status meant she wasn’t good enough for him to follow up. Well, she and her baby didn’t need him. All her life she’d been independent—the youngest sister to three brilliant sisters who didn’t need her, with her doctor parents who were busy. The only person she’d felt connected to had been her big brother Nick. And briefly Stefano. But soon she’d have her baby and they would be a team. She couldn’t wait.

But at eighteen weeks, when she’d already begun to create a nursery of tiny clothes and softest wraps, the pains had come and suddenly her baby was gone. Soon her baby’s due date would pass and she would finally be able to move on. She’d promised herself.

The best thing she’d done was to come here to heal and move on to a new life.

Wilhelm wandered back into the main office. ‘Marla seems very sweet.’

‘She does.’ Kiki blinked and came back to the present.

‘Embarrassing for our royal guests, though.’

‘Mortifying.’ Kiki raised a smile. ‘I bet her brother-in-law hated that!’

Even in the brief time they’d been together Stefano’s avoidance of the whole topic of his royalty and his absolute hatred of the press had been obvious. At the time it had seemed sensible—she knew little of the life of a minor royal, which was the impression of himself he’d left her with. Not that she’d even thought about it much when they were together. As a man he’d been able to help her forget the world.

She dragged her mind back to Marla and Theros. ‘It’s Marla’s birthday. They’ve been married less than a year. And Theros wanted to holiday on a cruise ship instead of their island like most of the family do.’

Will shrugged. ‘So why is his brother here? Heir to the throne and all that. A bit high-powered for a minder, don’t you think.’

Kiki tried for a careless shrug. ‘Family name is very important to everyone, so I imagine in a royal family it would be more so.’ She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince—Will or herself. ‘Apparently Marla’s husband has bad luck with the press.’

‘Bad luck, eh?’ Will raised his brows as he waved Ginger off duty on her return and shut the clinic door.

Kiki picked up her bag, but he put his hand up to stop her.

‘One sec.’

She paused, looked back, and her stomach sank. She’d been afraid of this.

Will scratched his head. ‘So what’s going on between you two?’

‘Which two?’ She’d hoped nothing had been noticed. Nothing had been said. She hadn’t even looked at Stefano as they’d wheeled Marla out.

Will waited patiently and Kiki felt the blush heat her cheeks. The silence stretched and she didn’t like silence. That was her only excuse for being unable to extricate herself. ‘You mean me and Theros’s brother? Nothing.’ How the heck had Wilhelm sensed that? ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

She switched off a computer she’d thankfully missed at shut-down. An excuse to turn away.

But the flood of memories she’d been holding back all day rose like a wave in her throat. Such rotten timing. She concentrated on her feet, firmly planted on the deck. She was not going under. Control re-established, she turned back to Will, who tilted his head and went on.

‘Come on. I may be a bit oblivious sometimes, but the air was thick between you two and the guy was watching your neck like Dracula on a diet. Nick didn’t mention you knew any royalty?’

Because she’d told no one about her stupidity—not even her closest sibling, and definitely not any of her sisters. ‘Nick has nothing to do with this.’ Because her brother Nick would be out for Stefano’s blood if he knew what the Prince had done to his little sister. ‘Stefano is a surgical consultant I worked with him briefly in Sydney during my last rotation.’

‘You worked with a prince?’

Will looked even more interested, not less, and Kiki could feel the walls of the little clinic begin to close in on her. She didn’t want to think about that time with Stefano, let alone talk about it, but her South African colleague could miss the obvious sometimes.

He proved it. ‘So what happened?’

‘That’s all there is.’ To her horror her eyes filled with tears. Not because of Stefano, but at the thought of the sadness that had been building for this past week.

‘Hey. I’ve upset you.’ Will shook his head. ‘Sorry. I just want you to know I’m here to listen if you need an ear.’ He raised his hands in defence. ‘I promised Nick I’d look out for you.’

Don’t mention this to Nick. But if she said it out loud it would be the first thing he’d do. ‘I’m a big girl, Will. I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t need to talk about it.’

Even she could hear the over-reaction. She sighed. Too vehement.

She turned away to wipe at the tear that had slid out against her will. ‘Sorry—water under the bridge, that’s all.’

‘Well, if he gives you a hard time just let me know,’ Will said gruffly, and she nodded and fled.

CHAPTER TWO

WHEN KIKI FINALLY fell asleep that night her dreams were filled with the sensation of being lost and alone, and always in the distance was Stefano, turned the other way and choosing not to see her.

When she woke she had tears on her cheeks, and despite the sun streaming in she was so exhausted she wanted to roll over and bury her head. Her shift didn’t start until eleven but she wouldn’t get back to sleep.

Through the open window she could hear the mooring crew as they secured the ship to the wharf in Naples, and she lay on her bunk and felt the ship creak and strain against its ropes.

And that made her think of yesterday’s latex session gone wrong.

Unwillingly, she felt her lips curve—which wasn’t a bad thing considering the night—and she knew at some stage she would have to share the story—names changed to protect the innocent—with her closest sibling. Nick would certainly enjoy the sense of the ridiculous.

She still didn’t get why Stefano was on his brother’s holiday.

From the brief mention Stefano had made of Aspelicus, Kiki gathered the island, once home to an ancient Greek school of physicians, a splinter school similar to the one on the more southern island of Asclepius, was a beautiful cliff-edged principality, with a harbour originally on the trade routes as a safe haven.

She’d spent hours online and discovered it had grown more Italian and French since its Greek heritage, and that its royal family were far more famous than she’d realised.

She’d been a fool. Of course Stefano had not returned for a brief fling he’d once had in the Antipodes.

His family had developed a stronghold in spices and teas from China, and the tiny monarchy had become incredibly wealthy. Now it was thriving on the sale of gourmet olive oil from the trees that dotted the hills, its cash flow supplemented by high-roller casinos and its own world-famous horse race along the lines of neighbouring Monaco’s, which had its Grand Prix, and a borrowed idea from its neighbour to become a tax haven for residents.

On the other side of the island a sprawling low-rise hospital had gained international recognition for reconstructive surgery, with Stefano as its director.

The royal family could be traced back a thousand years, but somewhere each generation held a physician who had been available for the poorer people, as well as those who could pay.

It had all sounded incredibly romantic even from the few facts Stefano had shared with her.

She had waited for him to return.

But he hadn’t.

She could remember as if it were yesterday when she’d applied for the job on the Sea Goddess, her brother’s old ship.

Kiki had always idolised her gorgeous, crazy showman of a big brother—the only one of her high-achieving siblings who understood her.

She never had found out what had precipitated Nick’s escape from reality but for herself it was wanting something totally different from the empty nursery she’d created for a child that would never come.

She’d never shared her loss with anyone. She hadn’t been able to share with the absent Stefano, and she’d thought an ordinary cruise ship the last place she would find him and reopen wounds.

Unlike her older sisters, Nick had seen she wasn’t herself and cheered her on. So she’d started on the hospitality side of the ship, which had forced her to return to her usual outgoing self, the person she’d lost for a while, and she’d even started to forgive the male of the species, to laugh with Nick’s friend Miko and the waiters.

Until she’d begun to miss medicine.

When the opportunity had come she’d switched roles, and the last three months had been good under Wilhelm’s guidance in the ship’s hospital.

It had all been fine—until now.

Maybe it was time to find her real calling. Hiding from the world had proved fruitless. But why couldn’t this have happened next week, when she just knew she’d be stronger? She sighed.

Stefano was here and there was nothing she could do about that. It was time to move on. She’d go and see Will and ask how hard it would be for her to be replaced.

With that thought crystallising in her mind, Kiki rose from her bed and walked to the window with new purpose.

She’d put her notice in and leave as soon as they found someone to take her place.

There were still the next four nights to get through, but she’d manage that if she had a plan. She’d foolishly succumbed to ridiculous attraction last time he’d entered her orbit and that would not happen again.

Stefano woke with purpose. Today he would deal with what he should have dealt with months ago. Laying this admittedly delectable ghost was well overdue.

He’d discovered the opening times of the ship’s hospital and by the time Theros and Marla had left for their day-trip the clinic was almost due to close, which suited him perfectly.

He descended the stairs almost at a jog—foolish when his hip would kill him later, and he reminded himself it was not fitting to appear too eager.

The nurse greeted him with a smile. She was the same one he’d seen yesterday, and he inclined his head at the obvious approval he read in her face. She was a handsome woman, of the type he’d used to dally with a lifetime ago, but, like a stamp on the front page of his passport, no matter where he was, Kiki had dampened any desire on his part to consort with other women.

‘I wish to see Dr Fender. I am Stefano Mykonides.’

‘Of course, Your Highness, I know who you are.’ She smiled at him coyly, fiddled excitedly with her collar, and blushed.

Stefano smiled back blandly, curbed his impatience as the woman went on.

‘But Dr Fender isn’t on duty until later this morning.’

A door across the waiting room opened and the senior doctor ushered his patient out.

As the young boy and his mother walked past them the nurse said, ‘Perhaps Dr Hobson?’

‘No.’ Stefano inclined his head at the doctor, but before he could leave Hobson crossed the room and held out his hand. They shook hands briefly.

‘Ah, Your Highness. Good morning.’ He turned to the nurse. ‘Can you run those blood samples up to the courier, please?’

He turned back to Stefano. ‘I hope all is well with your sister-in-law this morning?’

Stefano tried not to show his irritation, but he was trapped. And where was his quarry if not here? ‘Yes. Thank you.’ He was over discussing Theros’s disasters.

Hobson glanced at his watch. ‘How can we help you?’

Stefano picked up nuances and wondered why this man felt Kiki needed protection. From him. ‘I had hoped to thank Dr Fender personally, for her timely assistance yesterday. I did not have the opportunity at the time, of course.’

‘Of course.’

Hobson smiled non-committally and Stefano felt like gritting his teeth.

‘I could convey your appreciation?’

Very pointed, Stefano thought, but he held his temper. ‘Thank you, but I wish to do so myself. I will return at another time.’

Hobson didn’t shift. ‘I’ll let her know.’

Stefano could see that the good doctor was in protection mode. He wondered just what kind of personal relationship he had with Kiki and had to admit he disliked the idea very strongly. His hand tightened on the room card in his pocket. The card bent. Disliked very strongly. He examined the doctor more closely. He was a well-muscled man, almost as tall as himself, and no doubt attractive to women.

He tested the water. ‘Or I could surprise her.’

Hobson’s smile appeared frozen on his face. ‘I think she has had enough surprises.’

Stefano had to give the man respect. Loyalty was a good thing, and despite his own misgivings he could not grudge Kiki her friend’s championship. Though his cousin, who owed Stefano many favours, did own this shipping line.

His fingers loosened. Relax. Let it go. He, too, cared that Kiki was not upset. ‘It is not my intention to distress her.’

Hobson met his gaze head-on. ‘Good.’

Enough. His day had soured and the pain in his hip from his reckless descent down the stairs was annoying him. ‘And good day to you, Dr Hobson.’

Stefano pressed the button for the lift with remarkable restraint, not stupid enough to brave an ascent of twelve floors despite his sudden frustrated desire for explosive energy. The lift doors opened and, as if conjured, Kiki stood waiting to alight.

‘Just the person.’ Wonderful how good humour could be instantly restored. ‘One moment, please, Dr Fender.’ He could not believe his good luck—finally—and gestured for her to wait. With a relief he was careful not to show he stepped in beside her as she hesitated.

Kiki couldn’t believe her bad luck. So close to being safe. ‘What if I was on my way to work?’

He shrugged those shoulders that still made her weak at the knees. Damn him. It was so hard to not to stare and just remember.

‘I have been told you are not working for a few hours.’

His voice always had made her mouth dry, and now was no exception. What was the scientific reason for that? She searched a little desperately for distraction as she watched him press the lift button for the sixteenth floor.

Of course he had looked for her in the hospital. If only she hadn’t run down for a quick chat with Will.

The doors began to close and for a moment she did consider diving out before the doors shut, like some female secret agent with a barrel roll in her repertoire—but she’d just look awkward, and probably get sandwiched by the doors.

Or, a hundred times worse, he’d put out his hand and touch her, and she wanted to avoid that at all costs. That was what had happened the first time. He’d laid his hand on her arm to help her from the car and she’d woken up in bed with him. And stayed there for a week.

That left the smart mouth as her only defence. ‘So where are we going?’ As if she didn’t know.

He didn’t reply, and she remembered that. The frustrating habits of a man used to answering questions he felt inclined to and ignoring the rest. A prince with his own agenda unless it was for his family. Lucky him.

She stared straight ahead at the doors of the lift as if they’d magically open and she could float out to safety somewhere in the stairwell. She could feel his eyes on her.

‘Why are you on this ship anyway, Your Highness?’

She heard him sigh. ‘Do you call me that to annoy me?’

Now she glanced at him. Sugared her voice. ‘Is it working?’

He looked at her from under his own raised brows, and then in the ultimate retaliation he smiled. Blinded, she felt it rip open the wound she’d healed so diligently over the last months aboard ship. Blast, blast and double blast. She needed to get away.

She’d fallen in lust with him the first time she’d seen him. Only lust. Love wouldn’t have ended as it had.

Stefano had smiled at her then, as if they shared a secret, when she’d been late for her last surgical day in the operating theatres because of car trouble. He’d been a guest consultant of her boss, and should have chastised her like all the other consultants would have done, but instead he’d shown her surgical techniques she’d never thought to witness.

Later, he’d bought her coffee, plied her with cake to replace her missed breakfast, and invited her to ride home with him at the end of the day. When his hand had touched hers she’d been stunned like a landed fish, all big glassy eyes and floppy with desire.

And she knew where that had led.

The flicker of the number lights speeding upwards brought her back to the present and her sense of impending danger grew exponentially. This wasn’t sensible. Or safe. Though she wasn’t sure who she was more afraid of. Him or herself.

‘I don’t want to go anywhere with you.’

She thought for a moment she’d actually hurt him. There was just a flicker behind his eyes … But that was a joke. Instead he sighed as if she were a troublesome child, or probably just a troublesome subject.

‘I will not keep you long.’

‘Well, I know that.’

This time he did flinch. She saw it. Good, he felt guilty—even though he didn’t know how guilty he should feel. But she was tired of scoring points or second-guessing his intentions. She just wanted to forget she’d seen him again and re-grow the scar tissue so she could complete her healing.

When the lift stopped she planted her feet more solidly on the spot. He waited for her to pass him and when she didn’t lifted his hand to direct her. She stepped out of his way and back against the wall so fast his hand fell.

‘No.’ She licked dry lips. ‘Goodbye, Prince Stefano. Have a good life.’

There. She’d said it. What she hadn’t had a chance to say nine months ago. Now it was done. Finished.

Except he didn’t get out, and the silence lengthened.

Without direction from them the lift doors shut and the chamber began its descent to another level.

His voice was mild. Slightly amused. ‘So, are we to ride up and down in the lift all day until you wish to get out?’

She stepped further to the left of him. ‘Leave me alone, Stefano.’

He didn’t lift his hand again, but his voice reached out to her. She tried to imagine a soft ball of cotton wool jamming her ears to mute the sound—it didn’t work.

‘Is a few minutes of your time so much to ask? A chance to apologise, explain a little, and then we may part as friends—or less, if that is what you wish.’

She didn’t know how much more of this power struggle she could take before those damn tears she could feel prickling behind her eyes made their escape.

She could get out on another floor, stride away, and then spend the day dreading what could be over in a few minutes if she just faced it. Over and done with. Great theory, but what if it wasn’t? She still wasn’t sure who she trusted least.

The silence lengthened. The lift stopped and began to go down further. ‘For goodness’ sake. Must you get your own way in everything?’ She stepped forward and stabbed the light for the sixteenth floor. The little button rattled with the force. ‘Get it over with.’ The lift whooshed upwards again.

Stefano winced. This was not how he had expected it would turn out. A polite thank-you, a question as to whether she was well, an apology because he had had to leave so abruptly the last time they’d been together, and—most importantly—he would see that he was not as attracted to the flesh and blood woman as his imagination had assured him. Then he could move on to his duty.

In fact, to his discomfort, the desire for Kiki back in his arms, and most assuredly in his bed, was growing stronger by the second.

Perhaps he should have stepped out of the lift on his own after all. But how was that going to help his predicament?

The lift doors opened again and he extended his arm against the doors to hold them. ‘After you.’

‘Are you? Not again, I hope,’ she muttered, and he had to bite back the smile.

This was the woman who had captured his attention over that long-ago week. With her tiny rebellions that always startled him out of his self-assurance, the rapier wit that amused him with its irreverence, the unpredictability of Kiki with the crazy name and so alluring body.

He was in trouble. But, then again, so was she.

CHAPTER THREE

KIKI PRECEDED HIM into the suite and glanced around. Very grand. Split level. She hadn’t noticed much yesterday—too many other things had been going on. Like a woman critical with shock. Like Stefano reappearing beside her. Like a hundred memories she didn’t want to remember.

She kept her back to him. ‘Must be cosy, sharing with a married couple.’

‘Their suite is very similar. Next door.’ Kiki could hear the smile in his voice. The lock clicked. ‘This is mine.’

Why did she feel there was emphasis on ‘mine’? She squared her shoulders and faced him. Why did he have to look so damned amazing. ‘So let’s have our little conversation and then I’d like to leave.’

He ignored that. The ignoring thing again. He prowled over to the drinks cabinet. Turned to face her and asked mildly, as if they did this every day, ‘Would you like something to drink?’

No, but she wouldn’t mind something in her hand she could fiddle with—or throw in defence.

Kiki circled the plush sofa and sat on an upright armchair. ‘Thank you. Soda water.’

He smiled. ‘You were always so confident.’

She ground her teeth. ‘Until I met you and thought the sun shone out of your tailbone.’

Of course he ignored that too. ‘You always had fire when roused.’ They both heard the echo of a similar word. Was that aroused?

He held out her drink and she took it carefully, so as not to touch his hand. Again his gaze met hers and she looked away. Knew his gaze never left her face. She could tell even with her fierce concentration on her glass.

His voice drifted over her like a wraith, encircling her, pulling tighter. ‘But still there is more. Yesterday you were incredibly efficient. Practised. Calm. Capable. All things I knew you would be.’

She didn’t want to hear this. She wanted out. ‘Why don’t you cut to the chase, Stefano? Why are you here on this ship?’ And, more to the point, ‘Why am I here in your suite?’

He stepped closer. ‘The truth?’

She shrugged, trying hard to disguise the fact she was getting more spooked by the minute. ‘Novel idea, I know.’

He came to stand in front of her chair. ‘I could not forget you.’

‘Spare me.’ Please don’t say that, she pleaded mentally. ‘It took you nine months to figure that out?’ She winced. Unobtrusively she eased back in the seat to create a little more space. Now she could inhale his aftershave, just a wisp, and it was true: the sense of smell was the one true memory.

He looked down. Apparently sincere. ‘I did search for you.’

‘Then you’re not very good at it, are you?’ She’d still been in the same flat for the next five months. Waiting. Hoping he’d at least call back. Until she’d woke up to reality. ‘Tell me. When did this fictitious search occur?’

Thankfully he stepped across to the window that looked out from the stern of the ship and she could breathe again.

The glorious picture window framed the blue of the ocean, the trail of the wash from their ship, and the haze of land off to the east. And the outline of Stefano’s magnificent frame.

‘It was many months before I could begin. Only now, through chance,’ he added more thoughtfully, ‘or fate, have I found your whereabouts …’

He’d waited months! Not in a hurry to find her, then. Four weeks after he’d left she’d discovered she was pregnant. Another fourteen weeks and she’d been desperate for him to call so she could share her confusion, share her joy at the promise of finally feeling as if she belonged to someone, share her fears and hopes with the father of her child. Instead she had been completely alone.

But not as alone as she’d been when her baby had slipped away one silent night. The doctor had said her baby had a cardiac malfunction, a missing part so the growth could not progress, and she had accepted that—with grief, like the lacking in the relationship it had come from. The grief had been worse because in the beginning she had been ambivalent about its coming. Had thought more of the complications than of her own child until it had been too late for fierce regrets.

And the due date was next week.

The ever-present ache squeezed in her heart. It was time to go before her control let her down. ‘Great. Thanks for that.’ She stood, glanced at him up and down. ‘You look well. Don’t seem to be pining. I think you’ll survive.’

He stepped back into her comfort zone. ‘Is Hobson your lover?’

They were standing chest to chest, a pulsing fission of air between then, and she almost missed the question.

What? Where did this guy get off? But stoking up her anger was a good idea. Much better than sadness. Anger made her feel less trapped. Less baited by his need for control at this moment. Less weak.

Flippantly, with an airy wave of her hand, she said, ‘He’s one of them.’

The flare in his eyes stunned her.

‘Then his position has become vacant.’

She blinked. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She sat down again in shock. Any other man and she’d think he was joking. ‘You can’t do that.’ Wrong thing to say. She knew it as soon as it was out of her mouth.

He didn’t even have to say it out loud. Of course he could do it. The power of the Mykonides in the Mediterranean had never been in doubt.

Her turn to back-pedal. She’d suspected he had this side, had just never been shown it before. ‘Of course Will’s not my lover.’

Stefano cursed his temper, something he usually had an iron control over, and wheeled away to look over the sea again. The sea was unpredictable today, like his feelings for Kiki, and just as dangerous. More bad behaviour on his part. But despite that he felt his shoulders relax a little. He had not believed Hobson was her lover, but the concept had been gnawing at him since his visit to the ship’s hospital this morning.

So what else had she said that was not true. ‘Is there a man in your life at the moment?’ He could feel the beast within him stir at the thought, and it didn’t escape his notice that he had no right to ask such a thing.

She opened her eyes wide. ‘Is there a man in yours?’

Little witch. ‘Why are you baiting me?’

She glared back at him. ‘Because apologies and good wishes haven’t appeared on the menu and that was what I was promised.’

She had a point. And again he was behaving badly. Why did this happen with the woman he wanted to liaise honourably with?

He paced and came to stop in front of her. ‘I sincerely apologise for leaving without explaining my reasons.’

She nodded. ‘And the phone calls you didn’t return?’

Those he could not remember? ‘I did not get them.’

‘Perhaps not.’ Her tone said she didn’t care any more and she put her glass down. ‘I accept your apology. Thank you for my drink.’ It was untouched.

So that was that. The degree of disappointment seemed out of proportion to what he’d expected. The wall between them was too great for them to part amicably but his expectations had been optimistic. At least he knew where he stood. It was time to move on. To duty.

She stood again. ‘Goodbye, Stefano.’

But as she passed him his hand reached out of its own volition and captured her wrist. Her skin was soft and supple and so fragile. She froze and lifted her eyes to him. Limpid pools. He’d forgotten how her emotions changed their colour from brilliant blue to dark violet when she was aroused. Or angry. Which was it?

His thumb stroked the pulse on the underside of her wrist. ‘Dine with me. Tonight.’

‘No.’ She tugged in slow motion, as if already unsure if she wanted release or not.

‘Tomorrow?’ He stared into deepening violet and between them the fire flickered and stirred and the wraith encircled them both.

‘I’m working.’ Almost a whisper.

He stroked her wrist again. ‘Then it must be tonight.’

Huskily, With another brush of her tongue over her lips, she said ‘What part of no don’t you understand?’

But for Kiki it was too late. Too, too late. He’d touched her.

His hand held her wrist, his skin was on hers, and the two receptors were communicating, entwining in their own matrix of reality. The warmth crept up her body, wrapped around her in tendrils of mist, and in slow motion he drew her forward. Subconsciously she swayed like a reed towards him.

His other hand came up and tenderly brushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘You have grown even more beautiful.’

With worship his fingers slid across her cheek and along her jaw as his mouth came down, and she could do nothing but turn her face into his palm and then upwards. To wait.

As he had with their first kiss he took her breath, inhaled her soul as she did his, and the sometimes comical, sometimes cruel world disappeared.

Her hands crept up around his neck and his hands slid down, until he cupped her buttocks and pulled her in hard against him. With the taste of his lips on hers, she could feel all of him, rock-solid against her, familiar, and then his mouth recaptured hers in the way only Stefano’s could.

She moaned against his lips, her mind blank in the thick sensuality only he could create. She forgot all her intentions, all her reservations, and when he lifted her shirt, swept it over her head, sighed at her lace-covered breasts, she gazed up in a sensual mist of buried memories at the man she’d dreamt about last night.

He carried her across the room and she hooked her legs around his hips. Her mouth was on his, starving for the fuel of life she’d missed, as they went up the stairs to the loft bedroom in a haze of heat and hunger and primitive surrender.

The fog parted briefly as he lay her down, stripped off his own shirt. She could see the muscled perfection of his chest, the fine sprinkling of dark hairs and the nipples erect with his desire. Quickly he protected them both. And before her brain could function sensibly he was beside her, stroking, murmuring his delight, kissing her mouth as if he would never stop, and she was lost again despite the insistent whisper that warned she would taste remorse later.

She felt a long ridge of unfamiliar scarring on his thigh, a myriad of smaller ones, and her hand stilled. But he swept her up again before she could investigate further and the moment was lost in the maelstrom.

Stefano felt the swell in his chest, the furnace of desire for this slip of a woman who, until he touched her, could hold her own. Then she was his. He sensed it. Tasted the victory he hadn’t known he burned for until it was upon him.

Clothes had fallen away, skin melted into skin, and heat seared between them as they reacquainted, shifted, joined. Together they cried out, until the sound died in the little death and she lay beneath him, limp and spent in his arms.

Then he moved again, slowly, savouring every tiny moment, every gentle trail across pearl-coloured skin, every cupping of mounds and exploration of hollows. And always he returned to her mouth, her honeyed mouth that he could never have enough of, until the beat grew faster, the hunger more desperate, the climax more shattering, and again they collapsed.

Replete for now, in awe, still confused by the speed and urgency that had carried them both, he lay back with his arm under her, hugged her close, smiling and sated.

For the moment.

Until the drop of a tear landed on his bicep.

‘You are crying?’ Stefano felt the dagger of shame and turned to see her face. Kiss her hand. ‘I have hurt you. God, no. I am a beast.’

Kiki was in shock. She’d done it again. One touch and she’d lost all will. How could that be? She was no young and foolish teenager, swept off her feet by a handsome man. She knew what he could do. Had wept buckets at his hands before. If she didn’t get out now she would lose what shreds of self-respect she could gather from the clothes strewn around the floor.

‘I have lint in my eye. It’s okay.’ She eased out from under his hand and inched to the edge of the bed.

He sat up, the sheet falling from his chest, his hand out. ‘Let me help you.’

‘No.’ It was sharp and panicked, and she tried again in a calmer voice. ‘No. Thank you. One moment.’

A plan. She had no plan except to escape. Not to let him touch her again. Her feet touched the floor and she scooped up her underwear on her way down to the bathroom, padding down the stairs in bare feet to where her shirt lay at the bottom of the steps like an abandoned child. She scooped it up. Hopped on one leg as she slipped on her panties.

God. What had she done? How had it happened? At least he had used protection—but then they had done that last time. She would get a morning-after pill. Make sure.

All stupid thoughts when really she should be worried about escape and remaining undetected by a ship full of people who knew her. She opened and closed the bathroom door noisily, yet didn’t go in. Instead she hurriedly pulled on her bra and her shirt and slipped out through the door as soon as she was dressed.

Outside she pulled on her sandals and smoothed her clothes. To top everything off if somebody saw her leave the suite of a passenger her job would go. And she was due at work in an hour.

On the crew level she passed Miko, her friend from her first early days on the ship, when she’d been more than a little lost. He was another of her brother’s confidants, and the restaurant manager on the Sea Goddess.

She ran her fingers through her hair. Nooooo, she must look a sight. Miko raised his eyebrows, smiled sardonically, and walked on without saying a word. Did she look like a woman who had just left a man’s bed? Kiki hurried to her cabin in the crew’s quarters and as she went she groaned.

Stefano groaned too.

She’d gone. He knew it. And now, instead of finding resolution, they were in deeper trouble than before. What the hell had happened? He pushed the heel of his hand back into his forehead. Idiot!

It had been like this the first time he saw her. She’d arrived breathless, like a beautiful, vibrantly exotic bird, grabbing his attention so that he’d barely been able to concentrate on surgical technique. Her fierce intelligence had shone joyfully out of the most beautiful eyes in the operating theatre, like the Mediterranean Sea at sunrise, and he’d been lost.

His time with Kiki in Australia had blurred into a golden haze of laughter and loving and lust, and even his responsibility to Aspelicus had faded for a brief while.

When duty had called he’d fully intended going back to reassess it all properly—discover where it led. He had thought it would be a matter of days before his return, but first there had been the accident, then the months of rehabilitation, when the chance of losing the use of his leg had hung in the balance. It had all kept him away. As if the gods had intended they should both suffer for too perfect a match.

By then she’d disappeared. And more crises had arrived. Slowly his mind had been torn from her as well—except for that tiny halo in his heart.

But it was bad that he had hurt her. Profoundly. He could see that now, and deeply he regretted it. The trouble was that it seemed if he had an opportunity to hold her again he had no choice but to take it. Hold her. Lose himself. This had to stop. This was not healthy. Not wholesome. Because the way he felt at this moment he would destroy them both before he could stop the way he wanted her.

The next morning, as the ship moored at Civitavecchia for Rome, the clinic was quiet.

‘You okay?’ Will looked at Kiki with concern.

She forced a smile. ‘I must have eaten something that disagreed with me.’

Like a morning-after pill that sat on her stomach like a rock. She couldn’t rid her mind of the distant warning that this had been the only chance she’d had to carry Stefano’s child again. She hated that thought.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.