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His Princess in the Making
His Princess in the Making
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His Princess in the Making

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She reminded herself of it every day, almost every hour—and still she kept expecting the alarm to go off and to wake up back in her bedroom in Ryde…

Despite the day’s warmth, her hands and feet were cold. She chewed on her lip as the black Rolls turned smoothly and came through the gates. She winced as the press took hundreds of shots of the car’s occupants.

He was here. Toby was here.

The butterflies in her stomach turned to woodpeckers.

“It’ll be fine, Lia, you’ll see,” Charlie muttered as he waited beside her. “Don’t worry so much.”

She smiled and pressed her brother’s hand, knowing Charlie didn’t believe it any more than she did. Though he’d insisted on the King bringing Toby here, to talk everything out with their best friend, there was nothing anyone could say or do to fix the crisis she and Charlie found themselves in, unless they could find a way to turn back time. Charlie would be the next king of Hellenia, and Lia would be Princess Royal, with all its luxury—and its duty. Including creating much-needed royal heirs.

Charlie might be between a rock and a hard place, but at least he and Jazmine were deeply attracted. They had a chance at happiness.

She, Lia, had the choice of the devil and the stormy, blue sea.

The Rolls pulled up in front of them. The chauffeur opened the door for him and Toby, big, strong and dependable, emerged from the car. Joy surged through her at the sight of him.

Then she saw his face, let go of Charlie’s hand and gasped. Something awful ran through her body, like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical socket.

Toby was her gentle giant, her quiet tower of strength, who knew and loved her just as she was despite her inadequacies. For more than a decade she’d counted on seeing the tenderness in his summer-sky eyes, the sweet curve of his slow, sunlit smile, and the flash of his deep-grooved dimples when he looked at her.

Now, as he took in the changes to her hair, the obvious designer touches to her clothes, the look on his face—cold and unemotional—hurt her. It had been so stupid to indulge in the small, pitiful hope that in these clothes, with her hair cut and some subtle make-up applied, he’d find her pretty at last…

Until this moment she’d never seen the blackness Charlie claimed was inside him. She had only one single memory where Toby had looked at her without a smile—the day she’d discovered his family was exploding, and she’d brought him home to live with the family. Even when she’d woken up in the clinic after her collapse four years later, he’d smiled, held her tight and thanked God she was still with him.

But today there was no smile. She saw his soul from the mirror of his eyes, turning the bright summer day to night. Until now she hadn’t thought of his reaction to crossing the world for her, losing career, home and freedom of choice.

Lia fiddled with her hands. Her toes did the squirmy thing she hated. “T-Toby?”

His eyes met hers, in a searching that felt like a winter’s night…and then, like a miracle unfolding before her, they softened and lightened.

“Toby,” she whispered, and took a hesitant step. Her arms, of their own accord, reached for him. When his opened in return, and he smiled that slow, sunlit smile so uniquely his, she couldn’t hold in the sob of relief.

“Toby, oh, Toby, I’ve missed you!” she choked, and ran slam into his arms.

“Giulia, beloved,” he murmured into her hair as he held on fast.

And after a month of weathering storms of right royal proportions, the world felt right at last. Toby was here, her one-of-a-kind, wonderful friend who knew her, good and bad, weak or strong—and just loved her. She loved the endearments he used for her alone. Most women loved the way he spoke—or maybe they just loved his striking looks. But he’d never called the girls he’d dated “beloved,” only her. She loved it—so different from “babe” or “doll” or “sweetheart”, or the other normal nicknames guys called their women.

But she wasn’t his woman—she never had been—and that made the difference. Friendly love took away demands, emotional confrontations and expectation.

She ought to know. After enduring the world’s most stupid crush on her best friend all through her teen years, she’d finally given up hoping he’d look her way. Only then had the world shifted onto its right axis, and the best-friend love they were always meant to share had been theirs. They could hold each other without any silliness.

Only, the funny thing now was… Was he—aroused? No, that was ridiculous; he’d never wanted her that way. She tried to dismiss it from her mind as a guy thing, an involuntary reaction of some kind, and held tight to him anyway—best friends could do that. She whispered, “Toby, Toby,” as if he was a phantom that might disappear at any moment.

He smiled down at her, tender and loving. “Miss me, beautiful girl?”

“Like half of me was gone,” she choked. Like thesunshine had disappeared.

“So I gather I need not bow and say Your Highness, as instructed?”

The tone of his deep, rumbling voice, rich with teasing, made her gasp with relief. “You do and I’ll hit you.”

As he chuckled and caressed her hair, she kissed his cheek—and felt the old urge to taste his skin with her tongue.

Okay, so she’d never quite conquered this—this idiotic feeling of being turned on by her best friend. She’d accepted it couldn’t happen. It was just a physical thing—probably because she’d never met another man who made her feel dainty, feminine and aroused with a touch. But she’d sworn long ago she’d never embarrass him, or herself, by burdening him with her desires again. She’d done that eleven years ago, at that wretched New Year’s party, and had almost destroyed their friendship.

She’d never risk losing him again.

He’d given her so much during the past ten years. He’d just proved his devotion by crossing the world for her. Why ruin something so perfect and wonderful for something only one of them had ever wanted?

“Hey, Grizz, don’t I even get a hello?”

Toby smiled at Charlie, but didn’t let go of her. Possibly because he could tell she’d refuse to release him an inch. “Rip, my old friend—or must I call you Your Royal Highness now?”

“Oh, shut up, you dumb jerk,” Charlie growled with a grin, and thumped him on the back. “Man, it’s good to see you.”

Lia pulled back to look into his eyes, the anxiety not quite dissipated. “You understand why we couldn’t tell you anything or call you, don’t you, Toby?”

“No, I don’t understand in the least. I shall demand at least four home-made moussakas and two chocolate cakes in recompense for weeks of terror and loneliness without you, being followed by the press for my opinion on your status that I couldn’t answer—not to mention feeding and being dragged on a leash down city streets and into trees and electrical poles by the abominable Puck. And let’s not forget the ‘no questions asked’ abduction by ASIO, the interrogation and being whipped onto a jet without so much as a by-your-leave. You are permanently in my debt, beautiful girl—and I will demand adequate recompense at the appropriate time.” He smiled down at her.

Stupid, stupid body… Why did she always quiver when he smiled like that? Why did a simple curve of his lips always make her feel as if the world had stopped and they were the only people in the universe? “I’ve been in your debt for years, and you’ve never once collected.”

“Perhaps what I want needs a debt this massive, my Giulia,” he said softly, with an intensity in his eyes she couldn’t quite fathom. “Perhaps I always felt as deeply in your debt by your magnificent care for the tag-along in the family.”

“Don’t be silly, you are family. So where is Puck now?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. If Toby knew what the sweet intimacy in his voice did to her, he’d… Well, no, he wouldn’t laugh at her. Not again. But he’d be ashamed and embarrassed, and all the things he’d been before, making for months of unbearable awkwardness between them.

Toby cocked his head to the car with a long-suffering grin. “He wouldn’t stop yapping and chasing his tail, even when they brought him to me. ASIO called in a veterinarian for clearance papers for him—and also, against my protests, for sedation. He should wake up any time now.”

“Oh, my poor Puck!” She raced to the car, dragging Toby with her, and yanked the door open, her face splitting with a smile she hadn’t felt inside herself since they’d walked into the lawyer’s office in Sydney. Being Hellenia’s Princess Royal was a privilege and honour; she knew that. But it was still alien to her. She felt as if she was stumbling though each long day of lessons and duties, working out ways to help the people of Hellenia, and brokering peace between Charlie and the King.

But now Toby was here, and all was right with the world.

“I can’t believe you brought that mangy mongrel,” Charlie grumbled good-naturedly as he followed them.

“Yes, a distinctly unroyal mutt—definitely not princess material. I dread seeing what antics he’ll get up to in the palace. Giulia, perhaps it might be best to leave him in the travelling cage.”

Lia ignored them both. They’d been mock-complaining about Puck since she’d brought him home as a puppy a year ago, a gift from one of her dance pupils. She’d originally called him Boofhead, but Toby had named him Puck—because, like the Shakespearean character, he annoyed everybody—and the name had stuck. She opened the travelling cage and pulled her sleepy dog out, half Miniature German Schnauzer and half heaven knew what. She lifted him against her chest and hugged him one-armed, because, even cuddling her pet, she couldn’t let go of Toby, could hardly believe he was here. The nightmare felt more bearable with him beside her.

“Remember, you owe me four moussakas,” he whispered in her ear. “Among other debts I choose to collect at the right time and place.”

Oh, how she loved and hated the warm, shivering excitement that streaked through her at the intimacy. Hated the sense of cheated unfairness that, of all the men in the world, only her dearest friend made her feel as if she was melting inside with a simple whisper.

Stop it. He’s your best friend, almost a brother.You’re a woman now, and a princess. You’re practicallyengaged—to a rich, handsome, kind…stranger.

“Does your silence indicate that you’re too grand these days to enter a kitchen to make me moussaka, Giulia?”

It took a mammoth effort to grin up at Toby as if nothing was wrong, but she’d been practising the skill for years, and she had the hang of it now. “No, the kitchen’s too grand for me. You should see the one here. I went in one night, took one look and bolted back to my rooms.”

His eyes twinkled. “You require my reassuring and close-to-massive presence to terminate the feeling of smallness in the royal scale of size, my Giulia?”

She choked on laughter. “You’ve got to know how much I’ve missed you, when hearing your crazy vocabulary makes me feel so happy.”

He grinned, unperturbed by the teasing. “It all feels a little surreal to you still? I gather my presence makes things more real for you?”

Her eyes drank him in, her oasis in this sumptuous desert called royal life. “Nothing’s right without you—or Puck,” she added, to keep things light, holding tight to the mutt who rarely slowed down long enough for cuddles of this kind.

“Is that so?” Toby’s grin seemed deliberately light, as if he was testing her. “You would appreciate my presence and blessing on your upcoming nuptials to the Grand Duke, Your Highness?”

She shivered. “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, resisting the urge to bury her face in his shoulder; instead she looked away. “I’m not her, I’m not that person…not with you. And—and Max…I…”

After a brief hesitation, he asked softly, “You don’t like the Grand Duke?”

She saw Charlie’s hand gripping his shoulder, and knew he wanted to know her answer too. They all wanted to know—the King, Jazmine, Charlie, her minders and diplomatic staff—not to mention the world press. Max was the only one who seemed willing to wait.

Well, they’d all have to wait. She had enough changes to deal with, just getting used to being called Your Highness, learning new duties and languages, and how to speak to strangers of varying importance with grace instead of blushing and wanting to hide. In being Hellenia’s new princess, she finally felt as if she was in a position to help others, but she’d spent a quiet, almost invisible life until now. She didn’t know how she’d accustom herself to being important to anyone, always being followed around, having black-suited, armed professionals watching her every move.

When it came to dissecting her emotions, she’d always felt like a fish on the end of a line, floundering about with no result. In all her life, it had seemed she could never have the few things she wanted, and could always have what she didn’t want.

Max was the perfect, handsome, kind point in question.

“I do like Max. Of course I do,” she said quietly. “He’s lovely and kind, and understanding—handsome too.” She flashed Toby a quirky grin. “He’s the standard fairy-tale prince…well, duke. I do like him—everybody likes Max—but…” She stopped when she heard the stilted tone in her voice.

She’d long ago accepted that she was the kind of woman who cooked and cleaned and looked after others, not the kind men fell for—but it didn’t stop the useless wishing. Why couldn’t just one man look at her, really see her, and find her pretty—and to mean it, to want her?

And Max—didn’t. In the month he’d become a friend, a willing listener and shoulder when this life overwhelmed her. It was brother-to-sister caring—again.

How could she tell Toby how humiliating it felt never to know how it felt to have a man want her? Especially when he’d been the man she’d wanted for so long, and he knew it. It could only fill him with embarrassment and guilt, when he’d never wanted her either.

The flashes of the cameras at the gates were still going a mile a second—and after looking over there Charlie’s hand fell from Toby’s shoulder. “I think it’s time you went inside to meet the new rellies.” There was dry humour in his tone.

“Including the little woman,” Toby joked back, with a grin. Despite the endless stress of the past weeks, Lia wanted to smile. Toby always opened the door to Charlie’s reluctant emotions with laughter, giving him time to gather his thoughts before he spoke.

“Little, but she makes an impact,” Charlie shot back dryly, the grin diluted by the lifted brow. He turned toward the palace, his arm slung casually around Toby’s shoulders. She held onto him from the other side.

It felt unbreakable: the Three Musketeers going into battle.

Four Musketeers, including Puck. The image of her tousled, yapping pet as D’ Artagnan made her chuckle.

He didn’t ask why she laughed. He knew she’d tell him.

She turned to Toby, biting a corner of her lip, filled with delicious laughter. “I wonder how the King’s going to react to my dog in the palace.”

“Vesuvius or Etna?” His tone was dry. “I’ve been informed His Majesty is somewhat of a hothead.”

“Just a bit,” Charlie answered, with a world of dryness in his voice.

“He’s used to getting his way, that’s for sure. And when he doesn’t…” Lia shuddered. “With Theo Angelis and Puck in one room, I have a feeling the explosion will be more like Krakatoa.”

CHAPTER TWO

OF COURSE, taking the dumb mutt out of the travelling cage ended in disaster.

Puck woke up just as Toby was connecting quite nicely with the bed-ridden old monarch. Puck squirmed out of Giulia’s arms—the stupid dogdidn’t know his luck resting against her beautifulbreasts; if she ever let him that close he’d nevermove again—and raced around the invalid’s room, marking his territory with excited yelps.

Not the best introduction to the last member of the Costa family.

While servants flooded the place and everyone ran around after the dog—trying to stop the million-and-one leg-liftings Puck had to perform every time he was somewhere new—the King, the only one seemingly unperturbed by the canine antics, tipped his fingers in silent beckoning to Toby.

Toby crossed the room, knowing what was coming.

“Make no mistake, boy. You’re here to talk them both into staying—to doing their duty to their country—and after the weddings you go back to where you belong,” the King muttered.

While Toby wasn’t about to rouse the fears of an old man recovering from a heart attack, no matter how minor, he couldn’t lie either. “I came to help, sire—but I belong with Charlie and Giulia, no matter where they are. We’re family, sire.”

The simple statement of fact created his first enemy in the palace.

His own stupidity created the second.

When he met Princess Jazmine and the Grand Duke, he kept his attention on them. If his heart sank at the suave, handsome, friendly perfection that was Giulia’s “lovely” Max, he kept it to himself. He was too aware that the King was watching his every interaction with Giulia like a hawk.

In a month, everything had changed. The old king, sick and in the twilight days of his rule, still held the power over whether he stayed or was bundled back on that jet—and Charlie and Giulia needed him here.

Yet, despite her earlier joy at his arrival, Giulia seemed too quiet. She was looking at her feet, avoiding everyone’s eyes. In spite of her perfect appearance, something was wrong inside her—and yes, as he’d feared, she had lost weight. The lovely ripe curves he loved so much were too slender for a woman of five-foot-ten. Her skin was paler than he liked, and her eyes didn’t have the fresh sparkle she always had when she’d been out in the sun, communing with nature—another of her stress releases, along with cooking and reading.

He’d have to get her out there again. That was, if he could get rid of all the black-suited minders, cameras and royal watchers. If he could allay the old man’s suspicions and gain his trust.

It wasn’t going to happen. Sick and fighting for the good of his people, the King had seen straight through all Toby’s defences that had been in place for a decade. The King knew how he felt aboutGiulia. The only person who knew his secret was the only enemy he’d ever made in his life, and the most powerful man in the country.

So he might as well be honest. Any chance to get her alone, and let her tell him what was going on with her.

“Giulia, my beloved, to put it without any overkill, even jet food sucks. I’ve missed both you and your cooking like hell the past weeks. Therefore, I opine, it’s way past the time when we disappear to discover the royal kitchens and make some of your unbelievably delicious moussaka, and those decadent mud muffins the way only you can make them…and we can talk.”

Why did she take so long to look up? But when she did he lost his breath. For a moment, a bare second, as she lifted her gaze to his the look he’d hungered to see for a decade was there. The chocolate-dark, slumberous eyes held desire.

Then it vanished as if it had never been, leaving him wondering if it was jet lag, their long separation or the same useless wishing he’d known for so long.

But if he’d imagined it, so had Charlie and the King. Charlie’s eyes were glazed with shock—and the look the old man gave Toby was even harder, more calculating. “I think it’s time we allowed these three to catch up.” The unspoken words hovered between king and commoner: the sooner you helpthem decide, the sooner you go.

As if in harmony with the King’s silent declaration of war, Jazmine and Max both nodded. “We’ll leave you,” Max said, with a smile aimed at Giulia alone.

“No, we’ll go to my room.” Giulia sounded off-kilter. “No cameras.”

“That wouldn’t be appropriate for a princess, my dear,” the King said, gently but with finality. “Even such an old friend as Toby cannot enter your room.”

Watching closely, Toby saw her nostrils flare a little, her lush mouth tighten, but she nodded, a short, jerking movement of her head.

“I’ll make sure the cameras are turned off in the tea room, and nobody will be at the balconies,” Jazmine said quietly. “They can wait at the base of the stairs.”