She was dancing with one islander after another. They were treating her with awe. What a difference a frock makes, she thought ruefully. When she was a child these men and women had obeyed the King’s ruling and had nothing to do with her.

Only Nikos and his mother had defied the King.

Nikos…He was dancing too, with one beautiful woman after another. Mr Popularity.

That was unfair, she conceded. She’d been here less than a day, but already she was being told how much Nikos had done for this island. He’d fought Giorgos every step of the way.

But…she was his tool, she thought bleakly, as the night wore on. She was a tool for Nikos to use in his fight to save the island. And as for the past…How much of that had been real and how much had it been Nikos’s desire to rule this island as he wanted it to be ruled?

The dancing ended. She needed air. She left the ballroom and the crowd parted before her as if she was…royalty.

Could she ever get used to this?

The room next to the ballroom was the great hall where dinner had been served. It was deserted now, cleared and empty. But its vast windows looked onto a balcony, and the balcony looked over the sea.

She walked out and stood at the parapet, gazing out over the ocean. Breathing the night air. Breathe in, breathe out. Try to relax.

She smelled the salt breeze from the sea. There was the scent of flowers she hadn’t seen or smelled for ten years.

She loved this island. Loved it.

‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’

She whirled and it was Demos, portly and flaccid and simmering with obvious rage. He walked out and slammed the door behind him. ‘Do you seriously think you can get away with this?’

‘With what?’

‘It’s mine,’ he said fiercely, stepping towards her with an intent that frightened her. ‘Giorgos always meant it to go to me.’

‘Giorgos no longer has a say in how this island will be ruled. It’s in the hands of the…’

‘The gods? Don’t give me that. You’re not wanted here. You promised me…’

‘I meant the people. And I didn’t promise you anything.’

‘Liar.’

‘You lied to me,’ she said evenly. ‘You said you cared for this island. Now I find it was just greed.’

He was so close to her she could feel his breath. He was pushing his body into her space, so her back was hard against the parapet. ‘You left this island to have a kid. Nikos’s kid. They’re all saying it. You think we want a woman like you to run the island?’

‘I care for the island more than you do.’

‘You don’t know what care is.’ He closed his eyes. Regrouped. ‘Okay. Here’s another solution. You know how much these diamond mines are worth? We can split it. You don’t want to live here. Neither do I-it’s the pits-but someone has to. You go back to your life in New York and I’ll take over. I’ll do what has to be done and we’ll cut the profits. Fifty-fifty. You can’t say fairer than that.’

‘Demos,’ she said, trying desperately to keep her voice steady, ‘I’m not opening the mines.’

‘You might have to.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘There are ways,’ he said viciously. ‘You care about your kid, don’t you. It’d be a shame if anything happened to him. You can’t watch him all the time. You go back to Manhattan and he’ll be safe again.’

She felt cold and she felt sick.

‘You can’t hurt us,’ she managed.

And he simply smiled. And he raised a hand to hit her.

Only…he didn’t. She was backed as far as she could, putting her hands up in a futile attempt to prevent a blow, but the sweeping hand didn’t reach her.

A dark shape had sprung from the shadows as if it had always been there. Demos’s hand was held before it had a chance to find its mark.

Demos twisted, lashing out with his boots, moving so the shadow was now in the light.

Nikos.

‘How dare you touch her?’ He let Demos’s hand drop as if it was slime. Demos struck out again, but Nikos was before him. He punched, so hard that Demos sprawled backward, crashing over an ornate chair, falling, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Lying there for one long moment while Thena thought, dear God, he’s killed him.

Nikos didn’t say a word. His hand came out and took Thena’s, holding hard.

An oath came from the tiled floor. Not dead, then.

Nikos tugged her hard against him, putting her slightly behind him, his body between her and her cousin. He watched in grim silence as Demos struggled to his feet.

Demos straightened, swore again and looked at Nikos with murder in his eyes. If he’d had a gun, Athena thought with a shiver of pure dread, then Nikos would be dead. Or if he’d been wearing Alexandros’s ceremonial sword…

‘What is she to you?’ he snarled to Nikos. ‘This has nothing to do with you.’

‘Princess Athena is the mother of my son,’ Nikos said and his voice made Athena shudder. It was as cold as ice, rigid, formal and grim. ‘You just threatened my son. And…’ he tugged Athena closer ‘…you were about to strike my woman. I’ll defend what’s mine, and this woman and her son are mine. Hear me well, Demos, for I mean every word. Get yourself out of this palace and off the royal grounds. If you’re seen within sight of Princess Athena or her son again you’ll be thrown off the island, never to return.’

Then he turned his back on Demos as if he had no interest in him at all-and he took Athena into his arms.

CHAPTER SIX

ATHENA stayed right where she was, held tight against Nikos.

She was shuddering so hard she couldn’t stop, and it was easier to stay than to pull away. For who wanted to pull away?

She no longer knew what Demos was doing. She couldn’t see-Nikos didn’t let her see. She was aware of heavy breathing, of his sinister presence. Nikos must be watching him, but her face was buried against his chest.

‘Leave,’ Nikos said again, quietly. There was a loaded silence, then a muttered oath of such invective it took her breath away-and Demos was gone.

‘He hates me,’ she whispered, feeling ill.

‘He doesn’t love and he doesn’t hate,’ Nikos said. ‘He wants. He wants wealth and more wealth. Thena…’ He put her away from him, holding her at arm’s length.

‘Thena, you’re standing between Demos and a fortune.’

‘I don’t want it.’

‘That’s why I brought you home,’ he said softly. ‘Because you’d never want it. I knew that about you when you were eight years old, and people can’t change so much. Demos was greedy from the start. He’ll destroy these islands. You can face up to him but…’

‘But I don’t want to.’

‘No. And you also say you’re going back to New York. I understand your career is important to you. You put it before the island once before-and I understand you’ll do it again. But these people want a figurehead, Thena.’

‘I’m not a figurehead. I’m just me.’

He shook his head at that one. ‘Look at you,’ he said, smiling wryly, and once more he had her at arm’s length. ‘You’re stunning. You’re every inch a princess. You’re who the people want.’

‘I don’t want to be royal.’

‘Sometimes what we want and don’t want doesn’t come into it,’ he said softly. ‘Demos isn’t alone, you know. There are heavies behind him.’

‘Heavies?’

‘Yes.’

‘Like…armed thugs. People who could hurt my Nicky?’ She whirled away from him and headed for the door but his hand came out and caught her. ‘Let me go.’ She wrenched back but he didn’t release her. He tugged her closer so her breasts were against his chest. He had her by one arm, holding it about her, tugging her in so she was pulled tight against him.

‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m going to Nicky.’ But he was letting her go nowhere.

‘He’s safe. I’ve had security guards watch you both from the moment you set foot on the island.’ He smiled, apologetic. ‘Longer, in fact. Even in Manhattan. You lessened the risk by telling Demos he could have the throne but even then we didn’t trust him.’

‘We?’

‘There are many islanders whose livelihoods hang on you inheriting,’ he said. ‘Demos’s heavies don’t have it all their own way. For if Demos succeeds…’

‘You really think he’d hurt Nicky?’

‘Yes.’ It was a flat statement with no equivocation.

‘Then I’m leaving. He can have it. I don’t want it. Not if it puts Nicky in the slightest danger. Let me go!’

‘Thena, do you really want Demos to destroy these islands?’

His voice was grave, low and urgent, and something about his tone stopped the rising hysteria, the rising panic.

This was the real Nikos. The Nikos she’d spent her teenage years with. The Nikos who cared about this place so passionately that he’d taught her to care as well.

Until she’d met Nikos she’d been taught to feel as trapped as her mother was trapped. ‘We’d leave if we could afford it,’ her mother had told her. ‘I’m so sorry you have to stay here. I’m so sorry the royals are destroying your life as well as mine.’

That was how she’d been raised, but then along came Nikos, with his passion, his fire, his certainty that they could make things right.

She’d fallen in love with his fire.

And she heard that fire now, the sheer single-minded determination to create justice for this island, to do whatever needed to be done to achieve that end.

‘I can’t care,’ she whispered. ‘Not if Nicky’s in danger. You’d feel the same if it was Christa.’

‘I feel the same that it’s Nicky,’ he said. ‘He’s my son, too.’

Once again he’d taken her breath away. He was still holding her, hand to hand, his hold imparting warmth, strength and urgency.

‘He’s not…I mean, how can you care?’

‘I would have cared for ten years if you’d let me.’

And the old anger stirred. For ten long years…‘Not one call, Nikos.’

‘Not one letter, Thena.’