‘Well, good for Elsa.’ And, dumbly, Elsa found she was blushing with pleasure. ‘Can I see?’ he asked.

‘I’ll get it,’ she said and headed for the bathroom-and even that was a minor miracle. For Zoe to let her leave the room while a strange doctor was examining her…Definitely a miracle.

She didn’t push it, though. She was back in seconds, carrying a hefty plastic crate. She set it down and Stefanos examined its contents and whistled.

‘You have enough here to treat an elephant,’ he said. ‘You don’t have an elephant hidden under a bed somewhere, do you?’

Once again Zoe giggled. It was the best sound. It made her feel…It made her feel…

No. She would not get turned on because this man made a child giggle.

Only she already was. She was fighting hormones here as hard as she could. And losing.

It had been too long. You’re a sick, sad spinster, she told herself, and then rebuked herself sharply. Not a spinster. She glanced across at the mantel, and Matty’s face smiled down at her from its frame. Sorry, she told him under her breath. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

‘You know, I’m sure I can fix this.’ Stefanos’s words tugged her attention straight back to him. ‘Zoe, if you and Elsa trust me…I think all this needs is some antiseptic cream, a couple of Steri-Strips to tug it together-see, it’s at the end of the graft so we can attach the strips to good skin on either side and tug it together. Then we can pop one of these waterproof dressings over the whole thing and you could even go swimming this morning. Which, seeing I brought my bathers, is probably a good thing.’ He grinned.

And Elsa thought, I’m in trouble here. I’m in serious trouble.

But they were moving on. Stefanos rose and washed his hands with the thoroughness of a surgeon. Then he lifted Zoe carefully-being mindful of where her scars were without Zoe noticing he was mindful, Elsa thought. He sat her on the kitchen table and proceeded to do his stuff.

He was skilled. She just had to see those fingers gently probing. She just had to listen to him chat to Zoe, distracting her as he worked. He was so careful, so precise, and she thought of all the doctors who’d treated Zoe over the past four years and she thought this man was a blessing.

This man wanted to take Zoe away.

This man was Zoe’s cousin-a prince.

This man was a doctor, with all the skills needed to take care of her.

She was a marine biologist with nothing.

He was applying the waterproof dressing now and he glanced over his shoulder to say something to her. And he saw her expression. She’d tried to get it under control but he could see-she knew he could see.

‘There’s nothing to be afraid of, Elsa,’ he said gently and she thought, You don’t know the half of it. Nothing to be afraid of? When he was threatening to turn her world around?

‘I…You came here to talk,’ she said, and it was really hard to get her words out.

‘I came here to swim,’ he said. ‘Are there any other problems to sort before we swim? Nothing I can treat? Ingrown toenails? Snakebite? Measles?’

Zoe giggled again and wriggled down from the table. She was totally at ease now, completely relaxed in his company.

He couldn’t take her away, she thought frantically. Zoe would always want her. Wouldn’t she?

There’s nothing to be afraid of, she told herself, but she knew she was lying.

There was everything to be afraid of. Everything she held dear.

But for now…it seemed they were going for a swim.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE swim was glorious, fun and deeply scary.

Glorious in that the weather gods had decided this was another day out of the box-brilliant sunshine but not too hot, the water cool enough to refresh but not so cold they couldn’t stay in for as long they wanted, turquoise-clear so they could see everything on the bottom.

Fun because Stefanos made it fun. He twisted and turned under the water, teaching Zoe new tricks, tickling her toes on the sandy bottom, making her play as a child should play. As Zoe had been unable to play.

She’d been isolated for so long. She should be with other children, but there were so many complications. Twice Elsa had tried to send her to school but each time she’d ended up with a major infection and back in hospital.

So if it couldn’t be a bunch of kids whooping and hollering around her, Stefanos was definitely next best. He was a fabulous swimmer and he knew how to make Zoe laugh.

Of course he was and of course he did, Elsa thought, with what she recognised as dumb and irrational resentment. She loved that Zoe was falling for Stefanos’s charm, but she was also fearful of it.

She was fearful of falling for Stefanos’s charm herself.

Because he was…gorgeous. She’d seen him yesterday in full royal regalia and thought he was gorgeous then. She’d seen him this morning in his jeans and T-shirt and thought he was just plain yummy. Now, clad only in his board shorts, she could hardly keep her eyes off him. Lean and tanned, every muscle delineated…

He was a doctor, for heaven’s sake. He must spend his life indoors. Where had he got those muscles?

He was scaring her. Not only because of what he’d suggested yesterday-that he take Zoe away. Not only because of his effect on Zoe. But because of his effect on her.

Mathew had been dead for four years now. Her friends told her it was time to move on.

She’d never had the slightest urge to move on, until right now. And now…what her body was telling her, what her hormones were telling her, felt like a betrayal.

‘Mathew, Mathew, Mathew,’ she murmured over and over, and because Zoe was perfectly safe with her big cousin, because Stefanos’s sole desire seemed to be to make the little girl laugh, she left them to it, stroking strongly out across the entrance to the cove.

She put her head down and swam as she never swam, for it wasn’t safe to do this when no one was here to watch Zoe. She’d always gloried in swimming. It was her quiet time. Her time of peace. She was swimming now, hoping her head could settle, so her jumbled thoughts could somehow untangle, so she could find the strength to stand up to this unknown prince and his terrifying charm.

She lost track of time. She swam and swam and finally when she raised her head she realised Zoe and Stefanos were out of the water, standing on the beach and watching her.

And that felt strange too. That this man was watching her…

She caught a wave back to the beach, surfing in with the agility she’d always gloried in. The sea had always been her escape. It could be again, she thought. If the worst happened. If he took Zoe away…

They strolled down the beach to meet her. Her wave washed her into the shallows, she wiped her eyes and looked up to find Stefanos standing above her, smiling, holding out his hand to tug her up.

She nearly didn’t take it, she was so disconcerted. But that’d be petty. Zoe was standing beside him, beaming, waiting for her to stand.

She took his hand, he tugged her up and she came up too fast.

She stumbled and he steadied her. Which was a tiny gesture-Prince steadies Elsa-and why the feel of his hands on her waist should have the power to totally disconcert her she didn’t know.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said and she was disconcerted all over again.

‘Do you…’ She fought for breath and took a while finding it. ‘Do you mind?’

‘I’m only speaking the truth.’

‘Right,’ she said and headed up the beach fast. She grabbed her towel and disappeared underneath. At least here she could get her face under control.

Beautiful?

Matty had thought she was beautiful. Until then no one. After him no one.

She wasn’t even wearing a bathing suit. Neither she nor Zoe did. They both wore shorts and T-shirts. It’d be unfair for her to wear pretty bathers when Zoe had to wear scar-covering clothes. And she had scars herself-nothing like Zoe’s, but bad enough.

And besides, she thought grimly, she was mousy. She’d always been mousy and she always would be mousy. Mathew had thought she was beautiful because he’d fallen in love with her mind. He’d been academically brilliant and he’d loved that she could keep up with him. Her intelligence was a turn on.

But her body? Not so much that he’d ever said. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder and in Mathew’s eyes she was his brilliant wife.

Matty.

Dammit, why wasn’t he here? And…why was he starting to fade? It was terrifying that when she thought of him now the image that came straight to mind was the photograph on the mantel. Photographs were becoming the reality, and reality moved on, whether she willed it or not.

All this she thought under her towel. All this she thought while she rubbed her hair dry.

‘Zoe and I think your hair will dry faster in the sun.’

His voice made her jump. They’d followed her up the beach!

You’re not being paranoid? she demanded of herself, and she knew that she was.

‘It’s lunch time,’ Zoe said, puzzled. ‘You never take this long to dry your hair.’

And I never have a Prince of the Blood waiting to see when I’ll come out from my towel, she thought, but what the heck, there was no choice.

She emerged. She wrapped her towel around her hair and she checked on Zoe. Another surprise. She was wrapped sarong-style in her towel.

‘You’re dry.’

‘Stefanos dried me,’ she said. ‘And he was really careful of my scars.’

Once again, a jolt. Here was another adult with the responsibility and skills to help her look after this injured child.

If he lived down the road she’d welcome him with open arms.

He lived on the Diamond Isles. Khryseis. A world away from her world.

‘Lunch,’ he said, smiling at her, and there was a trace of sympathy in his smile that said he understood her turmoil. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stop it, but he understood.