Betrothed: To the People's Prince. Marion Lennox

women—of course there had. As the owner of the biggest fishing fleet in the Diamond Isles he was considered more than eligible. He was never lost for…companionship, only every woman he dated compared with Athena.

      Even the woman he’d married.

      Especially the woman he’d married.

      The old anger gripped him, tore at him. The old hunger…

      Only it wasn’t an old hunger. It was as real and as raw tonight as it had ever been.

      He opened the door to the adjoining hotel room. The woman from the hotel sitting service rose to leave.

      ‘She’s been very good, sir. I read her the book like you said. She even undressed herself. I didn’t think…’

      ‘That’s great,’ he said. He didn’t want to hear what she didn’t think.

      ‘Goodnight, then,’ the woman said and slipped away into the night.

      He stood for a moment gazing down at Christa. His daughter was sucking her thumb, even in sleep. She shouldn’t—but who cared?

      He crossed to the bed and sat down beside his sleeping child. He stroked her pretty dark hair. She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at him. ‘Papa.’

      ‘Go to sleep, kitten,’ he said softly.

      ‘N…nice.’ She closed her eyes again and was instantly asleep.

      How could he still be angry? Athena had moved away but now, in his heart, in her stead, he had his little daughter.

      For years he’d tried to think that. It didn’t work. It never had.

      For years he’d envisaged Athena in a barren, lonely existence in a strange land. He’d almost hoped for it.

      She’d left him. He should have cut off all thoughts of her. He shouldn’t care.

      But it wasn’t possible. Not then and not now.

      Athena…or his daughter.

      Athena and the unknown Oscar and Nicholas.

      So she had a family, too. Well, so be it, he thought, trying to be rational. He had his Christa and he was content. What he was feeling now was the echoes of the past. From now on the personal had to be set aside for the good of the island.

      Tomorrow he had to find her again. She had to face her duty. She must.

      He’d take Christa sightseeing tomorrow morning. Maybe they could take a buggy ride round Central Park. She’d enjoy that. Then, in the afternoon, he’d go to see Athena again.

      And get his jacket back.

      He thought of his jacket as he’d last seen it, draped round Athena’s shoulders as she’d fled the restaurant. Maybe he should have followed her.

      But…and it was a big but. There had been fear in her eyes as she’d fled. Real fear.

      He didn’t know why. He intended to find out, but for now…He was inexplicably glad she’d worn his jacket home.

      How could she explain a man’s jacket to the unknown Nicholas and Oscar? Unaccountably, he found himself smiling. He hoped they were good to her. Yeah, that was a rational thought. Generous, even.

      But…she had to come back to the island, even if it meant she brought this unknown Oscar and Nicholas with her. Though their existence could make things much more complicated.

      Whatever. Tomorrow could be faced tomorrow, he told himself, trying to block out the unwanted image of Athena with another man by her side. Trying to block out how it made him feel. After all this time, surely jealousy was crazy.

      Of course it was.

      He kissed his daughter softly on the forehead, the touch and scent of her soft little body helping him put things into perspective.

      ‘Goodnight, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘We’ll have a good time tomorrow; just see if we don’t. And then we’ll persuade the Princess Athena to come home. Where we belong and where she belongs, too.’

      In the morning the sun finally decided to shine. Nikos and his little daughter did the circuit of Central Park twice, and then they did it again. Christa’s unalloyed happiness, the sun on her face, the beauty of the horses, the garishness of the decoration on the buggy…she loved it. She clung to him, breathless with excitement, laughing out loud for sheer joy.

      Halfway through their third circuit he sawAthena.

      And a dog.

      And a child.

      How could it be? How could fate be this cruel?

      Why on earth had she decided to come to a tourist destination this morning?

      Stupid, stupid, stupid.

      They’d been using their ball-thrower. Dogs were supposed to be on leads here, but she knew a place…most dog owners did. So they’d tossed the ball until Oscar was out of puff. Nicky had run more than the dog. Oscar wasn’t the brightest light on the Christmas tree, so about half the time it had been Nicky who’d had to retrieve it. Finally they’d bought ice cream cones and now they were waiting for Oscar to finish his before they walked home.

      Oscar, a big, lumbering bear of canine dopiness, took his ice cream eating seriously.

      A horse and buggy was wheeling briskly along the path towards them. The horses looked gorgeous, she thought. The day was gorgeous, making up for last night’s misery. She was dumb to be anxious on a day like this.

      She chuckled at Oscar’s pink nose.

      The buggy grew closer. The driver raised his crop in salute. It was that sort of day.

      She smiled. She waved back.

      And then she saw who was in the buggy.

      Nikos.

      And a child?

      The sounds around them faded. Everything faded.

      She heard Nikos’s snapped order as if it came from a distance. The buggy stopped. Nikos climbed down, paid the driver and lifted the little girl down after him.

      The child was little and dark and beautifully dressed, in a pink dress with a wide pink bow, white socks edged with pink lace and shiny pink shoes. A pink Alice band held back her glossy black hair. Shoulder-length with bangs.

      Smiling and smiling.

      Down’s syndrome.

      The little girl laughed as Nikos swung her down, and Nikos laughed back.

      Athena’s heart did a back flip. Landed upside down, somewhere else in her chest than where it should be.

      Down’s syndrome…

      Her aunt’s letter came back to her.

       ‘A little girl for Nikos and Marika…’

      ‘Hi,’ she managed, and if her voice came out a squeak she couldn’t help it.

      ‘Hi,’ Nikos said back. He sounded as incredulous as she was—and as wary. The horse and buggy bowled on, leaving Nikos and his daughter on the verge of the path.

      Nikos wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Nicky.

      Nicky, who was the spitting image of his father—a mirror image of the younger Nikos.

      Father…and son.

      She should have…she should have…

      It was too late for should haves. The time was now.

      ‘This is Christa,’ Nikos said at last, and his voice seemed to come from a distance. ‘Christa, this is my friend, Athena.’

      ‘Dog,’ Christa said in Greek, still smiling. Pointing to Oscar. ‘Ice…Ice cream.’

      The ice cream