Marrying His Majesty. Marion Lennox

      ‘You look like the Queen,’ the girl said, and it took all her control to stop herself flinching.

      ‘I’m sure I don’t.’

      ‘You’re not related?’

      She made herself smile. ‘How could you think that?’ she managed. ‘Queen Mia is so glamorous.’

      ‘But she’s abandoned her baby,’ the reporter whispered, distracted from Alex’s romantic background and filled with indignation for a more recent scandal. ‘Can you imagine? The King dies and Mia walks away with one of the world’s richest men. Leaving her baby.’

      Her baby. Her baby!

      But still the girl was staring. She had to deflect the attention somehow. ‘I’m here in an official capacity,’ she told the reporter bluntly, in a voice that said no more questions.

      She fingered the gilt invitation in her jacket pocket. When she’d arrived—in those first few dreadful minutes when she’d realised what Mia had done—she’d half expected to be turned away. But Mia had invited her and apparently she was still on the official guest list. Alex had probably long forgotten her existence. Her papers were in order. Her invitation was real. There was no problem.

      Ha! There were problems everywhere. Where to go from here?

      A trumpet was sounding alone now, a glorious blaze of sound that had the congregation on their feet, applauding the new Prince Regent. Prince Alexandros of the Diamond Isles swept down the aisle, looking every inch a monarch, every inch a royal. Looking worlds away from the Alex she’d fallen in love with.

      He was smiling, glancing from side to side as he passed, making eye contact with everyone.

      He’d be a much better ruler than the old King, Lily thought, feeling dazed. He’d be a man of the people. Others were clapping and so did she.

      His gaze swept past her—and stopped. There was a flicker of recognition.

      His smile faded.

      She closed her eyes.

      When she opened them he’d passed, but once again the reporter looked at her, her face alive with curiosity.

      ‘He knew you,’ she breathed.

      ‘I’ve met him… once.’

      ‘Excuse me, but he looked like he hated you,’ the girl said.

      ‘Well, that would be a nonsense,’ Lily managed. ‘He hardly knows me and I hardly know him. Now, if you’ll excuse me… ’

      She turned her back on the girl and joined the slow procession out into the morning sunshine. Only she knew how hard it was to walk. Only she knew her knees had turned to jelly.

      She was here for her baby, but all she wanted was to run.

      What the hell was she doing here?

      Alex shook one hand after another, so many hands his arms ached. His smile stayed pinned in place by sheer willpower. Would this day never end?

      And what was Lily doing here?

      He’d met her once, for two days only. For a short, sweet time he’d thought it could be different. It could be… something. But then she’d left without goodbyes, slipping away in the pre-dawn light and catching the ferry to Athens before he’d woken.

      It hadn’t stopped him looking for her—up and down the Eastern seaboard of the United States, searching for the sister of the Queen, who he’d been told was a boat-builder.

      He hardly believed the boat-builder bit. When he’d asked Mia she’d simply shrugged. ‘My parents separated. I went with my mother, but Lily chose to stay with my father, so I’ve barely seen her since childhood. Her whereabouts and what she does is therefore not my concern. I don’t see why it should be yours.’

      Undeterred, he’d kept searching. He’d finally found her employer—an elderly Greek boat-builder based in Maine, who’d eyed him up and down and decided to be honest.

      ‘Yes, I employ Lily, but she won’t thank me for admitting she’s the Queen’s sister. No one here knows the connection except my family. And, as for telling you where she is… In honesty, my friend, I don’t know. She left here a month ago, pleading ill health. She gets headaches—bad ones—and they’re getting worse. We told her to take a break, get healthy and come back to us. My wife is worried about her. We’re keeping her apartment over our yard because we value her, but for now… she’s gone and we don’t know where.’

      So he’d been left—again—with the searing sense of loss that was grief. He’d lost his father when he was five and the old King had torn him from his mother. When finally he’d been old enough to make choices for himself, he’d been reunited with his mother, only to have her die as well.

      He’d been gutted. The old King’s cruelty cut deep. He’d sworn at his mother’s graveside not to get attached again. He’d sworn to have as little as possible to do with royalty.

      But somehow the Queen’s sister had slipped under his defences.

      While they’d made love… while they’d talked and laughed into the night… while he’d held her close and listened to her heartbeat… while he’d felt the wonder of their bodies merging as if they were one… it had seemed then as if she was falling for him as hard as he was falling for her. But in the end, for Lily, it must have been a mere one-night stand. Like her sister, was she just after scalps?

      The memory of his useless vow had slammed back, mocking him.

      Then she’d phoned.

      He’d been back in Manhattan, getting on with his life. It had been mid-morning. He’d just fielded a stressful call. He’d still been feeling irritated that Lily so obviously hadn’t wanted to be found. He’d been caught off guard and he’d made a stupid joke.

      Okay, it had been the wrong thing to joke about. It had been crude, but she hadn’t given him a chance to apologise. She’d cut the connection. That had been that.

      He’d never wanted to fall for her in the first place. Dammit, he did not want to get emotionally involved, especially with someone connected to Mia.

      Somehow she’d breached his defences, but that was a mistake. His defences had to get stronger.

      So now, for her to turn up here, today…

      He was doing all the right things, saying the right things, moving through the crowd with practised ease, but all the time he was looking out for her. A woman dressed in a drab black suit with a crazy scarf…

      ‘Hey, Alex, look at you.’ It was Nikos, and Stefanos was right behind him. As a kid, these two had been his best friends. Stefanos was from Khryseis, Nikos was from Argyros.

      ‘When we grow up we’ll rule the islands together,’ they’d declared. Even as teenagers, they’d dreamed.

      Once upon a time the Diamond Isles had been ruled as three principalities; Sappheiros, Khryseis and Argyros—the Isles of Sapphire, Gold and Silver. Then, two hundred years back, the Crown Prince of Sappheiros had invaded his neighbours. He’d taken control and rewritten the constitution. For as long as he had a direct male heir, the islands would be ruled as one kingdom.

      For generations, successive kings had bled the islands dry. Finally came Giorgos, a weak excuse for a monarch. He also had no interest in women, and for years it appeared he’d be the last of the direct line. The islanders had held their collective breath.

      Alex and Nikos and Stefanos had held their breath.

      Alex had stood to inherit the crown of Sappheiros—as Giorgos’s nephew and legitimate heir. Stefanos stood one step back from inheriting the Isle of Khryseis, and Nikos might as well be ruler of Argyros. They were strong men with a common purpose. When the old King died, when the islands reverted to being independent nations, they’d rebuild their economies, they’d