The Greek's Forbidden Princess. Annie West

caught her eye. It was Lambis, immensely tall and broad-shouldered, rounding the corner of the house. He wore boots, a black pullover and black jeans. With the golden light catching his bold, unsmiling features, he could have been the god of the mountain, marching down to see who’d invaded his territory.

      Amelie’s heart gave a little leap and she looked away, concentrating on getting more snow for her rather pathetic snowman.

      One day she wouldn’t feel this automatic spark of attraction, the infinitesimal catch to her breath when she saw him.

      That day couldn’t come soon enough.

      When she looked up Lambis had stopped. His attention wasn’t on her, but on Seb, and there was something about that hard, handsome face that made her still.

      It wasn’t brooding anger or disapproval. It looked like desolation.

      Amelie recognised it because it was how she’d felt when her mother died, and again after losing Michel and Irini. And this morning, waking to the knowledge there was no one to help her help Seb. That the chance of bringing him back from wherever he was, in time for the royal proclamation ceremony, was almost nil.

      She looked at Lambis’s still face and fought to make sense of what she saw. He looked...haunted, his mouth a twist that tugged at something deep within.

      Instinct urged her to go to him and find out what had triggered his anguish. To comfort him. But the memory of his words last night stopped her.

      It’s what you do! That was what he’d said.

      It was true. She was a nurturer, a carer, yet he’d made it sound like a terrible weakness.

      She’d do anything for the people she loved. She’d supported her family and her people all her life. She believed in love. Yet the only times she’d reached out for love, she’d been rejected. Years ago the man she’d wanted to marry had abandoned her, frightened off by her father. The second time it had been this man, Lambis Evangelos, telling her he wanted nothing to do with her.

      Well, he could whistle for sympathy. She was not wasting her emotions on him!

      ‘A snowman, eh? Not a bad effort considering there’s very little snow.’ His voice startled her. It held a hint of warmth that reminded her of the man she’d once believed she’d known, years ago in St Galla.

      Amelie sucked in a breath of frigid air and let it out as Lambis hunkered beside her and added a clump of snow to her lopsided construction.

      ‘You’re out of practice, Princess. Obviously you don’t get enough snow on St Galla.’ He glanced at Seb, drawing him silently into the conversation, but didn’t wait for a response. Instead he reached out his long arms and gathered more snow in one scoop than she’d managed in four, adding it to the now rotund snowman.

      And just like that the pent-up fury inside Amelie dissipated.

      She couldn’t forgive Lambis his refusal to help. But for this moment he was an ally. For a few precious moments, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders as Lambis talked about the deep snows of winter. Lambis, the man who could be taciturn to the point of absolute silence.

      Amelie sank back on her heels, brushing back a stray strand of hair with a horribly shaky hand. This morning she’d felt alarmingly close to breaking point, her emotions too near the surface. For weeks there’d been no one to share her worries about Seb except Enide, the elderly cousin who’d moved into the palace to support them when Michel and Irini died.

      Dear Enide. She was the only one Amelie had trusted with the truth about this trip, though Enide didn’t know exactly where Amelie was so she didn’t have to lie if questioned. She was back in St Galla holding the fort, presiding over the few minor royal events that couldn’t be cancelled while Amelie and Seb took their ‘private holiday’. The major event, a gala celebration with the King of Bengaria, was being rescheduled to next month.

      ‘There, that’s better.’

      Amelie watched in amazement as Lambis plucked two pebbles from the ground, uncovered by their scrapings, and pressed them into the snowman’s face, creating eyes.

      Was this the same man who’d rejected her and Seb last night?

      ‘Very fetching,’ she murmured.

      She glanced at her nephew. His attention was on the little, icy man they’d made. But there was no glow of appreciation or even interest in his expression. Just that blankness that terrified her.

      Beside her Lambis rose to his vast, imposing height in one quick movement and Seb started. He didn’t precisely shrink back, but he stiffened. So did Lambis. Amelie felt the tension in his big frame, felt it in his utter stillness. Seb was nervous of Lambis, but Lambis was just as wary of him.

      What had she expected? That Lambis would bond with the boy over a game in the snow and change his mind about helping?

      Grumpy with herself because that was exactly what she’d hoped, Amelie got to her feet and shepherded Seb towards the house.

      ‘Come on, Seb. It’s breakfast time. I’m sure Anna’s got something nice for us to eat.’

      Lambis’s voice followed them. ‘Then you can pack. I’ve organised a place for you to stay where you’ll be comfortable and private. Somewhere less wintry.’

      He couldn’t wait to be rid of them, could he?

      Amelie halted, hackles rising despite her attempt to stay calm. But it seemed she’d shed that ability last night.

      What was it about Lambis Evangelos that made her feel so different? Unlike the controlled, careful woman she’d been for twenty-nine years? Every fine hair on her arms and the back of her neck prickled.

      The man was immovable. She should walk away, not let him see how his rejection hurt.

      Instead, Amelie discovered she really had reached breaking point. There was no other explanation for the instinct that made her, quick as thought, bend and scoop up a handful of snow. She packed it into a hard ball, then spun round and lobbed it straight at the tall figure behind her.

      For the first time she could recall, Amelie had no thought for good manners or appropriate royal behaviour—things that had been drummed into her from birth. Only for the need to wipe the satisfaction off her tormentor’s face.

      Snow exploded on his chin, showering him in white.

      For a second, not quite believing she’d done it, Amelie stared, her eyes widening. Then, as he spat out snow, she couldn’t prevent the laugh that bubbled up and escaped her frozen lips. A laugh of shock and delight. If she’d aimed properly she couldn’t have done better. He looked as astonished as her.

      Amazing how good that felt!

      To act recklessly. To attack instead of taking her disappointment like a proper princess, always gracious and polite.

      Amelie felt a rogue ripple of power through her chest and right down her spine. After the tension and worry of the last weeks it was marvellous.

      She was still smiling when Lambis bent, shovelling up a massive handful of snow, shaping and throwing it all in one fluid movement.

      It thudded into her arm, raised protectively in front of her face. Without stopping to consider where this would lead, Amelie scrabbled up another handful of snow, compacting it. She pitched it just as another massive snowball hit her shoulder, disintegrating in a starburst of white that blurred her vision.

      Amelie couldn’t catch her breath. It came in choppy little gasps of searing cold as she bent and reached for more snow. It took a second to realise it was laughter choking her airways, a hoarse chuckle that melded amusement with the rush of pent-up emotions, suddenly let loose. Her pulse was hectic, out of control, and satisfaction sung in her veins as she got Lambis square on the chest, white slamming into his black pullover.

      Then his lob caught her full on the face.

      The shock of it made