An Heir For The Prince. Rebecca Winters

a lot of the time she was ill with a bad heart and the nanny had to take over. I took charge in the evenings after my work, but I hadn’t been truly alarmed about Zoe until two weeks ago when I had to withdraw her from preschool. As I told you earlier, I’d assumed that being a premature baby, she simply hadn’t caught up yet.”

      “Has she had her normal checkup with the pediatrician?”

      “Yes.”

      “No heart problem with her.”

      He shook his dark head. “I even took her to my own internist for a second opinion. Neither doctor found anything physically wrong with her, but they gave me the name of a child psychiatrist to find out if something else is going on to make her behind in her speech. Before I did that, I decided to take Dr. Wyman’s advice. He recommended I take her to the Stillman Institute for a diagnosis before doing anything else.”

      “I see. What kind of behavior does she manifest?”

      “When it comes time for her lessons lately, Zoe has tantrums and cries hysterically. All she wants to do is hide in her bed or run to her great-grandmother’s suite for comfort.”

      “What about her appetite?”

      This morning Zoe had taken only a few nibbles of her breakfast, another thing that had alarmed him. “Not what it should be.”

      She studied his features as if she were trying to see inside him. “You must be frantic.”

      Frantic? “Yes,” he murmured. That was the perfect word to describe his state of mind. Mrs. Richards was very astute, but unlike everyone else in his presence except the queen and Stasio, she spoke her mind.

      “Imagine your daughter feeling that same kind of emotion and then times it by a hundred.”

      Alex blinked. This woman’s observation brought it home that she might just know what she was talking about. While he was deep in contemplation, his daughter appeared, clinging to Sofia’s hand. Hector slipped in behind them.

      “Zoe?” Alex said in English. “Come forward.” She took a tentative step. “This is Mrs. Richards. She’s come all the way from New York to see you. Can you say hello to her?”

      His daughter took one look at their guest and her face crumpled in pain. He knew that look. She was ready for flight. With his stomach muscles clenched, he switched to Greek and asked her the same question. This time Zoe’s response was to say she wanted her yiayia, then she burst into tears and ran out of the room. Sofia darted after her.

      Alex called her back and started for the door, but Mrs. Richards unexpectedly said, “Let her go.”

      Her countermand surprised him. Except for his own deceased father, no one had ever challenged him like that, let alone about his own daughter. It was as if their positions had been reversed and she was giving the orders. The strange irony set his teeth on edge.

      “She probably assumes I’m her new nanny,” she added in a gentler tone. “I don’t blame her for running away. I can see she’s at her wit’s end. The first thing I’d like you to do is get her in to an ear, nose and throat specialist followed up by an audiologist.”

      He frowned, having to tamp down his temper. “As I told you a minute ago, Zoe has already been given two checkups.”

      “Not that kind of exam,” she came back, always keeping her voice controlled. “A child or an adult with speech problems could have extra wax buildup not noticeable with a normal check-up because it’s deep inside. It’s not either doctor’s fault. They’re not specialists in this area. If there’s nothing wrong with her ears and I can’t help her, then your daughter needs to see a child psychiatrist to find out why she’s regressing.

      “For now let’s find out if more wax than normal has accumulated recently. If so, it must be cleaned out to help improve her hearing. Otherwise sounds could be blocked or distorted, preventing her from mimicking them.”

      “Why would there be an abnormal amount of wax?”

      “Does she get earaches very often?”

      “A few every year.”

      “It’s possible her ear canals are no longer draining as they should.”

      That made sense. His hands formed fists. Why hadn’t he thought of it?

      Her well-shaped brows lifted. “Not even a prince can know everything.” She’d read his mind and her comment sent his blood pressure soaring. “Will you arrange it? Sooner would be better than later because I can’t get started on my testing until the procedure has been done. That child needs help in a hurry.”

      As if Alex didn’t know … Why else had he sent for her?

      He didn’t like feeling guilty because he’d let the problem go on too long without exploring every avenue. Alex also didn’t like being second-guessed or told what to do. But since it was Zoe they were talking about, he decided to let it go for now. “I’ll see that a specialist fits her in today.”

      “Good. Let me know the results and we’ll go from there.” She turned to leave.

      “I haven’t excused you yet, Mrs. Richards.”

      She wheeled back around. “Forgive me, and please call me Dottie.” Through the fringe of her dark, silky lashes, her innocent blue gaze eyed him frankly. “I’ve never worked with a parent who’s a monarch. This is a new experience.”

      Indeed, it was. It appeared Alex was an acquired taste, something he hadn’t known could happen. He wasn’t a conceited man, but it begged the question whether she had an instant dislike of him.

      “Monarch or not, do you always walk away from a conversation before it’s over?”

      “I thought it was.” She stood firm. “I deal with preschoolers all the time and your little girl is so adorable, I’m hoping to get to the bottom of her problem right away. I’m afraid I’m too focused on my job. Your Highness,” she tacked on, as if she weren’t sure whether to say it or not.

      She was different from anyone he’d ever met. Not rude exactly, yet definitely the opposite of obsequious. He didn’t know what to think of her. But just now she’d sounded sincere enough where his daughter was concerned. Alex needed to take the advice his mother had given him as a boy. Never react on a first impression or you could live to regret it.

      “I’m glad you’re focused,” he said and meant it. “She’s the light of my life.”

      The briefest glint of pain entered her eyes. “You’re a lucky man to have her, even if you are a prince.”

      His brows furrowed. “Even if I’m a prince?”

      She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I meant—Well, I meant that one assumes a prince has been given everything in life and is very lucky. But to be the father of a darling daughter, too, makes you that much luckier.”

      Though she smiled, he heard a sadness in her words. Long after he’d excused her and had arranged for the doctor’s appointment, the shadow he’d seen in those deep blue eyes stayed with him.

       CHAPTER TWO

      DOTTIE stayed in her room for part of the day, fussing and fuming over a situation she could do little about. I haven’t excused you yet, Mrs. Richards.

      The mild rebuke had fallen from the lips of a prince who was outrageously handsome. Tall and built like the statue of a Greek god, he possessed the inky-black hair and eyes of his Hellenican ancestry. Everything—his chiseled jaw, his strong male features—set him apart from other men.

      Even if he weren’t royal, he looked like any woman’s idea of a prince. He’d stood there in front of his country’s flag, effortlessly masculine