The Greek's Forbidden Princess

LAMBIS TURNED FROM his computer, catching sight of figures outside.

Amelie and Sébastien, out so early that the snowy peak rising behind them glowed pink and orange.

Intrigued, he shoved his chair from the desk and moved to the window. They were an unlikely pair. The Princess wore waterproof boots that were too big for her and a bulky waterproof jacket he guessed was Anna’s. Seb’s clothes fitted better but the jacket was too long. Where had Anna found the gear?

Amelie led the boy across the pristine white of last night’s fall. Maybe they were out early because she knew the snow wouldn’t last. By this afternoon it would have disappeared. The forecast was for a return to warm weather. Not that they’d be here then.

He needed to get back to his messages. But he stayed where he was, watching.

Amelie talked, waving her arm enthusiastically. Seb said nothing and, though he walked beside her, his shoulders were slumped and his head drooped. He didn’t act like a kid enjoying the first snow of the season. No bounding across the white to leave footprints. He didn’t even bend to make a snowball, much less attempt a snowman.

As if reading Lambis’s thoughts, Amelie dropped to her knees and began scooping the white stuff together in a mound. Her face, pink with cold, was breath-stealingly beautiful. She smiled, talking as she worked, but there was a quality about her smile that spoke of strain.

She gestured, inviting the boy to join in, but he simply stood and watched.

The Princess’s expression froze for a second before she ducked her head, ostensibly concentrating on her task. When she looked up again her smile was as bright as ever.

Yet Lambis felt her pain. His chest clenched around the hurt. She was so stoic, so determined to persevere, even against what looked like hopeless odds.

Her words last evening had kept him awake all night, trying to fathom a way to help them. To help Irini’s child. To ensure Seb wasn’t deprived of his inheritance.

Lambis didn’t have what it took to get through to the boy. All he could do was lavish money on the problem and bring in the best specialists. But she’d already done that.

Which left him helpless and useless.

Lambis folded his arms across his chest, feeling the thunderous crash of his heart against his ribs. Frustration rose.

But that had always been his problem, hadn’t it?

He could look out for himself, he could keep total strangers safe but when it came to those close to him...

A shuddering breath seared his lungs as he fought the gathering blackness.

Outside in the bright light Amelie hid her fear behind that glorious smile.

As Lambis watched, something twisted and broke inside. His breath expelled in a huge rush and he found himself striding for the door.

* * *

‘When we’re done we’ll ask Anna if we can have a carrot for his nose. What do you think?’

Of course, Seb said nothing and Amelie was left to pretend she was having the time of her life, kneeling in the snow while her heart broke a little more.

She’d spent her life hiding feelings behind a charming smile but this was harder than anything she’d ever done. Each day, each hour, was more difficult than the last. She feared soon she wouldn’t be able to do it any more. But if she couldn’t be strong and reassuring for Seb, who would?

Movement 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?