‘Not yet. I need to read through the research papers for the period of your grandfather’s life I’m covering.’
He inclined his head and straightened. ‘I shall leave you to it. I’ll be back later if you find you have any questions for me.’
She forced a smile in acknowledgement, but the second she was alone she dropped her head onto the desk and closed her eyes.
Barely five minutes in his company and now not a single part of her felt right, as if being with him had caused her entire body to turn itself inside out.
She would have to find a way to manage it.
With grim determination she forced her attention to the piles of research papers before her.
The work Fiona had done on the biography had made for compelling reading.
King Astraeus had led a fascinating life, one filled with glory and honour. While many men of his nation had fought for the allies in the war—his brother among them—the then Prince Astraeus had led the defence of his own island. When a battalion of naval ships had approached the island with the intention to occupy it, Astraeus had led the counterattack. The fleet had been obliterated before it had reached the shore.
No other enemy ship had attempted to land on Agon since.
That would have been impressive on its own, but only the day before Astraeus had been given the news that his only brother had been killed in action.
This was Jo’s son’s heritage—a family that led from the front and who were all prepared to put their lives on the line to defend their home and their people.
A powerful family. And in it fitted Theseus—the father of her son.
The chapter Fiona had finished just before being taken ill detailed the death of Astraeus’s only son and daughter-in-law in a tragic car crash twenty-six years ago. Theseus’s parents. He’d been nine years old. So very young.
Her heart cracked a little to imagine what he must have gone through.
But that had been a long time ago, she reminded herself. Theseus the child had no bearing on Theseus the adult. She could not allow sympathy to lower her guard. Until she knew the real Theseus she couldn’t afford to lower it for one second.
* * *
Theseus put his phone down. He could hear the soft rustle of papers being turned in the adjoining office.
When Fiona had worked on the biography he’d hardly been aware of her. Other than the times when she would ask him questions, she might not have existed. Fiona using that office hadn’t interrupted the flow of his own work.
As the financial figurehead of the Kalliakis Investment Company, and with his newer role of overseeing the palace accounts, which his grandfather had finally agreed to a year ago, he had plenty to keep his brain occupied.
In his childhood he’d dreamed of being an astronaut, of flying through the universe exploring new planets and solar systems. Astronauts had to be good with numbers, and he’d practised his arithmetic with a zeal that had astounded his tutor.
He could still remember one of the rare occasions when his father had come into Theseus’s bedroom, mere months before he’d died. He’d looked at the star charts and pictures of rockets that had filled the walls and told him to rid his mind of such nonsense. A Kalliakis prince could never be an astronaut.
Even now Theseus would stare up at the night sky and be filled with longing.
He could have done it. He had the talent and the enthusiasm. He was fit, healthy and active.
But it could never be.
Now he used his talents, if not his enthusiasm, for financial reports. At least when he was going through the accounts he didn’t have to put on a face and make small talk; didn’t have to remember he was an ambassador for his family and his island.
So he kept himself busy. Too much time on his hands left his mind free to wander, to dream, to imagine what if...?
Today, though, the woman next door with hair like autumn leaves kept intruding. And she hadn’t made so much as a peep of noise.
He couldn’t get over how damned sexy she’d become. Even now, wearing nothing but charcoal three-quarter-length leggings, and a plain long-sleeved tunic-style black top that made her hair appear even more vibrant, she exuded a beguiling allure.
It had been a long time since he’d experienced such a primitive reaction to a woman.
Five years, to be exact.
His return to Agon from his sabbatical had been a turning point for him. Battling grief for his grandmother and ugly home truths from his grandfather, he’d known it was time to stop fighting. He would never be free. Sitting on the summit of Aconcagua in Argentina, the highest point in the Southern Hemisphere, was the closest he would ever get to the stars.
It had been time to accept his destiny.
He had decided he would curb his pleasure-seeking and throw himself into palace life. His grandfather had already been an old man. Helios had taken on many of his duties. It had been time for Theseus to take his share of them and relieve the burden.
He had been determined to prove to his grandfather that the Kalliakis name did mean something to him and had spent the years since his sabbatical doing exactly that—throwing himself into palace life and royal duties. In that time his appetite for sex had diminished to nothing, which suited him perfectly. Women who would usually turn his head had elicited minimal reaction. Neither his heart not his libido had been in it.
Now, for the first time in years, he felt the thrill of the chase coiling in his veins and cursed that such feelings should be unleashed.
Jo might be walking temptation, but there was no place in his life for desire. His next relationship would be with the woman he made his wife, even if he did intend on putting off the moment for as long as he could.
He stepped away from his desk and crossed the threshold into the adjoining office.
‘How are you getting on?’
She didn’t respond.
He was about to repeat his question but then saw she had earphones in.
She must have sensed his presence, for she turned her head and pulled them out.
‘I will be leaving the palace shortly. Is there anything you need to talk to me about?’
‘Not yet. I’m still going through the research papers and making notes on anything I feel could be relevant. As so many aspects are connected I think it will be best if we sit down and discuss it all when I’m done.’
‘Will that not eat into your writing time?’
‘It will make it easier—it means it will be solid in my head and I’ll be in a position to work through it all without having to stop and interrupt you every five minutes. I’ll probably still have further questions, but they will be far fewer this way.’
‘I’m hosting a function for a delegation of French businessmen today, and I have a dinner at the US Embassy to attend this evening, but I can clear most of my diary for the next few days so I’ll be available when you’re ready.’
‘That would be good, thank you,’ she answered with a brief smile, her brilliant blue-grey eyes meeting his. She looked away, casting her gaze to her desk, then back up to him. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’ So long as it wasn’t about Illya. He refused to give headspace to memories from that time.
‘Your grandfather’s ill, isn’t he?’
‘How do you know that?’ he asked, taken aback.