ball. And then she thought, no. No and no and no.
‘You heard what Prince Alexandros said,’ she told the girl, her thoughts eddying and surging, then, like a whirlpool, finding a centre. Enabling her to pull herself together and fight for what she most wanted. ‘Prince Alex said I can take care of Michales until I leave,’ she said. ‘Can you bring me his formula—everything he needs until morning—and let us be?’
‘What—everything?’ the girl said, startled.
‘I mean everything.’
‘But… we have shifts. We change every eight hours. You can’t look after the baby yourself.’
‘Of course I can. A baby should have one carer.’
‘The rules… ’
‘Can start tomorrow,’ Lily said flatly. ‘For today I’m his aunt and I’m caring for him. I’ll feed him and then I’ll take him for a walk in the grounds. I’ll sleep in here with him tonight. Can you let the rest of the staff know I don’t need their help until morning?’
‘They won’t be happy,’ the girl said, dubious.
‘Their job is to follow rules,’ Lily said softly and she gazed out of the window again, but this time she looked towards the sea, where her borrowed boat lay at anchor, gently rising and falling on the swell of the incoming tide.
Dared she?
How could she not?
This boat wasn’t big enough for the journey she had in mind. She’d need help. But then, maybe it was time she called in some favours. What had Mia said? Ben’s rich…
Her sister owed her big time. That debt was being called in, right now.
‘You heard Prince Alexandros,’ she said. ‘I need to leave. Tomorrow the nursery’s yours again, but for today… he’s mine.’
It was well into the small hours before Alex found his bed, but still he woke at dawn. He lay staring up at the ceiling, searching for answers.
Trying not to think about Lily.
Thinking about Lily was the way of madness. His life was complicated enough already. He had to find an escape.
There wasn’t one. He was locked into a monarchy so out of date that the country couldn’t go forward.
And Lily was here.
His head was full already without her. Hell, he had responsibilities everywhere. He was trapped.
But right now all he could think of was Lily. White-faced, big-eyed, thinner than when he’d last seen her. Flinching as he’d said he couldn’t remember their lovemaking.
Maybe he’d been too harsh. Telling her she had to leave.
He had no choice. The islanders were appalled at how her sister had behaved. Lily was, at least outwardly, a less groomed, less glitzy version of Mia. Her clothes were built for practicality rather than glamour, but the islanders would still see her sister in her. She wouldn’t be tolerated.
For years the islanders had dreamed that with Giorgos’s death they’d be able to purchase their homes, their olive groves, their right to moor their fishing boats without paying the exorbitant mooring rents they’d been charged for ever. But with the birth of Michales their hopes had been dashed. And now… For Giorgos to die and for his Queen to walk away leaving such a legacy…
He didn’t blame the islanders for their anger. Rebellion was very close but that’d be a disaster, too. He had to find some way through this mess.
To blame Lily wasn’t fair. He knew that. But then, he thought wryly, life wasn’t fair. He had no choice but to be here, and Lily had no choice but to leave.
Today.
A knock sounded on his door. He hated the servants intruding—in truth he hated the idea of servants—but he had to grow accustomed.
‘Yes?’
‘If you please, Your Highness… ’ It was one of the nursery maids, wide-eyed and big with news.
‘Yes?’
‘The baby’s gone,’ she breathed. ‘I just put my head around the nursery door and he’s gone. And so has Miss Lily. The groundsmen say her boat’s no longer anchored in the cove. She’s taken our baby, sir. She’s taken the Crown Prince.’
IT WAS six long weeks before he found her.
Alex told the islanders he’d given permission for Lily to care for her nephew while Mia decided what to do, but it was a lie. In reality he had a sworn-to-secrecy team working round the clock, making discreet enquiries, searching across the globe.
Finally his enquiries brought up a birth, registered in the United States:
Michales McLachlan, aged five months, son of Lily McLachlan. Reason for not immediately registering the birth: abroad at time of birth and illness after confinement. Father not listed.
She was registering Michales as hers—as a US citizen. Did she think she could get away with it? He was astounded—furious—and, above all, confused.
Was this a ruse so Mia could get her baby back? It didn’t make sense. If Mia wanted him she could have taken him. Yes, Michales was the future King of the Diamond Isles, but that wouldn’t have prevented him from being raised overseas.
He had to stop it. The one hope the people of the Diamond Isles held was that this baby was a new start. As Prince Regent, Alex could ensure this child was raised with a social conscience. Things could get better.
But things couldn’t get better if the baby wasn’t on the island where he could influence his upbring.
What the hell was Lily doing? Where was she? And where was the baby?
Mia and her new consort were in Dubai, living the high life.
Lily and Michales were nowhere.
And then he had a call from one of his… researchers.
‘Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s returning to the States by boat,’ the man told him. ‘The Nahid belongs to a corporation owned by Ben Merhdad, the guy Queen Mia’s living with. It’s due to dock in Maine on Saturday.’
So here he was, in Maine, on the dock, with two of his men plus an immigration official he’d briefed. It’d solve everything if this baby was never permitted legal entry to the United States.
Two minutes before its designated arrival, a magnificent yacht nosed its way into the harbour.
To his astonishment, Lily was making no attempt to hide. She was standing on deck, wearing faded jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Her hair was wrapped in another crazy scarf—a silk confection. Gorgeous.
She was holding a baby.
There was an audible gasp from the guys around him. ‘She’s not even hiding him,’ someone said.
‘She’s registered the baby as hers,’ the immigration official said uneasily. ‘She must think she can get away with it.’
‘What the hell’s she playing at?’ Alex growled.
She’d seen him now. Incredibly, she gave him a cheery smile and a wave. She looked like a woman who’d just returned from a pleasure cruise.
She looked… lovely.
Or not. He gave himself a sharp mental swipe to the side of the head. Remember this woman’s like her sister. Lovely is surface deep, he told himself. What’s inside is selfish, greedy and shallow.
Testosterone was not what was needed.
What was