The Greek's Forbidden Princess Page 7

  Lambis gave it all unstintingly, wrapped little Seb close, rocking him like a father would, ensuring he felt safe, even if he couldn’t change the terrible tragedy that had orphaned her nephew.

  Amelie’s heart clenched, her mouth crumpled. Her whole being wobbled.

  Even as gratitude welled for what he was doing, other emotions struck. She wanted to be held like that. She wanted someone to care for her as Lambis did now for Seb.

  Not to tell her everything would be okay, for of course it could never be as it was. But to assure her that, just for a little while, she wasn’t alone. That she had someone to share her burdens.

  She blinked and made a conscious effort to cut loose that yearning. It was made immeasurably more difficult by the sight and sound of the man she’d once begun to love consoling her darling nephew.

  In other circumstances—

  No! She wasn’t going there again.

  She was made of stronger stuff.

  She stepped forward, her shadow covering Lambis, and he tilted his head back. His eyes met hers, dark as a thunderstorm and cloudy with emotion. That emotion was a punch to her lungs. She’d never seen Lambis so...adrift.

  Even as she thought it, he gathered himself. His gaze grew focused. He sat straighter, switching to English, and her fleeting sense of seeing the real man behind all that machismo faded.

  ‘Look who’s here, Sébastien. Your Aunt Lili. Didn’t I tell you she’d be along soon?’

  Seb’s lack of response didn’t faze him, but Amelie’s blood ran cold as she saw her nephew’s face. His skin was awash with tears, his eyes red and swollen.

  ‘Seb. Darling.’ She dropped to her knees, leaning in to cup his wet cheek, to smooth her unsteady hand across his bright gilt hair. ‘Did the boat scare you?’

  He let out a long, shuddering sigh, then, to Amelie’s astonishment, nodded.

  It was the smallest of movements but unmistakable. Her heart fluttered and long-dormant hope stirred. Her gaze lifted to Lambis’s, so close, she realised, that his breath feathered her cheek. The heat of his big body encircled her as she leaned in to Seb.

  Everything inside Amelie stilled, slowed. She became conscious of the minutest details. Of the long sooty lashes half lowered over Lambis’s eyes, of the fine grain of his dark-toned skin and the shadow of stubble accentuating the hard angles of his jaw.

  Sucking in a breath heady with male spice and the sea, she snapped her attention back to Seb. He was blinking, knuckling a hand to his eye, and love clenched her chest.

  She’d do anything for her nephew. Whatever it took to secure his future. Even...

  Not now. The future could wait. What mattered was making sure he was okay.

  ‘Everything’s going to be all right. You’re safe here with me and Lambis.’ She pinned on a smile. ‘How about we go inside for breakfast?’ She reached for him, but Lambis shook his head and she froze, abruptly aware that the backs of her hands touched his hot flesh where he encircled Seb. Belatedly she withdrew. Her skin prickled as if singed.

  ‘I’ll carry him. Okay, Seb?’

  To Amelie’s amazement, her nephew tilted his head again. It was what she’d hoped and prayed for. Some sign of life. Yet the reality of it was like a knife cutting too close to the fears she’d hidden since the accident.

  It must be relief making her feel...odd. She sank back on her heels, blinking, overwhelmed, almost smothered by rising emotions.

  ‘Amelie? Are you all right?’ There it was again, that husky, beautiful cadence. Like a caress.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Of course.’ It was stupid to feel overcome. She should be celebrating.

  For too long she’d feared Seb might always live in that grey half world, separated from the rest of them. She’d been strong when he was stricken and silent. She needed to be strong now.

  Her legs were stiff as she stood, and her smile felt as if it cracked her face. ‘Let’s all go inside and eat.’ She didn’t look at Lambis, confirming his agreement. After this he couldn’t, surely, make his excuses and leave.

  ‘That sounds like a fine idea. Swimming always gives me an appetite.’ With an easy, athletic grace, Lambis rose to his feet, Seb safe in his arms, and turned towards the house.

  Amelie followed, her gaze on his broad-shouldered frame. Every step revealed the clench and release of powerful muscles, of a raw, unvarnished masculinity that wasn’t just about size and physical strength. It came from his absolute confidence and self-assurance.

  Despite a lifetime’s lessons in relying on no one but herself, in being the rock around which everyone else found safe anchor, Amelie found that incredibly attractive.

  She paused and drew a deep breath.

  No matter how strong, how appealing, Lambis wasn’t for her. All that mattered was Seb and his happiness.

  * * *

  Amelie paused in the doorway of Lambis’s study. Sunlight streamed in, lighting the vast desk, almost empty but for a computer screen and a phone. Clearly he was a man who preferred organisation to clutter. No doubt he managed his work demands with ruthless efficiency.

  Her thoughts strayed to the decisive way he’d squashed her dreams years ago. He’d cut her off quickly, ending her tentative hopes and leaving no lingering doubts. Kinder, she supposed, than letting her wonder if he’d change his mind.

  Amelie blinked and tore her gaze from the dark head of unruly hair that made her want to reach out and run her fingers through it.

  He had his back to her, talking on the phone in Greek as he surveyed the view. Which gave her time to take in the rest of the room. It was simple, almost spare. Plain white walls and marble floor. Two jewel-toned icons glowed with an inner fire on the wall furthest from the wall of glass that looked over the bay. Beautiful as they were, the paintings didn’t compare with the mother and child she’d seen in his mountain home. On another wall was a spectacular photograph of a sheer mountain top, with a tiny figure in bright climbing clothes, clinging to rock. Amelie felt dizzy just looking at it.

  She stepped into the room and Lambis stilled. Moments later, his call ended, he swung round.

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt.’ Her voice was too light, almost breathless, and she swallowed, determined to see this through. ‘But I need to thank you for this morning.’

  Lambis stood and instantly she felt at a disadvantage. Even from beyond the desk he towered over her. Worse was the difficulty she had stopping her gaze from straying over that powerful, muscular body she’d seen in all its glory a few hours before.

  How many times had she berated herself for noticing? It was worse now, for she’d seen the tenderness he was capable of and it had evoked long-buried memories of the summer he’d spent in St Galla and the feelings she’d once harboured.

  ‘There’s no need for thanks. I did what anyone would have done.’ His tone was brusque and his brow furrowed. Yesterday she wouldn’t have looked beyond that. Now she wondered.

  ‘Perhaps. But I’m grateful you were there. Seb was sound asleep, or so I thought, when I went to shower. I know you value your privacy, so I’ve made sure we wait till you’ve finished your swim to go outside.’

  Lambis’s frown became a scowl. ‘You kept him indoors for that?’

  Amelie shrugged. He was the one who’d made it clear he didn’t want their company. He saw them only when they shared the brief midday meal. ‘It seemed easiest.’

  He raised his hand and forked it back through that shaggy mop of sable hair. No one else Amelie knew wore their hair like that. Her acquaintances prided themselves on their appearance, or made an effort to conform when meeting royalty. Lambis looked like he didn’t give a damn how it looked or what anyone thought. Yet it suited him. That and his still unshaven chin made him look like a marauder, a pirate. The sort of man who’d dare anything.

  ‘Is that you?’ She turned to the breathtaking photo of the climber.

  ‘No. I’m not interested in photos of myself.’ Something kindled in his gaze. ‘I took the shot from the
next peak up.’

  So she’d been right. He was an adventurer. But not, she guessed, in business. There he was all about risk management, as she knew from the recommendations he’d made for royal security in St Galla.

  ‘Was there anything else?’

  Amelie stiffened. Had she really expected this morning would change things?

  ‘I’d hoped to persuade you to share dinner with me so we could talk.’ Amelie paused but there was no change in his expression. She hated the feeling she was a supplicant, seeking his favour.

  ‘But that doesn’t matter.’ Might as well get this off her chest. Delaying would only make it more difficult. ‘Mainly I wanted to apologise.’ Amelie stood straight, meeting his gaze with all the outward calm a lifetime’s practice could muster.

  ‘You don’t owe me an apology.’ The scowl became positively thunderous. Yet, contrarily, all that did was emphasise the strong planes of his bold features. Even grumpy, Lambis fascinated her.

  ‘I do.’ She stepped forward then stopped. He wouldn’t appreciate her invading his space. He was putting out enough keep away vibes to power an electric fence. She hadn’t missed the way his chin hitched at her approach or the curl of his hands.

  Something thudded through her. Did he dislike her so very much? But Amelie was too proud to dwell on that.

  ‘I accused you of not caring. I believed you hadn’t loved Irini as she did you, and that Seb meant nothing.’ His features were so still they could have been cast in bronze.

  Amelie shook her head. ‘For that I’m sorry. I was wrong.’ She swallowed hard, her throat tight, and made herself continue. ‘Your reasons for protecting your privacy are your own, but what I saw on the beach...that wasn’t simply what anyone would have done. That was love.’

  She hefted a breath and heard her words echo in the silence. It wasn’t a welcoming silence. It vibrated with the tension emanating from the man before her.

  ‘You care about Seb deeply and I apologise for questioning that.’ Even if she had to bite her lip from asking what made Lambis try to keep the boy at a distance. ‘You helped Seb when it mattered. Everything else is unimportant.’

  She met his hard stare, wondering what was going on behind the dour expression. But what was the point? ‘I also wanted to ask if Seb could spend a little more time with you.’ Asking was difficult but Seb’s wellbeing was more important than pride. ‘This morning was a huge turning point for him and I don’t want—’

  * * *

  ‘I understand. You’re hoping to encourage more change in him.’ Lambis saw it in her eyes, blazing with hope.

  Her tentative smile tugged at him, made him uncomfortable.

  ‘Don’t read too much into what happened this morning.’ Lambis felt his frown deepen. ‘I’m no miracle cure.’

  The idea was laughable. Deliberately his tone was harsh, covering the fact he didn’t feel nearly as sure about things now as he had before. Where before there was certainty, now there was confusion.

  These last few hours he’d felt emotions, yearnings he’d long ago emptied from his life. The feel of little Sébastien, clinging so needily in his arms. The look on Amelie’s face, her gratitude when she’d found him cradling the boy, her touch as she’d burrowed into his embrace to comfort her nephew...

  Tangled feelings enmeshed Lambis. Whichever direction he moved, whatever he did, they were waiting to tighten and knot around him. His breathing quickened.

  ‘But you won’t back away from him now?’ There was real fear in her fine eyes.

  Lambis felt the weight of her hope like a yoke across his shoulders. But how could he pull back now? This morning he’d simply been the one on the spot when Sébastien reacted. Yet he hesitated to say that. Stress had worn at Amelie, though she’d tried to conceal it. Pain circled his belly at the idea of her shouldering this burden alone.

  He let go a long, slow breath and rolled his shoulders. ‘I’ll help if I can.’ He forced the words through stiff lips.

  His word was his bond and now there was no escape.

  It was almost worth it to see the blaze of pleasure turn Amelie’s face from beautiful to incandescent.

  ‘Thank you, Lambis.’ She opened her mouth as if to say more, then instead nodded and left the room.

  Lambis watched her go, knowing he was doomed to disappoint her. That was his curse.

  He’d inadvertently been responsible for his mother’s death in childbirth.

  Because of him, his wife and child had died before their time.

  Just this year, he’d failed to keep Irini and her husband safe.

  He wore guilt like a badge only he could see. Yet Amelie, sweet, caring, indomitable Amelie, believed him a protector, a saviour.

  The worst of it was, he didn’t have the heart to disabuse her because all his battling had been in vain. Years of self-denial and distance hadn’t succeeded in banishing his feelings for her, though he’d tried, for her sake.

  He cared for her.

  Wanted her.

  Desired her.

  He feared he didn’t have the strength to hold back any longer.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  AMELIE SMOOTHED THE fabric of her bronze-green dress with a hand that was a little clammy. She was not nervous to be sharing dinner with Lambis now Seb was asleep. It was just that the invitation was...unexpected.

  As had been Lambis’s arrival at the pool this afternoon. She and Seb had been in the shade of a huge awning, Amelie reading a story out loud and Seb curled against her. When Lambis appeared, striding out of the house in nothing but black swim shorts, her heart had thundered out of control and stayed that way as he sauntered across the flagstones.

  His size and overt masculinity were almost daunting. His aura of barely contained power and raw edginess hinted at something wild and untamed beneath all that control.

  Watching him stroll, half naked, towards them had been pure sensual delight. It wasn’t just Amelie’s pulse pounding hard in response. There’d been a throb deep in her womb, a quickening of arousal, and a softening as if her feminine core readied for his possession.

  Heat flagged Amelie’s cheeks even now, remembering. But Lambis hadn’t noticed. His whole focus had been on Seb. Besides, she was a past master at hiding her response to him. He’d never have invited her to his home if he knew the number of nights he’d haunted her most erotic fantasies.

  Yet what made Lambis Evangelos more devastating than mere sculpted beauty was the patient way he’d focused on Seb. He’d coaxed the little boy into the pool and, if Seb hadn’t actually smiled or spoken, he’d responded, even at one point initiating a new phase of their game.

  Amelie had sat back and watched, her heart full.

  It had been easier when she detested Lambis for trying to turn them away. Now, as reluctant host, he was making a real difference to Seb, succeeding where she’d failed. All her defences against him, against further hurt, trembled on their foundations.

  Pushing back her shoulders, she stepped out onto the wide terrace. This was just a meal. How many times had she sat through meals with complete strangers or people she didn’t particularly like and made small talk? Yet a frisson of warning touched her nape as she followed the housekeeper’s instructions to the far end of the terrace.

  Subtle lighting turned the pool area to an idyllic retreat. But it was the scene at the end of the house that caught her breath.

  A private patio extended from what she guessed were Lambis’s rooms right to the white sand beach. A pergola draped with bright bougainvillea and other blooms gave the area a sense of intimacy and scented the evening air with flowers.

  For a moment she hesitated, unnerved by the romantic scene, till she realised that, in addition to the fat white pillar candles in their glasses, there were lights everywhere. Clearly Lambis didn’t want her misunderstanding and thinking this was some romantic rendezvous.

  ‘Amelie.’ A shadow moved at the far end of the terrace, prowling closer with that distinctive loose-limbed walk.


  Her breath seized. In broad daylight Lambis Evangelos was stunning. In the soft glow of evening, dressed all in black and freshly shaved, Amelie couldn’t drag her eyes away.

  He stopped before her, his gaze skating over her dress and neat shoes, then back up to linger a second at her collarbone, where her pearl pendant rose with her rapid pulse, then up to meet her eyes.

  His eyes looked darker than usual and for a moment they seemed to glow. She waited for him to say something, strangely disappointed when it was simply, ‘Thank you for joining me.’

  She inclined her head. ‘My pleasure.’ Stupidly she felt stiff and slightly breathless, as if her lifetime’s experience in handling difficult social occasions had disintegrated.

  Lambis, on the other hand, was a perfect host as he invited her to a seat at the table for two, offered wine and explained the aromatic seafood dishes prepared from today’s catch on the other side of the island.

  The problem was her. She was on edge, gauche as a girl on a first date. But this wasn’t a date. This was Lambis being a good host. The change in him over a couple of days was remarkable. Today with Seb she’d again seen that quiet kindness that had drawn her years ago.

  ‘Thank you, Lambis.’ She met his eyes and held them despite the sizzle that fired in her veins. ‘I know you don’t want us here. I know you don’t like your privacy invaded. But I do appreciate what you’re doing for Seb.’

  For a pulse beat, then another he was silent. ‘Trying to do. There are no guarantees.’ The grooves at the corners of his mouth deepened. ‘If anyone will make a difference it will be you. You’re the one he loves. I’m almost a stranger.’

  Amelie shook her head as she helped herself to the platter he held out. ‘I haven’t made a difference so far.’ It took everything she had not to let her voice wobble. She’d failed Seb, and his dead parents.

  ‘Don’t underestimate what you’ve done.’ Lambis’s voice was gravel and silk, making tiny ripples of delight break out on her bare arms. ‘You’ve always been there for him. He adores you. And I didn’t trigger what happened today. It was the shock of the speedboat.’