A Bride for the Island Prince / The Last Goodbye: A Bride for the Island Prince. Rebecca Winters

A Bride for the Island Prince / The Last Goodbye: A Bride for the Island Prince - Rebecca Winters


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her, making her uncomfortable. When she got up from the chair, he followed her over to the edge of the pool and listened as she engaged his daughter in a conversation that was really a teaching moment. She had a remarkable, unique way of communicating. Zoe ate it up. Why wouldn’t she? There was no one else like Dottie.

      Dottie was more than a speech therapist for his daughter. She was her advocate. Her selfless efforts to help Zoe lead a normal life couldn’t be repaid with gifts or perks or money she’d already refused to accept. The woman wanted his daughter to succeed for the purest of reasons. She wanted it for a stranger’s child, too. That made Dottie Richards a person of interest to him in ways that went deep beneath the surface.

      Alex took off his sandals and dove into the deep end. After doing some underwater laps, he emerged next to his daughter, causing her to shriek with laughter. The day had been idyllic and it wasn’t over.

      As he did more laps, his thoughts drifted to his conversation with Dottie last night. When he’d turned eighteen, his family had arranged the betrothal to Princess Teresa. However, until he’d been ready to commit to marriage, he’d known pleasure and desire with various women over the years. Those women had understood nothing long lasting could come of the relationship. No one woman’s memory had lingered long in his mind. Forget his heart.

      When Zoe came along, their daughter gave them both something new and wonderful to focus on. With Teresa’s passing, Zoe had become the joy of his life. There’d been other women in the past two years, but the part of his psyche that had never been touched was still a void.

      Enter Dottie Richards, a woman who’d buried a son and husband. He could still hear her saying she’d lost the great loves of her life. She’d experienced the kind of overwhelming love denied him because of his royal roots. He really envied her the freedom to choose the man who’d satisfied her passion at its deepest level and had given her a child.

      Though it was an unworthy sentiment, Alex found himself resenting her husband for that same freedom. If Alex had been a commoner and had met her in his early twenties—before she’d met her husband—would she have been as attracted to him as he was to her? Would they have married?

      She wasn’t indifferent to Alex. The way she’d kissed him back last night convinced him of her strong attraction to him. He’d also sensed her interest at odd times when he noticed her eyes on him. The way she sometimes breathed faster around him for no apparent reason. But he had no way to gauge the true depth of her emotions until he could get her alone again.

      As for his feelings, all he knew was that she’d lit a fire inside him. In two weeks, even without physical intimacy, Dottie affected him more than Teresa had ever done during the three years of their marriage.

      For the first time in his life he was suddenly waking up every morning hardly able to breathe until he saw her. For the only time in his existence he was questioning everything about the royal legacy that made him who he was and dictated his destiny.

      His jealousy terrified him. He’d seen his brother’s interest in her. Stasi’s arranged marriage would be happening on his thirty-fifth birthday, in less than three weeks now. Until then it didn’t stop him from enjoying and looking at other women. But it had angered Alex, who felt territorial when it came to Dottie. That’s why he hadn’t let Stasi dance with her. Alex had no right to feel this way, but the situation had gone way beyond rights.

      Alex wanted his daughter’s speech therapist. But as he’d already learned, a command from him meant nothing to her. A way had to be found so she wouldn’t leave, but he had to be careful that he didn’t frighten her off.

      He swam back to Zoe, who hung on to the edge of the pool, practicing the hard C sound with Dottie. Without looking him in the eye, Dottie said, “Here’s your daddy. Now that your lesson is over, I have to go inside. Zoe, I need to tell you now that I won’t be able come to your bedroom to say good-night later. I have plans I can’t break, but I’ll see you in the morning.” She finally glanced at him. “Your Highness.”

      Alex had no doubts that if she’d dared and if it wouldn’t have alarmed Zoe, Dottie would have run away from him as fast as she could. Fortunately one of the positive benefits of being the prince meant he could keep twenty-four-hour surveillance on her.

      After she’d left the sun deck, he spent another half hour in the pool with his daughter before they went inside. But once in her room, Zoe told Sofia to go away. When Alex tried to reason with her and get her to apologize, she broke down in tears, begging him to eat dinner with her in her room. She didn’t want to be with Yiayia.

      Dottie’s announcement that she wouldn’t be coming in to say good-night had sent the sun behind a black cloud. Naturally Dottie had every right to spend her evenings the way she wished. That’s what he told Zoe. He had to help his daughter see that, but the idyllic day had suddenly vanished like a curl of smoke in the air.

      “Make her come, Daddy.”

      A harsh laugh escaped his lips. You didn’t make Dottie do anything. He didn’t have that kind of power. She had to do it herself because she wanted to.

      What if she didn’t want to? What if the memory of life with her husband trapped her in the past and she couldn’t, or didn’t want to, reach out? On the heels of those questions came an even more important one.

      Why would she reach out? What did a prince have to offer a commoner? An affair? A secret life? The answers to that question not only stared him in the face, they kicked him in the gut with enough violence to knock the wind out of him.

      Once Zoe was asleep, Alex left for his suite, taking the palace stairs three steps at a time to the next floor. The last person he expected to find in his living room was Stasio with a glass of scotch in his hand.

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