Innocent Surrender. Robyn Donald
do.” Behind him Demetrios heard her take an expansive breath. “In fact, it feels wonderful.”
He grunted. He supposed it must. Like dodging a bullet. The way he’d feel if he’d never married Lissa. He glanced up at her. “Congratulations.”
She grinned. “Thank you.”
He cocked his head, considering how simple it had been. Maybe too simple? “And Gerard was okay with your breaking it off?”
“Well, not exactly,” she admitted. She shoved a tendril of hair that had escaped her ponytail away from her ear. “He said all brides have jitters. That I should think things over. Take some time. Get to know my own mind.” She snorted—a ladylike snort. “I do know my own mind.”
Did she? Demetrios doubted it. She’d agreed to marry Gerard, hadn’t she? She must have thought it was a good idea at one point. And Gerard obviously expected her to come to her senses.
“And your father?” Demetrios demanded. “What did he say?” When she didn’t answer at once, he narrowed his gaze. “You did tell him?”
Anny tossed her ponytail. “I sent him an e-mail.”
Demetrios gaped. “You sent your father—the king—an e-mail?”
She shrugged, then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly. “He might be everyone else’s king, but he’s my father. And I didn’t want to talk to him.”
“I’ll bet you didn’t.”
“He’ll understand. He loves me.”
No doubt he did. But he was also king of a country. A man who was used to ruling, commanding, telling everyone—especially his daughter—what to do. And he had told her to marry Gerard.
“He’ll get used to it.” But Demetrios thought Anny’s words were more to convince herself, not him. “It will just take a little time. He might be…upset…at first, but—” another shrug “—that’s why I’m leaving.”
He looked up at her. “What do you mean, leaving?”
Anny turned and hopped back down onto the deck, and for the first time Demetrios noticed the backpack and the suitcase sitting on the far side of the dock.
As he watched, she shouldered the pack, then picked up the suitcase. “I’m going away for a while.”
He came to rest his elbows on the back of the cockpit and stare at her. “You’re leaving Cannes?”
She nodded grimly. “Papa will be on my doorstep as soon as he gets the e-mail, finds his pilot, and fuels the jet. I don’t intend to be here when he comes.” She shrugged. “He will need time to come to terms. So I’m off. I just—” she smiled at him “—didn’t want to leave without telling you, saying thank you.”
Frankly, he thought she was carrying the etiquette a bit too far. And You’re welcome didn’t seem much of an answer. Whatever advice he’d given her had been based on his messed-up marriage and might have nothing to do with hers. What the hell had he thought he was doing?
“Maybe you should give it some time,” he said now. “Don’t be too hasty. Think for a while, like Gerard said. Then decide.”
She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I’m not being hasty. And I have thought! We’ve been engaged three years. First I wanted to finish grad school. Then I wanted to finish my dissertation. ” She paused, then met his gaze squarely. “I did decide, Demetrios. I think I decided—in my gut—a long time ago, which is why I kept putting it off. You’re just the one who gave me the courage to say it.”
They stared at each other until finally, abruptly, Anny stepped back and gave him a small salute. She smiled. “‘Bye, Demetrios. Thanks for the courage.” The smile broadened. “And the memories.”
Then she squared her slender shoulders, shifted the backpack slightly, picked up the suitcase, and marched back up the dock toward La Croisette.
Demetrios stared after her, unmoving, while his brain whirled with fifty thousand sane reasons to turn around and start getting the boat ready to sail.
But not one of them was proof against the fear of what could happen to her if he did.
Damn it!
“Anny!” He vaulted out of the cockpit, then scrambled off the boat onto the dock. “Where are you going?”
A small figure halfway down the dock turned back. She shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”
She didn’t sound as if it mattered.
Demetrios knew it did. His stomach clenched. Scowling now, annoyed that she could be so blasé about something that important, he stalked down the dock after her. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
He knew the hard edge to his voice made her eyes widen, but she didn’t shrink away from him.
She simply set the suitcase down and faced him. “Exactly what I said. I haven’t a clue. I just need to go somewhere Papa won’t expect me to be. He’ll look in all the places, the likely places,” she allowed. “So I’ll just go someplace else. It’s not like I made plans, you know.”
He knew. And he didn’t like it one bit. She was a young woman alone. Kind, trusting. Not to mention rich—and a princess, besides. She’d be prey for more unsavory characters than he wanted to think about.
“I thought I might hitchhike,” she said blithely in the face of his ominous silence.
“Hitchhike!” He spat the word, furious.
She burst out laughing. “I’m not going to hitchhike, Demetrios,” she assured him. “I was joking. You looked so intense. I’ll be fine. Don’t get so worked up.”
“I’m not worked up!” He was very calmly going to strangle her.
She was still smiling. “Right. Okay. You’re not worked up.” She gave him a sideways assessing look. Then she tried more reassurance. “You don’t need to worry. You are worrying,” she pointed out in case he hadn’t noticed.
“Because you’re acting like an idiot! You don’t just pack up and head out at the drop of a hat. You need plans. A place to go. Bodyguards!”
She blinked. “Bodyguards?”
“You’re a princess!”
“I haven’t had a bodyguard since I left university. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” She smiled again. It was a regal smile. It made Demetrios’s teeth ache they were grinding together so hard.
“But thank you for your concern,” she added, in that proper bloody well-brought-up royal tone of voice she could put on when she wanted to. Then, as if he were some mere peasant she’d just dismissed, she picked up the suitcase and started away again.
Demetrios muttered something unprintable under his breath, then stalked after her and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her to a stop. “Then you’re coming with me.”
Her head whipped around. She stared at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. “With you? To Greece?”
“Why not?” he demanded. “You don’t have a plan of your own. You can’t just wander around Europe. It’s not safe.”
“I’m not a fool, Demetrios. I went to Oxford by myself. I went to Berkeley!”
“With watchdogs,” he reminded her.
“I was young then. Almost a child. I’m not a child now.”
“No. You’re a raving beauty and any man with hormones can see that!”
“I meant I’m not going to be anyone’s prey.”
“Right. You’re big and strong and tough. That’s why I practically kidnapped