His Princess in the Making. Melissa James

His Princess in the Making - Melissa James


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But she’d sworn long ago she’d never embarrass him, or herself, by burdening him with her desires again. She’d done that eleven years ago, at that wretched New Year’s party, and had almost destroyed their friendship.

      She’d never risk losing him again.

      He’d given her so much during the past ten years. He’d just proved his devotion by crossing the world for her. Why ruin something so perfect and wonderful for something only one of them had ever wanted?

      “Hey, Grizz, don’t I even get a hello?”

      Toby smiled at Charlie, but didn’t let go of her. Possibly because he could tell she’d refuse to release him an inch. “Rip, my old friend—or must I call you Your Royal Highness now?”

      “Oh, shut up, you dumb jerk,” Charlie growled with a grin, and thumped him on the back. “Man, it’s good to see you.”

      Lia pulled back to look into his eyes, the anxiety not quite dissipated. “You understand why we couldn’t tell you anything or call you, don’t you, Toby?”

      “No, I don’t understand in the least. I shall demand at least four home-made moussakas and two chocolate cakes in recompense for weeks of terror and loneliness without you, being followed by the press for my opinion on your status that I couldn’t answer—not to mention feeding and being dragged on a leash down city streets and into trees and electrical poles by the abominable Puck. And let’s not forget the ‘no questions asked’ abduction by ASIO, the interrogation and being whipped onto a jet without so much as a by-your-leave. You are permanently in my debt, beautiful girl—and I will demand adequate recompense at the appropriate time.” He smiled down at her.

      Stupid, stupid body… Why did she always quiver when he smiled like that? Why did a simple curve of his lips always make her feel as if the world had stopped and they were the only people in the universe? “I’ve been in your debt for years, and you’ve never once collected.”

      “Perhaps what I want needs a debt this massive, my Giulia,” he said softly, with an intensity in his eyes she couldn’t quite fathom. “Perhaps I always felt as deeply in your debt by your magnificent care for the tag-along in the family.”

      “Don’t be silly, you are family. So where is Puck now?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. If Toby knew what the sweet intimacy in his voice did to her, he’d… Well, no, he wouldn’t laugh at her. Not again. But he’d be ashamed and embarrassed, and all the things he’d been before, making for months of unbearable awkwardness between them.

      Toby cocked his head to the car with a long-suffering grin. “He wouldn’t stop yapping and chasing his tail, even when they brought him to me. ASIO called in a veterinarian for clearance papers for him—and also, against my protests, for sedation. He should wake up any time now.”

      “Oh, my poor Puck!” She raced to the car, dragging Toby with her, and yanked the door open, her face splitting with a smile she hadn’t felt inside herself since they’d walked into the lawyer’s office in Sydney. Being Hellenia’s Princess Royal was a privilege and honour; she knew that. But it was still alien to her. She felt as if she was stumbling though each long day of lessons and duties, working out ways to help the people of Hellenia, and brokering peace between Charlie and the King.

      But now Toby was here, and all was right with the world.

      “I can’t believe you brought that mangy mongrel,” Charlie grumbled good-naturedly as he followed them.

      “Yes, a distinctly unroyal mutt—definitely not princess material. I dread seeing what antics he’ll get up to in the palace. Giulia, perhaps it might be best to leave him in the travelling cage.”

      Lia ignored them both. They’d been mock-complaining about Puck since she’d brought him home as a puppy a year ago, a gift from one of her dance pupils. She’d originally called him Boofhead, but Toby had named him Puck—because, like the Shakespearean character, he annoyed everybody—and the name had stuck. She opened the travelling cage and pulled her sleepy dog out, half Miniature German Schnauzer and half heaven knew what. She lifted him against her chest and hugged him one-armed, because, even cuddling her pet, she couldn’t let go of Toby, could hardly believe he was here. The nightmare felt more bearable with him beside her.

      “Remember, you owe me four moussakas,” he whispered in her ear. “Among other debts I choose to collect at the right time and place.”

      Oh, how she loved and hated the warm, shivering excitement that streaked through her at the intimacy. Hated the sense of cheated unfairness that, of all the men in the world, only her dearest friend made her feel as if she was melting inside with a simple whisper.

      Stop it. He’s your best friend, almost a brother. You’re a woman now, and a princess. You’re practically engaged—to a rich, handsome, kind…stranger.

      “Does your silence indicate that you’re too grand these days to enter a kitchen to make me moussaka, Giulia?”

      It took a mammoth effort to grin up at Toby as if nothing was wrong, but she’d been practising the skill for years, and she had the hang of it now. “No, the kitchen’s too grand for me. You should see the one here. I went in one night, took one look and bolted back to my rooms.”

      His eyes twinkled. “You require my reassuring and close-to-massive presence to terminate the feeling of smallness in the royal scale of size, my Giulia?”

      She choked on laughter. “You’ve got to know how much I’ve missed you, when hearing your crazy vocabulary makes me feel so happy.”

      He grinned, unperturbed by the teasing. “It all feels a little surreal to you still? I gather my presence makes things more real for you?”

      Her eyes drank him in, her oasis in this sumptuous desert called royal life. “Nothing’s right without you—or Puck,” she added, to keep things light, holding tight to the mutt who rarely slowed down long enough for cuddles of this kind.

      “Is that so?” Toby’s grin seemed deliberately light, as if he was testing her. “You would appreciate my presence and blessing on your upcoming nuptials to the Grand Duke, Your Highness?”

      She shivered. “Don’t call me that,” she whispered, resisting the urge to bury her face in his shoulder; instead she looked away. “I’m not her, I’m not that person…not with you. And—and Max…I…”

      After a brief hesitation, he asked softly, “You don’t like the Grand Duke?”

      She saw Charlie’s hand gripping his shoulder, and knew he wanted to know her answer too. They all wanted to know—the King, Jazmine, Charlie, her minders and diplomatic staff—not to mention the world press. Max was the only one who seemed willing to wait.

      Well, they’d all have to wait. She had enough changes to deal with, just getting used to being called Your Highness, learning new duties and languages, and how to speak to strangers of varying importance with grace instead of blushing and wanting to hide. In being Hellenia’s new princess, she finally felt as if she was in a position to help others, but she’d spent a quiet, almost invisible life until now. She didn’t know how she’d accustom herself to being important to anyone, always being followed around, having black-suited, armed professionals watching her every move.

      When it came to dissecting her emotions, she’d always felt like a fish on the end of a line, floundering about with no result. In all her life, it had seemed she could never have the few things she wanted, and could always have what she didn’t want.

      Max was the perfect, handsome, kind point in question.

      “I do like Max. Of course I do,” she said quietly. “He’s lovely and kind, and understanding—handsome too.” She flashed Toby a quirky grin. “He’s the standard fairy-tale prince…well, duke. I do like him—everybody likes Max—but…” She stopped when she heard the stilted tone in her voice.

      She’d long ago accepted that she was the


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