A Bride for the Island Prince Read online

  Alex quickly shifted his gaze to her face and was caught off guard again by the wide, sculpted mouth and the cornflower-blue of her eyes. They reminded him of the cornflowers growing wild alongside larkspurs on Aurum Island where he normally lived.

  He missed his private palace there where he conducted the mining interests for the monarchy, away from Hellenica. The big island drew the tourists in hordes, Aurum not quite so much. He shouldn’t mind tourists since they were one of his country’s greatest financial resources, but with his daughter in such distress, everything bothered him these days. Especially the woman standing in front of him.

  A speech therapist could come in any size and shape. He just hadn’t expected this woman, period. For one thing, she looked too young for the task ahead of her. No wonder Hector hadn’t dropped a clue about her.

  “I’ve been told you suffered on your helicopter ride. I hope you’re feeling better.”

  “Much better, thank you. The view was spectacular.”

  One dark brow dipped. “What little you saw of it in your condition.”

  “Little is right,” she acknowledged in a forthright manner. “I’m sorry your generous attempt to show me the sights in your helicopter didn’t have the desired outcome.” Her blunt way of speaking came as a surprise. “Will I be meeting your daughter this morning?”

  “Yes.” He flicked his glance to Hector. “Would you ask Sofia to bring Zoe to us?”

  The older man gave a brief bow and slipped out of the office, leaving the two of them alone. Alex moved closer and invited her to sit down on the love seat. “Would you care for tea or coffee?”

  “Nothing for me. I just had some tea. It’s settling my stomach, but please have some yourself if you want it.”

  If he wanted it? She was more of a surprise than ever and seemed at ease, which wasn’t always the case with strangers meeting him.

  “My boss, Dr. Rice, told me your daughter is having trouble communicating, but he didn’t give me any details. How long since your wife passed away?”

  “Two years ago.”

  “And now Zoe is four. That means she wouldn’t have any memory of her mother except what you’ve told her, and of course pictures. Did your wife carry Zoe full term?”

  “No. She came six weeks early and was in the hospital almost a month. I feared we might lose her, but she finally rallied. I thought that could be the reason why she’s been a little slower to make herself understood.”

  “Was her speech behind from infancy?”

  “I don’t really know what’s normal. Not having been around children before, I had no way to compare her progress. All I know is her speech is difficult to understand. The queen and I are used to her, but over the past few months her behaviour’s become so challenging, we’ve lost her art, English and dance teachers and three nannies. Her Greek tutor has all but given up and she’s too much for the teacher to handle at her preschool.”

  “It’s usually the caregiver who first notices if there’s a problem. Would that have been your wife?”

  “Yes, but a lot of the time she was ill with a bad heart and the nanny had to take over. I took charge in the evenings after my work, but I hadn’t been truly alarmed about Zoe until two weeks ago when I had to withdraw her from preschool. As I told you earlier, I’d assumed that being a premature baby, she simply hadn’t caught up yet.”

  “Has she had her normal checkup with the pediatrician?”

  “Yes.”

  “No heart problem with her.”

  He shook his dark head. “I even took her to my own internist for a second opinion. Neither doctor found anything physically wrong with her, but they gave me the name of a child psychiatrist to find out if something else is going on to make her behind in her speech. Before I did that, I decided to take Dr. Wyman’s advice. He recommended I take her to the Stillman Institute for a diagnosis before doing anything else.”

  “I see. What kind of behavior does she manifest?”

  “When it comes time for her lessons lately, Zoe has tantrums and cries hysterically. All she wants to do is hide in her bed or run to her great-grandmother’s suite for comfort.”

  “What about her appetite?”

  This morning Zoe had taken only a few nibbles of her breakfast, another thing that had alarmed him. “Not what it should be.”

  She studied his features as if she were trying to see inside him. “You must be frantic.”

  Frantic? “Yes,” he murmured. That was the perfect word to describe his state of mind. Mrs. Richards was very astute, but unlike everyone else in his presence except the queen and Stasio, she spoke her mind.

  “Imagine your daughter feeling that same kind of emotion and then times it by a hundred.”

  Alex blinked. This woman’s observation brought it home that she might just know what she was talking about. While he was deep in contemplation, his daughter appeared, clinging to Sofia’s hand. Hector slipped in behind them.

  “Zoe?” Alex said in English. “Come forward.” She took a tentative step. “This is Mrs. Richards. She’s come all the way from New York to see you. Can you say hello to her?”

  His daughter took one look at their guest and her face crumpled in pain. He knew that look. She was ready for flight. With his stomach muscles clenched, he switched to Greek and asked her the same question. This time Zoe’s response was to say she wanted her yiayia, then she burst into tears and ran out of the room. Sofia darted after her.

  Alex called her back and started for the door, but Mrs. Richards unexpectedly said, “Let her go.”

  Her countermand surprised him. Except for his own deceased father, no one had ever challenged him like that, let alone about his own daughter. It was as if their positions had been reversed and she was giving the orders. The strange irony set his teeth on edge.

  “She probably assumes I’m her new nanny,” she added in a gentler tone. “I don’t blame her for running away. I can see she’s at her wit’s end. The first thing I’d like you to do is get her in to an ear, nose and throat specialist followed up by an audiologist.”

  He frowned, having to tamp down his temper. “As I told you a minute ago, Zoe has already been given two checkups.”

  “Not that kind of exam,” she came back, always keeping her voice controlled. “A child or an adult with speech problems could have extra wax buildup not noticeable with a normal check-up because it’s deep inside. It’s not either doctor’s fault. They’re not specialists in this area. If there’s nothing wrong with her ears and I can’t help her, then your daughter needs to see a child psychiatrist to find out why she’s regressing.

  “For now let’s find out if more wax than normal has accumulated recently. If so, it must be cleaned out to help improve her hearing. Otherwise sounds could be blocked or distorted, preventing her from mimicking them.”

  “Why would there be an abnormal amount of wax?”

  “Does she get earaches very often?”

  “A few every year.”

  “It’s possible her ear canals are no longer draining as they should.”

  That made sense. His hands formed fists. Why hadn’t he thought of it?

  Her well-shaped brows lifted. “Not even a prince can know everything.” She’d read his mind and her comment sent his blood pressure soaring. “Will you arrange it? Sooner would be better than later because I can’t get started on my testing until the procedure has been done. That child needs help in a hurry.”

  As if Alex didn’t know c Why else had he sent for her?

  He didn’t like feeling guilty because he’d let the problem go on too long without exploring every avenue. Alex also didn’t like being second-guessed or told what to do. But since it was Zoe they were talking about, he decided to let it go for now. “I’ll see that a specialist fits her in today.”

  “Good. Let me know the results and we’ll go from there.” She turned to leave.

  “I haven’t excused you yet, Mrs. Richar
ds.”

  She wheeled back around. “Forgive me, and please call me Dottie.” Through the fringe of her dark, silky lashes, her innocent blue gaze eyed him frankly. “I’ve never worked with a parent who’s a monarch. This is a new experience.”

  Indeed, it was. It appeared Alex was an acquired taste, something he hadn’t known could happen. He wasn’t a conceited man, but it begged the question whether she had an instant dislike of him.

  “Monarch or not, do you always walk away from a conversation before it’s over?”

  “I thought it was.” She stood firm. “I deal with preschoolers all the time and your little girl is so adorable, I’m hoping to get to the bottom of her problem right away. I’m afraid I’m too focused on my job. Your Highness,” she tacked on, as if she weren’t sure whether to say it or not.

  She was different from anyone he’d ever met. Not rude exactly, yet definitely the opposite of obsequious. He didn’t know what to think of her. But just now she’d sounded sincere enough where his daughter was concerned. Alex needed to take the advice his mother had given him as a boy. Never react on a first impression or you could live to regret it.

  “I’m glad you’re focused,” he said and meant it. “She’s the light of my life.”

  The briefest glint of pain entered her eyes. “You’re a lucky man to have her, even if you are a prince.”

  His brows furrowed. “Even if I’m a prince?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I meant—Well, I meant that one assumes a prince has been given everything in life and is very lucky. But to be the father of a darling daughter, too, makes you that much luckier.”

  Though she smiled, he heard a sadness in her words. Long after he’d excused her and had arranged for the doctor’s appointment, the shadow he’d seen in those deep blue eyes stayed with him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  DOTTIE stayed in her room for part of the day, fussing and fuming over a situation she could do little about. I haven’t excused you yet, Mrs. Richards.

  The mild rebuke had fallen from the lips of a prince who was outrageously handsome. Tall and built like the statue of a Greek god, he possessed the inky-black hair and eyes of his Hellenican ancestry. Everything—his chiseled jaw, his strong male features—set him apart from other men.

  Even if he weren’t royal, he looked like any woman’s idea of a prince. He’d stood there in front of his country’s flag, effortlessly masculine and regal in a silky blue shirt and white trousers that molded to his powerful thighs.

  He’d smelled good, too. Dottie noticed things like that and wished she hadn’t because it reminded her that beneath the royal mantle, he was human.

  Already she feared she might not be the right person for this job. Dr. Rice, the head of her department at the Stillman clinic, had said he’d handpicked her for this assignment because of her own personal experiences that gave her more understanding. Fine, but in order to give herself time to get used to the idea, she should have been told she was coming to a royal household before she boarded the jet in New York.

  The atmosphere here was different from anything Dottie had known and she needed time to adjust. There was so much to deal with—the stiffness, the protocol, the maids and nannies, the teachers, the tutors, a prince for a father who’d been forced to obey a rigid schedule his whole life, a princess without a motherc .

  A normal child would have run into the room and hugged her daddy without thinking about it, but royal etiquette had held Zoe back from doing what came naturally. She’d appeared in the doorway and stood at attention like a good soldier.

  The whole thing had to be too much for a little girl who just wanted to be a little girl. In the end she’d broken those rules and had taken off down the hall, her dark brown curls bouncing. Despite his calling her name, she’d kept going. The precious child couldn’t handle any more.

  Dottie’s heart ached for Zoe who’d ignored her father’s wishes and had run out of his office with tears flowing from those golden-brown eyes. She must have gotten her coloring from her mother, who’d probably been petite. His daughter had inherited her beauty and olive skin from her father, no doubt from her mother, too.

  The vague images Dottie had retained of him and his brother through the media had been taken when they were much younger, playboy princes setting hearts afire throughout Europe. In the intervening years, Zoe’s father had become a married man who’d lost his wife too soon in life. Tragic for him, and more tragic for a child to lose a parent. Unfortunately it had happened.

  Dottie was the enemy of the moment where Zoe was concerned, and she’d would have to be careful how she approached her to do the testing. Soon enough she would discover how much of Zoe’s problem was emotional or physical. Probably both.

  With a deep sigh she ate the lunch a maid had brought her on a tray. Later another maid offered to unpack for her, but Dottie thanked her before dismissing her. She could do it herself. In fact she didn’t want to get completely unpacked in case she’d be leaving the palace right away. If the little princess had a problem outside of Dottie’s expertise, then Dottie would soon be flown back to New York from the island.

  At five o’clock the phone rang at the side of her queen-size bed. It was Hector. The prince wished to speak to her in his office. He was sending a maid to escort her. It was on the tip of Dottie’s tongue to tell him she didn’t need help finding the prince’s inner sanctum, but she had to remember that when in Rome c Already she’d made a bad impression. It wouldn’t do to alienate him further, not when he was so anxious about his daughter.

  She thanked Hector and freshened up. In a minute, one of the maids arrived and accompanied her down a different staircase outside her private guest suite to the main floor. The prince was waiting for her.

  Out of deference to him, she waited until he spoke first. He stood there with his hands on his hips. By the aura of energy he was giving out with those jet-black eyes playing over her, she sensed he had something of significance to tell her.

  “Sit down, please.”

  She did his bidding, anxious to hear about the result of the examination.

  “Once we could get Zoe to cooperate, the doctor found an inordinate amount of wax adhering to her eardrums from residual fluid. She hated every second of it, but after they were cleaned out, she actually smiled when he asked her if she could hear better. The audiologist did tests afterwards and said her hearing is fine.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Dottie cried out happily.

  “Yes. On the way back to the palace, I could tell she did understand more words being spoken to her. There was understanding in her eyes.”

  Beneath that formal reserve of his, she knew he was relieved for that much good news. A prince could move mountains and that’s what he’d done today by getting her into an ear specialist so fast. In fact, he’d made it possible for Dottie to come to Hellenica instead of the other way around. What greater proof that the man loved his daughter?

  “This is an excellent start, Your Highness.”

  “When do you want to begin testing her?”

  “Tomorrow morning. She needs to have a good night’s sleep first. After what she’s been through today, she doesn’t need any more trauma.”

  “Agreed.” She heard a wealth of emotion in that one word. Dottie could imagine the struggle his daughter had put up. “Where would you like to test her?”

  Since the prince was still standing, Dottie got to her feet to be on par with him, but she still needed to look up. “If you asked her where her favorite place is to play, what would she tell you?”

  After a moment he said, “The patio off my bedroom.”

  That didn’t surprise Dottie. His little girl wanted to be near him without anyone else around. “Does she play there often?”

  She heard his sharp intake of breath. “No. It’s not allowed unless I’m there, too.” Of course not. “My work normally goes past her bedtime.”

  “And morning
s?”

  “While we’ve been at the palace, I’ve always had breakfast with her in the queen’s suite. Zoe’s the most comfortable there.”

  “I’m talking before breakfast.”

  “That’s when I work out and she takes a swimming lesson.”

  Dottie fought to remain quiet, but her impulse was to cry out in dismay over the strict regimen. “So what times does she get to play with you on your patio?”

  He pursed his lips. “Sunday afternoons after chapel and lunch. Why all these questions?”

  She needed to be careful she didn’t offend him again. “I’m trying to get a sense of her day and her relationship with you. When is her Greek lesson?”

  “Before her dinner.”

  “You don’t eat dinner with her, then?”

  “No.”

  Oh. Poor Zoe. “You say she was attending a preschool until two weeks ago?”

  “Yes. The sessions went in two-hour segments, three times a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday. But lately I haven’t insisted for the obvious reasons.”

  “When does she play with friends?”

  “You mean outside her school?”

  “Yes. Does she have friends here at the palace?”

  “No, but we normally live on Aurum where she has several.”

  “I see. Thank you for giving me that information. Would it be all right with you if I test her out on your patio? I believe she’ll be more responsive in a place where she’s truly happy and at ease. If you’re there, too, it will make her more comfortable. But with your full schedule I don’t suppose that’s poss—”

  “I’ll make time for it,” he declared, cutting her off.

  No matter how she said things, she seemed to be in the wrong. It wasn’t her intention to push his buttons, but she was doing a good job of it anyway. “That would be ideal. It’s important I watch her interaction with you. Before you come, I’d like to set up out there with a few things I’ve brought.”