Page 23 of The Heir Affair (Claimed by a Greek #1)

Three days later

‘I met your princess last night, Xander. She’s a lot more…intriguing than I was anticipating.’

Intriguing? Xander frowned at his brother over the video call. Why did that sound like a euphemism for something else entirely? And why did Theo look a lot less relaxed than usual?

‘She’s not my princess any more, Theo,’ he clarified, deciding not to question his brother further. Theo might be a player, but he was not the type to seduce virgins, especially not regal virgins who came with irate fathers attached.

And Princess Freya was certainly that. Xander had phoned Prince Andreas himself, after he and Poppy had returned to the yacht in Sorrento, to confirm what Theo had already told the man that morning—Xander was pulling out of their marriage bargain.

He thought he’d owed the man and his daughter that courtesy.

But the Prince had still been furious. Xander had been unimpressed with the man’s surly tone and insinuations, forced to explain in words of one syllable he would not be bullied into an arrangement that no longer worked for him when Andreas had threatened to kill the land deal unless he reconsidered.

If Andreas was stupid enough to destroy a deal that would bring immense financial benefits to his principality over a point of pride, that was his decision.

Now he thought about it, Xander was relieved not to have to contemplate having the man as a father-in-law. From the accusations the Prince had thrown around, it was clear he had never considered them equals. So to hell with him.

After hanging up on the irate prince, Xander had messaged Theo and told him to find another location for the harbourage they required for the cruise-ship business.

It wasn’t ideal, because there was nowhere as luxurious and exclusive as Galicos—and the opportunities to buy enough land for the terminal were limited elsewhere in the Mediterranean.

Given they were now looking at other options, though, Xander was surprised to discover Theo was still in the principality, and had not called off last night’s engagement party…

‘Why the hell did you go ahead with the party?’ he asked. ‘I thought I told you we weren’t pursuing a deal in Galicos now.’

‘And I thought you agreed to let me handle this from here?’ Theo shot straight back.

Xander noted his brother’s belligerent expression. What was that about?

He forced himself to control his irritation, though—well aware his impatience had a lot more to do with Poppy, and her virtual refusal to come out of her suite in the last three days, than it did with the demise of the Galicos deal, or his brother’s strange behaviour.

She’d barely even thanked him when he’d had her belongings collected from the hostel in Port Gabriel and flown to Sicily, so they could be returned to her when they stopped in Syracuse to refuel yesterday.

It was Xander’s turn to scowl, annoyed her lack of gratitude was still bothering him so much. It was almost as if he had been trying to win her favour with the gesture, when he hadn’t needed anyone’s approval since the night his father had abandoned him.

He took a long gulp of his morning coffee and inhaled a lungful of the sea air tinged with the scent of the olive and citrus groves cultivated on Rhodes, and the clean earthy scent of the Aleppo pine forests that grew in abundance on the island.

The impatience and frustration that had been sitting in his stomach like a brick since Sorrento began to throb.

He scanned Rhodes’ vibrant interior from the yacht’s deck—the verdant green of the forested hills splashed with colour from the oleander and myrtles that grew wild on the island—and the ribbons of pristine beaches.

Greece was home. Wherever he went in the world, however much wealth or influence he acquired, he always came back here. Because he felt the pull of these shores, this culture, even though for much of his early life it had not been kind to him.

He frowned, the sentimental—and self-indulgent—thought even more galling.

He had purchased Parádeisos and built a home on it because this area of his homeland was so much less hectic than Athens.

Serene and steeped in history, Rhodes and the surrounding islands were also at their best at this time of year, when the sun was still hot, the water warm, but the tourist season winding down…

So why had he allowed his one day with Poppy to rob him of what he had built here? And why did his insistence on returning here with her not seem like the easy fix it had a few days ago?

He’d assumed she would come to him, that she would be unable to resist their chemistry. But he was the one who had struggled, not her.

‘Trust me, Xander,’ Theo said, interrupting Xander’s thoughts. ‘The Prince still wants this deal, and he needs it more than we do if the rumours I’ve heard are correct. Once he realises he’s running out of time, and we’re his only option, the arrogant ass will do what I tell him.’

‘Should I be concerned about your tactics, Theo?’ Xander asked, because Theo’s usual devil-may-care charm seemed to be in short supply this morning.

Although making a success of the cruise business mattered to him a lot less at the moment than solving the problem of Poppy Brown, which spoke volumes about how she had managed to distract him from his priorities.

‘Don’t concern yourself with my tactics. I will only employ the nuclear option if absolutely necessary,’ Theo said.

‘What’s the nuclear option?’ Xander asked as he took another sip of his coffee and tried to show an interest in his business.

‘I kidnap the virgin princess and marry her myself.’

Xander spat out the coffee but was chuckling as he disconnected his brother’s call.

His brother’s joke had managed to stop him brooding—but also made him realise something that he should have realised days, maybe even months ago.

He was overthinking the problem of Poppy Brown.

He had become obsessed with her, during the past five months. And had allowed his sexual frustration, over the last few days of their voyage, while she had been hiding in her cabin, to demolish his usual pragmatism.

Hearing how her father had also let her down, over their pizza in Sorrento, had made him feel exposed again, as he had that day on Parádeisos five months before, when for a few fleeting hours he had felt a connection with her that went beyond the physical…

A connection that scared him, because it felt out of his control.

But it was obvious to him now he had confused his physical desire for her and her unique ability to frustrate him with something else. The only connection they really shared was the knowledge that it was pointless to rely on anyone’s affection and support because it could be withdrawn so easily.

Of course, the existence of the child made him determined to protect her…

Because he would never be like his father, a man who abandoned his responsibilities to his own flesh and blood.

But he could fulfil his responsibilities to Poppy and his child by giving them a secure home—perhaps even on Parádeisos, which he knew she loved.

Showing her what her life could be like, as his mistress as well as the mother of his child, would surely make her better able to accept the loss of her financial independence.

More importantly though, he was through letting her call the shots.

His obsession with her was physical—the last three days of mounting torture had confirmed as much—so it was time to be a lot more proactive.

They would anchor off the coast this morning—and take the launch to Parádeisos.

And then Poppy would no longer be able to hide from him so easily.

Or the vicious desire that had woken him up each night, hard and ready for her.

‘No wonder this place is called paradise, Pops. Imagine living here?’

Poppy stood on the cabin balcony, her mum’s voice echoing through the years, as emotion pummelled her chest at the sight of Parádeisos across the sparkling blue water, its verdant interior and beautiful beaches still untouched, despite the deluxe villa she now knew stood on the opposite side of the island.

She released the breath she felt as though she’d been holding for days now… Ever since she’d agreed to return here, with Xander.

Avoiding him on the yacht had turned out to be easier than she’d expected, simply by eating in her cabin and only venturing out to thank him when her rucksack had been delivered.

But when she heard the sharp rap on her cabin door, and her heart jumped into her throat, she wondered if keeping such a low profile had been the right choice.

Because now she was even more on edge than she had been in Sorrento.

She trooped to the door and opened it to find Meghan and Nicholai, the young steward who had been serving her meals, outside. But the wave of relief was short-lived.

‘Mr Caras has the launch ready to escort you both to the island, Miss Brown. Nicholai will pack your belongings.’

‘It’s okay, I’m already packed,’ she said. It hadn’t taken long to stuff her tiny wardrobe of shorts, T-shirts and a few summer dresses into her pack. But when she went to lift the rucksack off the bed, Meghan stepped forward.

‘Please, Miss Brown, you must let Nicholai carry your bag,’ she said, her smile strained.

Poppy wanted to argue. The pack wasn’t heavy, and having it escorted by the uniformed steward only made her more aware of the worn fabric, and the meagre collection of clothes inside it.

But she forced herself to drop it back on the bed.

Because, she had no doubt at all, Xander would reprimand his staff if she carried her own luggage.

And she didn’t want anyone getting into trouble simply because being waited on made her feel so uneasy.

‘Of course,’ she managed. ‘And thank you, I really appreciate it.’

When they arrived on the main deck, Xander was chatting with the superyacht’s captain.