Chapter Fourteen
‘Your Highness, where have you and Theo Caras been hiding?’
‘Is marriage on the cards, Princess Freya?’
‘Caras, did you kidnap the princess?’
‘Look this way, Your Highness, the people wish to see their runaway princess.’
‘Are you in love, Freya?’
Freya flinched, the barrage of questions—both hostile and fawning—were audible above the noise of the helicopter blades powering down as she and Theo stepped onto the tarmac at the Galicos heliport.
Theo shielded her from the flash of bulbs, the discordant shouts, guiding her across the tarmac and past the phalanx of photographers and journalists barely constrained by the security guards.
Theo shouted something in Greek to the executive assistant who had met them in Nice, when the Caras brothers’ private jet had arrived there from Helsinki, and accompanied them for the short helicopter journey to Galicos.
Her father’s emissary had insisted they arrive in the principality on the royal chopper—and to her surprise Theo had agreed.
It had been less than twelve hours since she had agreed to an engagement.
And already everything seemed to be moving so fast. Theo had been locked in the lodge’s study ‘making arrangements’ while she had packed for the arduous journey in the all-terrain vehicle to Saariselk? that night, where the helicopter had been waiting to take them to the private jet in Helsinki.
They’d made love last night on the plane, which had helped to calm her nerves. She trusted Theo. According to a message she had received from Remy as soon as they touched down in Nice, her brothers were already on their way back from Italy.
On the chopper ride to Galicos, she had questioned Theo about whether her father had already been informed of their ‘engagement’. And whether that was a good strategy, if the engagement was supposed to be a bargaining tool.
But he’d shut down her concerns. ‘He wouldn’t agree to let them leave that place, Freya, without some guarantees,’ he’d said. ‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’
‘Yes, yes, of course. I just… I was hoping we could get more of a commitment out of him before giving up our ace,’ she’d replied hurriedly, not wanting to seem ungrateful. ‘We don’t want him to use them both again to force our hands…’
‘He won’t,’ he’d said, his gaze strangely distant. ‘Hey, don’t worry. I’m a master at negotiations, just ask my brother. We’re not giving your father any concessions we don’t have to.’
She’d found herself nodding, feeling like a fool. Of course, he had more experience of being ruthless with men like her father than she did… And they’d already agreed their plan of action. She had no reason to feel so insecure.
But as he gathered her against him to lead her past the reporters, her pulse continued to accelerate.
She had always been used to press attention, even as a young child, the photographers and reporters had always been there, and she was used to dealing with their demands.
But as she and Theo were bundled into the waiting car to drive them the last mile to the palace, shock reverberated through her insides, because she’d never been subjected to anything this extreme… And this crude.
As the car sped off, she reached for Theo’s hand. He squeezed her numb fingers briefly, then let her go to take out his phone. And began talking in rapid Greek—his voice low with barely concealed temper.
When he finally disconnected the call, the limo had already driven through another press barrage at the palace gates and braked to a stop in the courtyard.
‘What was your call about?’ she asked, carefully.
‘Nothing,’ he said, but his gaze didn’t meet hers, and she knew it wasn’t nothing.
Was he hiding something from her? She swallowed down the disloyal thought.
He’s just trying to protect you.
They had agreed to show a united front. She had to let Theo do the talking, because they both knew her father would never believe their ruse if he didn’t see her being dominated by her new fiancé.
She’d escaped, she’d proved she could. That act of rebellion would have to shore up her confidence now, or she’d never survive the next hour or so in her father’s autocratic company.
She hated that she’d had to come back, that she was going to have to let her father believe he’d won. But trusting Theo meant accepting he would handle this negotiation on her behalf.
He gripped her trembling fingers, lifted them to his lips, his gaze finally locking on hers. ‘I’ve got this, Freya, don’t panic.’
A member of her father’s security team stepped to the car to greet them as the chauffeur opened the door.
‘Princess Freya, Monsieur Caras, His Royal Highness is waiting to greet you in his study, to congratulate you on your engagement.’
‘I’ll just bet he is,’ Theo hissed under his breath.
The contempt in his voice gave her the courage she needed to step out of the car. And to face her father’s ire, hopefully for the last time.
They were a team, and Theo was right, it didn’t matter how they secured her freedom—the only thing that mattered was that they did.
It took less than ten minutes to usher them both into her father’s study. Prince Andreas swept towards them with a beaming smile. Freya’s stomach muscles clenched at the realisation he’d never looked so happy to see her before.
‘Caras,’ he said, clasping her new fiancé’s hand, and patting Theo’s shoulder as if they were long-lost pals.
‘It is good to have you back, my dear,’ he murmured, but she could see the flicker of enmity he didn’t attempt to disguise as he barely glanced at her.
‘We have much to discuss, Caras,’ he added, dismissing her again.
‘I understand Caras Shipping are still interested in purchasing the port tract and now that you are willing to take my daughter’s hand in marriage, I am happy to consider a deal… At a fair price, of course.’
Freya cleared her throat. She’d always been easily dismissed by her father, but she had never felt totally invisible, until now.
‘Father, we need to discuss Remy and Jacques,’ she broke in. ‘And your plans for their future, first.’
Her father glared at her. ‘They have been returned to Galicos,’ he said, his jaw tensing.
‘But what about their future education? I require some guarantees,’ she managed, despite the temper she could already see in his expression.
‘I will enrol them in their old boarding school, but only after your marriage has taken place on New Year’s Eve.’
‘But… W-what?’ She swung round to Theo, sending him a panicked look.
What was her father talking about? Theo hadn’t mentioned that a date for their wedding had already been confirmed. Hadn’t they agreed this would just be an engagement?
Theo clasped her hand and squeezed her fingers, before tugging her closer.
He kissed her, sending a shiver of sensation through her body, then whispered in her ear. ‘Let me deal with him, Freya. You must trust me.’
She nodded when he drew back, aware of her father watching them both.
She couldn’t voice any doubts here, couldn’t bargain for herself, because her father had never treated her like an equal.
She had already agreed to let Theo handle this, but the anxiety refused to ease.
Because she suddenly felt like the girl she’d been before she ran away.
The girl who had tried so hard to make her father see her but had never succeeded.
It’s not Theo’s fault.
This was her father’s doing. And if worse came to worst, and they had to go through with the marriage to free her brothers from his tyranny, she had Theo’s promise that he wouldn’t take her choices away from her.
‘Remy and Jacques are keen to see you, Freya.’ Her father spoke, the demand in his voice unmistakeable. ‘And I wish to speak with your future husband in private.’
It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. She bristled, wanting to tell him where he could stick his orders. But what could she do? She’d come back here willingly, to set things right—or, rather, to let Theo set them right. So, she had to lock down her anger—and her panic—one more time.
Theo scooped an errant curl behind her ear, the affectionate gesture and the pride in his eyes somehow shoring up her defences.
‘Go say hello to your brothers, Freya. I promise, I won’t agree to anything that isn’t in your best interests, and theirs.’
She forced a strained smile to her lips. She loved him, even if she couldn’t say it to him yet. Beneath the reckless adventurer, the ruthless opportunist, was a sensitive man, a fair man, a man who wanted to protect her. She had to accept that she wasn’t fighting this battle alone any more.
Lifting on tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his, putting all the love and trust she could into the kiss. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ she said, before leaving the room.
But as the doors closed behind her, she caught a glimpse of her father’s expression as he directed his attention back to Theo, the admiration in his gaze unmistakeable. And she couldn’t control the awful feeling of déjà vu.
And the fear that she was about to be betrayed again, by a man she trusted.
‘I salute you, Caras. I see you have done what I failed to do—and brought my daughter to heel at last.’
‘Don’t talk about her as if she’s a dog,’ Theo shot back, his stomach revolting as nausea scoured his throat, sickened by her father’s smug expression—and the contempt in his eyes for his own flesh and blood.
He’d met ruthless men before. Men who had no ties, no loyalty, no qualms about stamping on the weak—dammit, he’d been at the mercy of some of Athens’ worst criminals and lowlifes.
He had even considered himself one of their number as a boy.
But he’d never met a man he despised more than this bastard.
An image flashed into his head, of the way Xander had held his tiny daughter on that video call—with such care, such tenderness, such pride… Prince Andreas wasn’t a father, any more than his own father had been one, because being a father required more than biology. A lot more.