The Greek Wants a Wife. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ So far he’d thought it was a case of arrested development because Zoe had been born premature. But maybe not having a mother had brought on psychological problems that hadn’t been recognizable until now.

      “If she were your child, what would you do?”

      “Well, I think before I took her to a child psychologist, I’d find out if there’s a physiological problem that is preventing her from talking as much as she should. If so, maybe that’s what is frightening her.”

      “Where could I go for that kind of expertise?”

      “The Stillman Institute in New York City. Their clinic has some of the best speech therapists in the United States. I’d take my child there for an evaluation.”

      “I’ll look into it. Thank you for your suggestion and your help with Princess Zoe, Dr. Wyman. I appreciate your honesty. You leave the palace with my highest recommendation.”

      “Thank you, Your Highness. I hope you get answers soon. I’m very fond of her.”

      So am I.

      After Dr. Wyman left, Alex checked his watch. By the time he’d had lunch with the head of the hospital association, the clinic in New York would be open. Alex would call and speak to the director.

      Dottie Richards had never ridden in a helicopter before. After her jet had touched down in Athens, Greece, she was told it was just a short journey to Hellenica.

      The head of the Stillman Speech Institute had picked her to handle an emergency that had arisen. Apparently there was an important little four-year-old girl who needed diagnostic testing done ASAP. A temporary visa had been issued for Dottie to leave the country without having to wait the normal time for a passport.

      For security reasons, she hadn’t learned the identity of the little girl until she was met at the helicopter pad in Athens by a palace spokesman named Hector. Apparently the child was Princess Zoe, the only daughter of Prince Alexius Constantinides, a widower who was acting ruler of Hellenica.

      “Acting ruler, you say?”

      “Yes, madame. The heir apparent to the throne, Crown Prince Stasio, is out of the country on business. When he returns, he will be marrying Princess Beatriz. Their wedding is scheduled for July the fifth. At that time the dowager queen Desma, Princess Zoe’s great-grandmother, will relinquish the crown and Prince Stasio will become king of Hellenica.

      “In the meantime Prince Alexius is handling the daily affairs of state. He has provided his private helicopter so you can be given a sightseeing trip to the palace, located on the biggest island, also called Hellenica.”

      Dottie realized this was a privilege not many people were granted. “That’s very kind of him.” She climbed aboard and the helicopter took off, but the second it left the ground she grew dizzy and tried to fight it off. “Could you tell me what exactly is wrong with Princess Zoe?”

      “That’s a subject for you to discuss with the prince himself.”

      Uh-oh. “Of course.”

      Dottie was entering a royal world where silence was the better part of discretion. No doubt that was why Hector had been chosen for this duty. She wouldn’t guess the older man was the type to leave the royal household and write a book revealing the dark secrets of the centuries-old Constantinides family. Dottie admired his loyalty and would have told him so, but by then she was starting to experience motion sickness from the helicopter and was too nauseated to talk any more.

      Several years earlier, Dottie had seen pictures of the Constantinides brothers on various television news broadcasts. Both had playboy reputations, like so many royal sons. They’d been dark and attractive enough, but seen in the inside of a limo or aboard a royal yacht, it was difficult to get a real sense of their looks.

      Dottie had never been anywhere near a royal and knew nothing about their world except for their exposure in the media, which didn’t always reflect positively. But for an accident of birth, she could have been born a princess. Anyone could be. Royals were human beings after all. They entered the world, ate, slept, married and died like the rest of humanity. It was what they did, where they did it and how they did it that separated them from the masses.

      Raised by a single aunt, now deceased, who’d never married and had been a practical thinker, Dottie’s world hadn’t included many fairy tales. Though there’d been moments growing up when Dottie had been curious about being a queen or a princess. Now an unprecedented opportunity had arisen for her to find out what that was like.

      Dottie had seen and heard enough about royals involved in escapades and scandals to feel sorry for them. The trials of being an open target to the world had to be worse than those of a celebrity, whose popularity waxed strong for a time in the eyes of public adulation and curiosity, then waned out of sight.

      A royal stayed a royal forever and was scrutinized ad nauseum. A prince or princess couldn’t even be born or die without a crowd in attendance. But as Dottie had learned during an early period in her life, the trials of an ordinary human were sometimes so bad they drew unwanted attention from the public, too. Like with King George VI of England, her own severe stuttering problem had been an agony to endure. However, to be human and a royal at the same time placed one in double jeopardy.

      At the age of twenty-nine and long since free of her former speech problem, Dottie loved her anonymity. In that sense she felt compassion for the little princess she hadn’t even met yet. The poor thing was already under a microscope and would remain there for all the days of life she was granted. Whether she had a speech problem or something that went deeper, word would get out.

      One day when the motherless princess was old enough to understand, she’d learn the world was talking about her and would never leave her alone. If she had a physical or a noticeable psychological problem, the press would be merciless. Dottie vowed in her heart she’d do whatever possible to help the little girl, if it were in her power.

      But at the moment the helicopter trip was playing havoc with her stomach and the lovely sightseeing trip had been wasted on her. The second they landed and she was shown to her quarters in the glistening white royal palace, she lost any food she’d eaten and went straight to bed.

      It was embarrassing, but when she was green around the gills and unable to rally, nothing except a good night’s sleep would help her to recover. When her business was finished here and she left the country to go back to the States, she would take a flight from Hellenica’s airport to Athens before boarding a flight to New York. No more helicopter rides.

      Alex eyed his ailing, widowed grandmother, whose silvery hair was still thick at eighty-five. She tired more easily these days and kept to her apartment. Alex knew she was more than ready for Stasio to come home and officially take the worries of the monarchy from her shoulders.

      No one awaited Stasio’s return with more eagerness than Alex. When his brother had left on the first of April, he’d promised to be home by mid-May, yet it was already the thirtieth with his wedding only five weeks away. Alex needed out of his temporary responsibilities to spend more time with Zoe. He’d built up his hopes that this speech therapist could give him definitive answers. It would be a step in the right direction; his daughter was growing unhappier with each passing day.

      “Thank you for breakfast,” he said in Greek. “If you two will excuse me, I have some business, but I’ll be back.” He kissed his petite daughter, who was playing with her roll instead of eating it. “Be good for Yiayia.”

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