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Although his engagement was now an open secret, the official announcement would bring his grandfather peace. That more than anything was Helios’s overriding concern. He didn’t like to think what it would bring for his own state of mind.

Catalina wouldn’t return to Agon until the Gala. He’d dissuaded her from coming any earlier, using his busyness as an excuse to keep her away. A shudder ran through him as he recalled her obvious disappointment when he’d left Monte Cleure a day early. When he’d said goodbye she’d raised her chin in anticipation of his kiss. The most he’d been able to do was brush his lips against her cheek. She’d smelled fantastic, and she’d looked beautiful, but he might as well have been dead from the waist down for all she did for him.

Catalina knew what she was marrying into, he reminded himself. She had no illusions that their union     would ever be about love. She’d assured him of that herself. But now he wondered if mutual respect would be enough when he couldn’t even bring himself to kiss her.

He stood in the hotel lobby, personally greeting his staff and their partners. In all, over one hundred people were expected. He always enjoyed seeing their transformation, enjoyed seeing the back-room staff, who tended to live in jeans and baggy tops, and the front-line staff, who wore smart uniforms, all dressed to the nines in smart suits and cocktail dresses.

As each person entered he welcomed them with an embrace while Talia, his private secretary, handed them all an envelope.

Soon the lobby was full and waiting staff with trays of champagne were circulating. Conversation was stilted, as it always was at the beginning of such evenings, but he knew that wouldn’t last long. Once everyone had had a drink or two their inhibitions would fall away and they would enjoy themselves properly. They all worked so hard they deserved to let their hair down.

Through the lobby’s wide glass doors he saw two figures approach, their heads bent close together, laughing. His heart jolted, making him lose the thread of the conversation he’d struck up with one of the tour guides. Closer they came, until they reached the doors and showed their identification to the guards on duty, who inspected them closely before standing to one side to admit them.

The doors opened automatically and in they walked.

He greeted Greta first, with the same kind of embrace he’d shared with everyone else. She returned it warmly, gushing about how excited she was. And then it was time to greet Amy.

The same smile she’d entered the lobby with stayed fixed on her face, but her eyes told a different story.

His throat ran dry.

He’d seen her dressed up on a few occasions before: when he’d taken her out on dates away from the palace, and last weekend for her ‘date’ with someone else, but tonight...

Theos. She looked stunning.

She wore a sleeveless navy blue chiffon dress that floated just above her knees, with silver diamond-shaped beads layered along the hem and across the high round neckline. On her feet were simple high-heeled black shoes that showcased her slender legs. She’d left her dark blonde hair loose, so that it fell across her shoulders and down her back. Her large taupe eyes were ringed with dark grey eyeshadow and her delectable lips were painted nude.

He couldn’t drag his eyes away.

For what had to be the first time ever he found himself at a loss for words.

Judging by the expression in her wide eyes, pain emanating from them as she gazed back at him, she was struggling to form words on her own tongue too.

It was Greta who broke the silence, with a shout of, ‘Champagne!’ She grinned at Helios, slipped her arm through Amy’s and whisked her off to find them a glass each.

‘Thanks,’ Amy muttered the second they were out of his earshot. Her heart was hammering so hard she could swear she was suffering from palpitations.

‘You’re welcome. Here,’ said Greta, thrusting a glass into Amy’s hand. ‘Drink this.’

‘I’ve had enough already.’ They’d had a couple of shots of ouzo each in Greta’s flat, before the car had arrived for them, and while not drunk she definitely felt a little light-headed.

Greta shook her head. ‘You’re going to need a lot more than this to get through the night without throwing yourself at him.’

‘I’m not going to throw myself at him.’

‘You could have fooled me from the way you were just staring at each other.’

‘We’re over,’ Amy stated flatly.

‘So you keep telling yourself.’

‘I mean it.’

‘I know you do. The problem is I don’t think your heart believes it.’ Greta squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll stop you from entering the big bad wolf’s clutches again.’

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