MAID FOR A PRINCE: (Book 1) (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way) by Robyn Grady Read Free Book Online

at the same time she spotted the food.
    “You didn’t have to bring that out,” she said, coming nearer.
    “I’d have to do more if you weren’t here.”
    She popped a plump olive in her mouth but rather than take a seat, she moved to the balcony rail. He followed.
    “I like that music,” she said.
    “It’s a Cretan lyra.”
    “I’ve heard it before. A man sometimes plays one in Alexio’s taverna.” She faced the sea. “I wish I could play an instrument. I’m hopeless at reading those black dots and squiggles. Reading history was always much more fun.” Leaning on the rail, her attention shifted from the peaceful view to meet his gaze again. “What did you study in college?”
    He’d been examining her profile—pert nose, dimpled chin, the slender slope of her neck. Now he refocused.
    “I went to university in England. Studied business. Economics. History too. The palace library on the main island has some interesting volumes about these parts.”
    She nodded but didn’t presume to ask if that was an invitation to check out the library books firsthand, which was good because seeing her in this moonlight, in that dress, his thoughts were a little scrambled. He might have said yes.
    He had enjoyed their evenings together, listening to the sea and hearing her chat on about her life in America and how fascinating she found this part of the world. Darius found her fascinating. She was easy to talk to. She made him laugh. She helped him relax.
    He simply liked her being around.
    If Helene knew, she might blame his interest in her on the fertility figurine and her mesmerizing powers. Myth said that the goddess could inspire deep—even mindless—desire between a couple, particularly here on this island. But he had no intention of losing his heart, even if he had thought about testing some physical waters. Tonight, the idea of bringing Helene close was way too tempting.
    “I found a book in the study here,” she was saying. “A classic written in English.”
    “My mother loved to read.”
    Helene was quick to add, “I was careful to put it back exactly where I found it.”
    “You’re welcome to anything here, Helene.”
    “You’re not worried I’ll destroy something?”
    He gave her a censuring look. The only thing he was concerned about—the goddess—was safely locked away.
    She gazed out over the slopes. “I recognize the olive trees and pines, and all the fruit trees in the orchard. But what’s that big green one over there?” She nodded at the nearby monster.
    “A hickory.” Darius leaned both forearms on the rail. “There’s a Greek myth surrounding them. The story grew over time but the original version involves a woman named Carya.”
    Helene thought for a moment. “I don’t recognize the name.”
    “Among other things, Carya was a virgin.”
    She bit her lip. “Not the sacrificial type, I hope.” 
    “Not exactly.” He shifted to face her. “Dionysus, son of Apollo, visited King Leon and fell passionately in love with one of his three daughters,” he explained.
    “Carya.”
    He nodded. “Dionysus left the court but when he returned for her, Carya’s sisters tried to stop her from leaving with him. As punishment for their jealousy, he drove the sisters mad. Then he and Carya escaped together. Later, when she died, Dionysus turned his beloved into a tree.”
    “Why?”
    As Helene gazed out at the hickory, he became more aware of the rise and fall of silk draped over her breasts. “I suppose a tree can still breathe,” he said. “Can still feel.”
    A breeze picked up. Nearby, a torch threw sparks and Helene moved back. To shield her, Darius skirted around to stand close on her other side.
    “It’s said that when Dionysus and Carya first kissed,” he went on, “all the birds in Greece began to sing.”
    The silk of her dress, moved by the breeze, fluttered back against her body. Every curve and peak beneath was thrown into tantalizing relief. When his gaze met hers