It pleased him when a minute later he heard footsteps and watched Dottie hurrying towards the suite with another book in her hand.
“Alex—” she cried in surprise as he stepped away from the paneled wall.
He liked it that she’d said his name of her own volition. “I wondered when you would finally break down.”
Dottie smoothed the hair away from her flushed cheek. Her eyes searched his. Ignoring his comment she said, “Did Zoe have another nightmare?”
He moved closer. “No. But she’s growing more and more upset when you’re not with us. Why didn’t you come today? I want the truth.”
“I told you I had work.”
“Then how come it was reported that you went jogging and climbed Mount Pelos, instead of staying in your room? Were you able to see the sail of my boat from the top?”
A hint of pink crept into her cheeks. She had been watching for him. “I saw a lot of sailboats.”
“The security staff is agog about the way you spent your day. Not one visit to a designer shop. No shopping frenzy. You undoubtedly wore them to a frazzle with your jogging, but it was good for them.”
A small laugh escaped her throat. He liked it that she didn’t take herself seriously.
“I’ll ask the question again. Why didn’t you come with us this afternoon?”
“Surely you know why. Because I’m worried over her growing attachment to me.”
“So am I, but that’s not the only reason you kept your distance from me today. Are you afraid of being on a boat? Don’t you know how to swim?”
“Don’t be silly,” she whispered.
“How else am I to get some honesty out of you? It’s apparent you have a problem with me, pure and simple. My earlier reputation in life as Prince Alexius may have prejudiced you against me, but that was a long time ago. I’m a man now and a father the world knows nothing about. Which of those roles alarms you most?”
She folded her arms. “Neither of them,” she said in a quiet voice.
His brows met in a frown. “Then what terrible thing do you imagine would have happened to you today if you’d come with us?”
“I’d rather not talk about it, even if you are a prince.” She’d said that “even if you are a prince” thing before. After retaining his gaze for a moment, she looked away. “How did your afternoon go with Zoe?”
“Good, but it would have been better if you’d been along. She won’t go to sleep until you say good-night. Tonight she fired Sofia.”
“What?”
“It’s true. She doesn’t want a nanny unless it’s you. To save poor Hector the trouble of having to summon you every night, why don’t you plan to pop in on her at bedtime. In the end it will save my sanity, too.”
She slowly nodded. “Since I won’t be here much longer, I can do that.”
“Let’s not talk about your leaving, not when you barely got here.”
“I—I’ll go in now.” Her voice faltered.
“Thank you.” For several reasons, he wasn’t through with her yet, but it could wait until she’d said good-night to his daughter. Alex followed her into the bedroom. Zoe was sitting up in her bed holding her baby. She glowed after she saw Dottie.
“Hi, Zoe. If I read you a story, will you go to sleep?”
“Yes. Will you sit on the bed?”
“I can read better on this chair.” Dottie drew it close to the bed and sat down. Once again Alex was hooked by Dottie’s charm as she read the tale about a butterfly that had lost a wing and needed to find it.
She was a master teacher, but it dawned on him she always kept her distance with Zoe. No hugs or kisses. No endearments. Being the total professional, she knew her place. Ironically his daughter didn’t want hugs or kisses from her nannies who tried to mother her, but he knew she was waiting for both from Dottie.
Zoe wasn’t the only one.
The second she’d gone to sleep, Dottie tiptoed out of the room. Alex caught up to her in the hall. She couldn’t seem to get back to her suite fast enough. They walked through the corridors in silence. As she reached out to open the door to her apartment, he grasped her upper arms and turned her around.
They were close enough he could smell her peach fragrance. She was out of breath, but she was in too good a shape for the small exertion of walking to produce that reaction. “Invite me in,” he whispered, sensing how withdrawn she’d become with him. “I want an answer from you and prefer that we don’t talk out here in the hall where we can be observed.”
“I’m sorry, but we have nothing to talk about. I’m very tired.”
“Too tired to tell me what has you so frightened, you’re trembling?”
A pained expression crossed over her face. “I wish I hadn’t come to Hellenica. If I’d known what was awaiting me, I would have refused.”
“For the love of heaven, why? If I’ve done something unforgivable in your eyes, it’s only fair you tell me.”
“Of course you haven’t.” She shook her head, but wouldn’t look at him. “This has to do with Zoe.”
“Because she keeps calling you Mommy?”
“That and much more.”
At a total loss, he let go of her with reluctance. “I don’t understand.”
She eased away from him. “Five years ago my husband and son were killed by a drunk driver in a horrific crash.” Tears glistened on her cheeks. “I lost the great loves of my life. Cory was Zoe’s age when he died.”
Alex was aghast.
“He had an articulation problem like hers, only he couldn’t do his vowel sounds. I’d been working with him for a year with the help of a therapist, and he’d just gotten to the point where he could say Daddy plainly when—”
Obviously she was too choked up to say the rest. His eyes closed tightly for a moment. He remembered the pain in hers the other day.
“I’ve worked with all kinds of children, but Zoe is the only one who has ever reminded me of him. The other day when she laughed, it sounded like Cory.”
“You didn’t let on.” His voice grated.
“I’m thankful for that.” He thought he heard a little sob get trapped in her throat. “It’s getting harder to be around her without breaking down. That’s why I didn’t go with you today. I—I thought I’d gotten past my grief,” she stammered, “but coming here has proven otherwise.”
He sucked in his breath. “You may wish you hadn’t come to Hellenica, but keep in mind you’re doing something for my daughter only you can do. Watching Zoe respond to your techniques has already caused me to stop grieving over her pain.
“No matter how much you’re still mourning your loss, doesn’t it make you feel good to be helping her the way you once helped your son? Wouldn’t your husband have done anything for your son if your positions were reversed?”
She looked away, moved by his logic. “Yes,” came the faint whisper, “but—”
“But what? Tell me everything.”
“It’s just that I’ve