CHAPTER ONE

      SO THIS WAS what freedom felt like.

      Raoul de Poitier sucked in a deep breath as he paused to get his first proper glimpse of the view he’d climbed about two thousand steps to find.

      He had the whole world at his feet.

      Well...he had what looked like a large part of the Amalfi coast of the Mediterranean down there, anyway. Far, far below he could pick out the tiny blue patch that was the swimming pool on the roof of the hotel Tramonto d’Oro where he’d stayed last night. Beside that was the tiled dome and spire of the ancient church against the terracotta tiles and white houses of the small coastal town of Praiano.

      Beyond the village, the waters of the Mediterranean stretched as far as the horizon, a breathtakingly sapphire blue as the sunlight gentled its way to dusk. Somewhere out there was his homeland—the European principality of Les Iles Dauphins.

      Another deep breath was released in what felt like a sigh, and with it came a pang of...what... homesickness? Guilt, perhaps?

      His grandfather was ill. His heart was failing and it was time for him to step down from ruling his land. To hand the responsibility to the next-in-line to the throne.

      His grandmother would be anxious. Not only about her beloved husband but about the grandson she’d raised as her own child after the tragic death of his parents.

      ‘I don’t understand, Raoul. A holiday...yes. Time to prepare yourself for what is to come. For your marriage... But alone? Incognito? That’s not who you are.’

      ‘Maybe that’s what I need to find out, Mamé. And this is the last chance I will ever get.’

      No. The pang wasn’t guilt. He needed this time to centre himself for what was to come. To be sure that he had what it took to put aside his own desires if that was what was required to protect and nurture a whole nation, albeit a tiny one. He was thirty-two years old but he hadn’t been really tested yet. Oh, there’d been formal duties that had got in the way of private pleasures, and he had always had to curb any desire to push the boundaries of behaviour that might be frowned on by others. But, within that reasonably relaxed circumference, he’d been able to achieve the career that had been top of his chosen list—as a helicopter pilot in his country’s first-rate rescue service. And he’d had his share of a seemingly infinite supply of beautiful women.

      All that was about to change, however. The boundaries would shrink to contain him in a very tight space. Almost every minute of every day would be accounted for.

      He had always known it would happen. He just wasn’t sure how ready he was to accept it. Somehow, he needed to find that out. To test himself, by himself, which was why this had to be in a place where he knew no one and no one knew who he was.

      Was it homesickness, perhaps? Because he was feeling a new and rather extraordinary sensation of being alone? No. He’d dealt with homesickness many years ago when he’d been sent to the best schools that Europe had to offer and, while the love of his family and homeland would always draw him back and enfold him, he loved to travel.

      It was relief, that was what it was. He had won this time. A reprieve from thinking about the overwhelming responsibility