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formidable amongst the world’s elite, had emphasised as nothing else could the huge difference between them.
    In New Zealand his heritage and position hadn’t seemed so important. He’d always been dominant, that formidable inbuilt air of confidence more intimidating than arrogance could ever be. No one, least of all his New Zealand relatives, had been surprised when the business enterprise he’d set up with Kelt had turned into an empire with ramifications all over the world.
    But seeing him in Carathia had added another dimension to his depth and compelling authority, giving him a mystique based on his people’s affection and respect and trust.
    Yes, she’d made the right—the only—decision. She wasn’t going to waste her life longing for a man who could never be hers.
    Shivering a little, she eased out of her dress, climbed into pyjamas and got into bed. Normally she read for a while, but nothing about the book she’d brought with her appealed, so she turned off the lamp and courted sleep.
    An hour later, still wide awake, she got out of bed and padded across to her window, pulling back the drape to gaze down across the city. Although the lights had dimmed, the Carathians were still celebrating their ruler’s coronation with gusto. She could hear singing, and recognised the sad beauty of the folk tune. Clearly it meant something important to the people of Carathia.
    A sense of aloneness chilled her. Gerd belonged here in his palace above the city, and Kelt and Hani too, and Alex, although he possessed no royal blood, fitted easily into this gathering of the world’s elite and powerful.
    Rosie Matthews, unemployed, from New Zealand didn’t.
    Even the moon, she realised suddenly as she stared at it, was different—back to front from the one that beamed down on the other side of the world.
    â€˜So what?’ she said into the night air, fragrant with scents she didn’t recognise. ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself and at least get some rest.’
    She must have slept for a few hours, because she dreamed—tangled images that had faded by the time she woke—but confronting her reflection the next morning made her inhale sharply and then apply cosmetics to banish the only too obvious signs of a restless night. Breakfast was served in her room, interrupted by a visit from Hani, who eyed her with concern.
    Rosie pre-empted any query by saying firmly, ‘I was too excited to sleep much last night—just like an over-wrought kid after a birthday party.’
    â€˜Tell me about it,’ Hani said in the resigned tone of a mother who’d had to deal with just that situation. ‘But it was a great day, wasn’t it?’
    â€˜It’s been a fabulous week,’ Rosie said in her airiest voice. ‘Like living in the Middle Ages, only with bathrooms and electricity.’
    Hani laughed, but the glance she gave Rosie was shrewd. ‘You say that as though you’ll be glad to get back home.’
    â€˜I will, but I’ll never forget Carathia.’ Or the man who now ruled it.
    Hani said, ‘I’d like to go straight to New Zealand, but Kelt has a meeting with the head honchos from Alex’s firm in London, so we’re going there first.’ She gave a swift, lovely smile. ‘I’ll be interested to see how our little Rafi enjoys big cities.’
    Hani was right—the sooner she got away from here the better, Rosie thought mordantly as she waved the family party off later that morning. Then she could stop being such an idiot.
    Once back home she wouldn’t spend wakeful nights wondering when Gerd was going to announce his engagement to Princess Serina.
    By telling herself bracingly that it was completely stupid to feel as though her life was coming to an end, she managed to give Gerd a glittering smile when they met later that morning. In her most accusing voice, she said, ‘Alex tells me you killed