‘But I’m a fashion editor,’ she said and to her horror, she heard herself beginning to wail. ‘I can’t do this!’

‘Your staff are waiting,’ Nikos said. He was holding Christa’s hand. Standing apart. ‘Set Oscar down-hold him by the leash,’ he told Nicky. ‘Your mother needs to meet the staff, and if you intend to live here then you need to meet them, too.’

‘Am I going to live here?’ Nicky gazed around in awe. ‘Cool!’

‘It is cool,’ Nikos said gravely. ‘I’m not sure if your mother thinks so.’

‘I don’t think so.’ She was fighting for control. She was taking in the crumbling façade of a once magnificent palace. The derelict gardens. Twenty people lined up to see what she would do.

‘Do I have a choice?’ she muttered.

‘No.’

‘Fine, then,’ she snapped. She was being thrown in at the deep end, like it or not. She had no choice but to swim. ‘I can be a princess if I need to.’

He smiled at that. ‘Of course you can.’

‘Okay,’ she muttered.

‘Well, then…’

‘Well, then.’ She took a deep breath. She braced her shoulders and stepped forward. She ignored the sensation of Nikos at her back, watching her. Judging her?

‘Hi,’ she said, in her best managing-the-staff voice. A voice she hadn’t quite perfected. ‘You know who I am. I probably should remember all of you but it’s been almost ten years since I’ve been on the island so you need to forgive me. You’ll also need to forgive me if I don’t get things right-the things I’m supposed to do. But three things I do know, and I might as well say them now. First, not one of you will lose your job for anything except incompetence or dishonesty. Not while I’m here. Second, your salary will stay the same until I have time to review it and even then it won’t drop. And finally…I hate your uniforms. Hate ’em. Who’s interested in giving me suggestions for change?’

She was fabulous. She was just as he’d always imagined she’d be.