by Leanne Banks
His heart swelled at the thought of Bridget bringing him food, reaching out to him. Taking the plate, he walked downstairs expecting to see the fresh, sexy face of Bridget Devereaux.
Instead he was greeted by Marshall.
“Hey, dude,” he said. “How’s it going?”
“Okay,” he said. “The twins?”
“Down for a nap,” Marshall said.
“Bridget?”
Marshall lifted a brow and smoothed back his hair with his hand. “She was here?”
“Yeah. She fixed me breakfast and a sandwich for lunch,” Ryder said, frowning.
“Breakfast,” Marshall repeated.
Reluctant to reveal details about his relationship with Bridget, he shrugged. “She showed up early. You should know. You told her about Dr. Walters. I was working on his eulogy.”
Marshall winced. “Sorry, bro. I’m guessing she left a while ago. The sitter didn’t say anything about her.”
Ryder’s gut tightened. “Okay, I guess she had other things to do.”
“Well, she is a princess,” Marshall said.
“Yeah,” Ryder said.
“You’re starting to fall for her, aren’t you?” Marshall asked.
“Hell no.”
Chapter Seven
“Dr. Walters was more than a brilliant doctor. He was a father figure to many of us who’d never known a father. He was an advocate at the same time that he demanded the best of every resident who crossed his path. He was the best man I’ve ever known,” Ryder said and glanced at the large group who had gathered to remember Dr. Walters.
His gaze skimmed the crowd and stumbled over a classy young woman wearing a black hat and black dress. Bridget. Her presence gave him a potent shot of strength.
He continued with the rest of his eulogy, then made his way toward Bridget. The seat beside her was empty. Her eyes widened as he stepped in from the aisle.
“Thanks,” he whispered, sitting down and clasping her hand between them.
“There was no other choice than to be here for you,” she whispered.
His heart swelled at her words and he squeezed her hand, trying to remember the last time someone had been there for him like this. No expectation, just support and some kind of emotion close to love. Yet it couldn’t be love, he told himself.
Her hand, however, sure felt great inside his.
A couple hours later, Ryder and Bridget joined Mrs. Walters for an afternoon meal. Dr. Walters’s widow seemed to have aged a decade within the last year.
“You were his favorite,” she said to Ryder, her eyes full of pain as she smiled. “He wasn’t supposed to have a favorite, but he did.”
Ryder’s heart squeezed tight. “He was the father I never had. He challenged me and empathized with me. He made me want to be my best.”
Mrs. Walters nodded. “He was an inspiring man.”
“I’m lucky that he was my mentor,” Ryder said.
Mrs. Walters nodded and frowned. “He was a wonderful, wonderful man. But we never had children. Our family life was always dependent on his schedule.” She paused. “If there was one thing he might have changed before he…went away…” She swallowed over her grief. “I think he may have spent more time with his family. Me. His brothers and sister. Until he began to fade, he didn’t realize how important relationships were.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then shrugged. “I’m rambling.” She patted Ryder’s hand. “Never forget that you are more than that hospital. Never,” she said.
Shaken by her fervent expression, he took a quick breath. “I won’t,” he said.
Within a half hour, he escorted Bridget to his car. “Come back to my house,” he said.
She paused a half beat, then nodded. “Yes.”
Moments later, they walked into his house. The sitter sat on the couch reading a book. “Hi,” she said. “Everything go okay? The twins are sleeping and they’ve been no trouble.”
“Good to hear it,” he said. “I’m gonna change my clothes. Will you be here for a while?”
The sitter nodded. “I’m scheduled to be here till six. Then I have a class.”
“Thanks,” he said and turned to Bridget. “There’s a place I want to take you.”
“If it involves hiking or swimming, I’ll need to change clothes,” she warned him.
“You’ll be okay.”
Seven minutes later, he pulled in front of a waterfall fountain. Man-made but spectacular.
“It’s beautiful,” she said as they walked close to the fall and lifted her face to the spray. “Have you been here often?”
“Yes,” he said, squeezing her hand.
“I can see why,” she concluded and closed her eyes. “Whenever I have a few minutes near water, it reminds me of Chantaine. For all my complaining about being chained there the last year, I can’t deny the effect water has on me. Makes me wonder if I have a gill somewhere. What about you?” she asked. “You’ve been landlocked most of your life, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but I find that spending some time near water, and I mean more than a shower or swimming pool, balances me out. Especially if something is bothering me.”
“It’s natural that Dr. Walters’s passing would upset you,” she said.
“It’s more than that,” he said. “Now that he is really gone, his position with the residents will need to be filled.”
“You want it very much, don’t you?” she asked.
Ryder felt torn in two completely opposing directions. “I feel a huge responsibility. The other doctor who would want the job comes off as callous. He doesn’t care about helping residents with problems. His first instinct would be to cut them from the program. Dr. Walters probed deeper before making that kind of decision and he made himself available to residents for conference. The goal at our hospital is to approach the physician as a complete person so that he or she, in turn, treats the patient as a complete person.”
“The doctors in your program are very fortunate to receive that kind of benefit, but based on what Dr. Walters’s wife said, it must be difficult for the adviser to strike the balance as a complete person.” She sighed. “In a different way, serving our country as royals can be an all-consuming proposition. Makes you wonder if there’s such a thing as balance outside of a yoga class.”
Her yoga reference made him smile. “How is it you can make me feel better on such a dark day?”
“One of my many delightful skills.” She glanced again at the fountain. “Have you ever wanted to jump in one of these and get completely wet?”
“Yes,” he said. “Where I was raised we had a small fountain in the town in front of a bank. When I was a little boy, I jumped in it and stomped around. Got a paddling that kept me from sitting down for a week.”
“Was it worth it?” she asked.
“Before and during, yes. Afterward no.”
“I almost took the plunge once in Italy, but I knew I would be arrested and there would be a big fuss.”
“So you restrained yourself,” he said.
She frowned. “Yes, but one day. Maybe soon after I’m able to bring back some doctors to Chantaine and I take my long vacation in Italy…”
“Is that why you’re in such a rush to import doctors?”
“Trust me, I’ve earned this break. Even Stefan agrees, but he and I both know Chantaine needs doctors. After my sister-in-law was injured so horribly while saving my life, it became even more clear. I still—”
The darkness in his eyes surprised him. “You don’t still hold yourself responsible, do you?”
She paused a half beat too long. “Of course not. The gang stampeded her. Even security was taken by surprise,” she said as if by rote.
“But you still feel responsible,” he said.
“She wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t begged her to join me,” she said. “For someone to put her life on the line for me, and it wasn’t as if she had taken an oath to protect me. She just did it because of who she is.”
&nb
sp; “And because of who you are,” he said.
“Now that’s a stretch,” she said. “I spend a lot of time at charity events and school and business openings. It’s not as if I’m in a research laboratory finding cures for dreadful diseases.”
“No, but you’re helping raise money for those re search scientists, and someone needs to do it. Don’t underestimate your importance. You inspire people to give more than they usually would.”
“Perhaps,” she said, but clearly wasn’t convinced. “Now I just need to find a way to inspire doctors to come to Chantaine. At least I’ve already got one specialist willing to hold seminars,” she said, then shook her head. “But today isn’t about me or Chantaine. It’s about you, Ryder. How else can I help you with your grief?” she asked in a solemn tone.
His mind raced in a totally different direction down a path filled with hot kisses and hot bodies pressed against each other. He couldn’t help but remember the sight of her naked body in his bed. He couldn’t help but want her again.
Her eyes widened as if she could read his mind. “You’re not serious,” she said. “Men. Sex is the solution for everything.”
“There are worse ways to deal with grief,” he said.
“True, but with the sitter at your house, it would be difficult to indulge that particular solution,” she said.
“You’re right,” he said. “I should get back to the hospital. I canceled my schedule for the rest of the day, but making up for a lost day is hell.”
“Absolutely not,” she said, then bit her lip. “I suppose we could go to my suite.”
His gut twisted at the prospect of holding her again. He didn’t understand his draw to Bridget. All he knew was that his life had seemed full of darkness and when he was with her, he felt lighter. With his demanding schedule, he felt as if he needed to snatch whatever stolen moments he could with her. “That’s an invitation I can’t imagine turning down,” he said, sliding his fingers over a silky strand of her hair.
Her breath hitched and he found the response gratifying and reassuring. He was damn glad to know he wasn’t the only one feeling this crazy attraction.
After an afternoon spent drowning his devils in Bridget’s bed, a cell-phone alarm sounded.
“Time to go,” Bridget said, then rubbed her mouth against his cheek and pulled away.
He caught her just before she rose from the bed. “What’s the rush?”
“It’s five-thirty. The sitter will be leaving at six,” she said with a soft smile and pulled on a robe.
“Damn, it’s that late?” He glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed to confirm her announcement and shook his head. He raked his hand through his hair. “Hey, come back to the house with me. We can get something delivered.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I have a previous commitment this evening. I’m attending a forum to promote the prevention of gang violence. As I’m sure you can imagine, this is a cause near and dear to my heart. The Dallas district attorney will escort me,” she said.
Ryder’s gut gave a vicious twist. He’d heard the current D.A. was quite the lady’s man. “I’m guessing Corbin made those arrangements,” he said, unable to keep his disapproval from his tone.
“I believe he did. I’m only using a part-time assistant while I’m in Texas, but the arrangements went through her. She left me a dossier on him, but I’ve been too busy to scan it.”
“I can tell you what you need to know,” he said rising from the bed. “Aiden Corbin was elected two years ago and is a hound dog when it comes to women.”
“What exactly is a hound dog?” she asked.
Ryder scowled. “It’s a man who will do just about anything to get women into his bed.”
“Is that so?” she said and shot a sideways glance at him. “It seems to me I’ve met several hound dogs here in Dallas.”
“Hey, I’m no hound dog. I’m a hardworking doctor trying to take care of my brother’s twin babies.”
“It’s really hard for me to buy your defense with you standing naked in front of me,” she said, her glance falling over him in a hot wave that made it hard for him to resist pulling her right back into bed.
“I’m not used to being with a woman who has to fight off my competitors with a stick,” he said.
She blinked. “Competitors,” she echoed. “That would suggest I view these men on the same level as you, which I don’t.”
“What level is that?”
She paused then frowned. “Different. Besides, I don’t have to beat the men off with a stick. And you must remember their primary attraction to me is due to my title and perhaps the erroneous view that I’m loaded.”
“You underestimate your appeal.”
“Hmm,” she said. “Minus my title, I’m extremely average.”
“You’re wrong,” he retorted. “You’re beautiful and talented. You’re…magic,” he said, surprising himself with his words. Even though they were all true, they weren’t the kinds of things he would usually say.
Bridget paused. Her eyes shimmering with emotion, she threw herself against him and wrapped her arms around him. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I’m not sure I agree, but it’s quite wonderful that you would actually think those things about me. Thank you, Ryder. I will cherish your words forever,” she said, then pulled away.
Something about her thank-you reminded him that his relationship with Bridget was temporary. That was fine with him. Lord knew, with everything on his plate, he didn’t have time for a real relationship with a woman. For that matter, he’d never taken time to have a real relationship with a woman. He’d always been too busy with his career. So this relationship was no different, he told himself, but something about that didn’t settle right with him.
That night, after he’d tucked the twins into their cribs and watched the rest of the ball game, he half glanced at the local news. Just as he was about to switch the channel, a video of Bridget and the D.A. appeared.
“Her Royal Highness, Bridget Devereaux of Chantaine, accompanied Dallas’s district attorney, Aiden Corbin, to a special discussion at the Dallas Forum tonight. Reporter Charles Pine reports.”
“Your Highness, welcome to Dallas. I’m curious, how can a small, idyllic island like Chantaine have a gang problem?”
“My country is quite idyllic, and we’re quite fortunate that we have only occasionally had problems with gangs. Still, there have been incidents, and we are always exploring ways to prevent such problems in the future. Mr. Corbin has generously offered to present his experiences and knowledge by visiting our country in the future.”
“Sounds like a rough gig, Mr. Corbin,” the reporter joked.
Corbin gave a wide smile that looked lecherous to Ryder. “The princess is being very generous with her public and charitable appearances while she visits our city. The least I can do is to share my expertise in return.”
Ryder bet the D.A. wanted to share more than his expertise. His stomach burned from the pizza he’d eaten earlier. His cell phone rang and he saw the caller ID belonged to Marshall.
Ryder answered the call, but Marshall started talking before he could open his mouth.
“Hey, what’s your babe doing with our slimeball D.A.?”
“It’s just business,” he said, grinding his teeth at the same time.
“Business with the horn dog of the century?” Marshall asked. “If she was my woman, I wouldn’t let her anywhere near Corbin.”
Ryder bit his tongue. He’d had the same strange primitive reaction, but he had to contain himself.
“Whoa,” Marshall said after the short silence. “You didn’t say anything. Does that mean she’s fair game? Because I gotta tell you that’s one sweet piece of—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Ryder said. “With a sharp knife, I could disembowel you in less than sixty seconds.”
Marshall gave a dirty chuckle. “Gotcha. I was just kidding. I’m focused on someone else. I could tell something was cookin
g between the two of you. The way you act about her. The way she acts about you.”
“What do you mean the way she acts about me?”
“Well, she’s busted her royal ass trying to make sure your boys have got good care,” Marshall said. “Speaking of good care, I took a bucket of chicken to your nanny the other day. Seemed the charitable thing to do.”
“You took food to Suzanne?” Ryder said. “I told you to leave her alone.”
“It was just chicken. She’s been recovering, for God’s sake. Give the poor girl a break,” Marshall said.
Ryder narrowed his eyes. “You don’t deliver chicken unless you’re hoping for something for yourself.”
“I’m insulted,” Marshall said. “I can be a nice guy. Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’ll just tell you that you might want to keep an eye on your little princess because Aiden Corbin is known for poaching. G’night, Mr. M.D.”
Ryder opened his mouth to reply, but he knew Marshall had clicked off the call. Marshall had always called him Mr. M.D. when he thought Ryder was getting too big for his britches. Trouble was, what Marshall had said about Corbin was right. The other trouble was Ryder had no real claim on Bridget, so the only thing left for him to do was stew. No way, he told himself. There was no good reason to stew over a temporary woman. He’d never done it before, and he wasn’t going to start now.
Bridget left two messages on Ryder’s cell during the next two days, but he hadn’t answered. She worried that something may have happened. What if there’d been a problem with the nanny? Had his workload tripled as a result of Dr. Walters’s death? She already knew he’d been reluctant to touch base with her when things weren’t going well, so she decided to make a quick trip to his office at the hospital.
He was in a meeting with a resident, but just as she started to leave a message with his assistant, the resident exited his office.
“I’ll let him know you’re here,” his assistant said.