The Doctor and the Princess

by Scarlet Wilson

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘That was until we hit Utah and the national parks. Oh, no, then he didn’t want to stay in a hotel. Then he wanted to camp and stare up at the starry sky at night.’

  ‘And did you?’

  Sullivan waved his hand. ‘Yeah. We bought the whole kit and caboodle. I’ve never felt ground so hard in my life and I’ve never seen rain like it. And by the next day? Neither of us could walk.’

  Gabrielle started laughing. It was clear from the way that he talked he’d had a good relationship with his father. She wished she could have seen them together. But as just as quickly as the joy had appeared in Sullivan’s eyes they shadowed over again.

  She’d seen that look before, when he’d mentioned casually that he hadn’t had a chance to pack up his father’s things back home in Oregon. It hadn’t seemed significant at the time, but now she was getting to know him a little better it felt a little off. Working with Sullivan had shown her he was incredibly organised.

  But even now he didn’t seem entirely anxious to go home. There had been no pre-booked flight to Oregon to cancel when she’d asked him to accompany her. And she got the feeling if he hadn’t been with her now, he might have answered Gibbs’s text about the next mission. How could she phrase the question that was burning inside her?

  She never got the chance because Sullivan nodded towards the old-fashioned picture house opposite the restaurant. It had a small poster on either side of the main doors advertising the latest action movie.

  ‘What’s with the place across the street?’

  She smiled. ‘The Regal? It’s a picture-house based in one of the oldest buildings in Mirinez. There have been lots of attempts to modernise it—all of them resisted.’ She couldn’t help but let out a laugh. She’d witnessed some of the fierce arguments about ‘dragging things into the twenty-first century’, but she had fond memories of the picture house. Even looking at it now spread a little warm glow through her body.

  ‘And they’ve all failed?’ Sullivan looked interested.

  ‘More or less. The electrics and plumbing have been modernised. The screen has been changed, but it’s still like walking into an old theatre rather than one of those cinema complexes. The chairs are original—a tiny bit uncomfortable and covered in dark red velvet.’

  ‘Just one screen?’

  ‘Just the one. And each film only plays for a week so if you miss it, you miss it.’

  ‘It’s kinda quaint.’

  She laughed again. ‘There’s a word I never thought I hear on Sullivan Darcy’s lips.’

  ‘Quaint? My dad used it, quite a lot actually. He must have picked it up when we stayed in England for a while.’

  He tapped his fingers on the table. ‘I guess if we want to see the latest action movie we’d better go in the next few days, then.’

  Gabrielle started to nod and then rolled her eyes. ‘We might have a problem.’

  ‘Why?’

  She held out her hands. ‘Look at this place. You said Arun had to book the whole place out so we could come to dinner. If he tried to book the cinema out for just us, the rest of Mirinez would probably riot.’

  ‘How about a private showing—could we arrange that?’

  She sighed. ‘Probably. But then we’d need to go in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning. It kind of takes the joy out of going to the cinema. You know, filing into your seat with your giant bag of popcorn and waiting for the lights to go down and hear the theme tune before the adverts start. There’d be no atmosphere.’

  Sullivan thought for a few seconds. ‘What if we go incognito?’

  ‘What?’ She hadn’t even thought of that.

  ‘You never did anything like that as a kid?’

  ‘Well, sure I did. But we only had one security guy and he was really for Andreas, not for me. I used to sneak out to places all the time.’

  ‘So...sneak out someplace with me?’ All of a sudden she felt around fifteen again. It was the oddest thrill. Sneaking out somewhere with the bad boy. But, then, Sullivan wasn’t really a bad boy, was he? It was just the way he said those words, almost as if it were a challenge.

  And she loved a challenge.

  She glanced over at the cinema. She’d love to go back there. She would. But as she watched the people milling around outside, a horrible black cloud of responsibility settled on her shoulders.

  It was automatic. The enormous list of things that still needed to be dealt with started running through her head. ‘I’d love to, but I still need to meet the owners of the mine, I need to check a trade agreement with another country, there’s dispute over a part of our boundary—our fishermen haven’t apparently been following EU fishing regulations—there are issues around some of our exports. We have applications from six major new businesses that want to invest in Mirinez—’

  ‘Whoa!’ Sullivan held up his hand and stood up.

  The background music had changed to something a little more familiar.

  ‘What?’ She looked around.

  He turned the palm of his hand, extending it out towards her. ‘Give me Gabrielle back, please.’

  She frowned with confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

  He was giving her a knowing kind of smile. ‘I had her. I had her right there with me, then you just flipped back into princess mode.’

  A little chill spread over her skin. He was right. She had. One second she’d been enjoying dinner with Sullivan, contemplating some fun, and the next? She’d been sucked back into the wave of responsibility that felt as if it could suffocate her.

  Tears prickled in her eyes. But Sullivan kept his voice light, almost teasing. ‘When Gabrielle hears this tune, there’s only one thing she can do.’

  The beat of Justin Timberlake filled the air around her. From the expression on Sullivan’s face it was clear he was remembering their first meeting—when he’d caught her dancing around the tent in Narumba.

  ‘How can any girl resist JT?’ he asked again.

  ‘How can any girl resist Sullivan Darcy?’ she countered as she slid her hand into his.

  The security staff seemed to have miraculously disappeared into the walls. After a few seconds it was easy to feel the beat and start to relax a little. Sullivan pulled her a little closer.

  ‘I thought you didn’t dance?’ She smirked as the heat of his body pressed up against hers. Apart from the night she’d lain in his arms, this was the first time since Paris she’d really been in a place she wanted to be.

  ‘I thought you needed to let your hair down a little,’ he said huskily. ‘Remember what it is to have some fun.’

  She swung her head. ‘But my hair is down,’ she argued, as her curls bounced around her shoulders.

  ‘Is it?’ he asked as he swung her round and dipped her.

  She squealed, laughing, her arms slipping up and fastening around his neck. He held her there for a second, his mouth just inches from hers. She glanced up at his dark hair, running a finger along the edges. ‘This is the longest I’ve seen your hair. Is that a little kink? Does your normal buzz cut hide curls?’ She was teasing. She couldn’t help it.

  This was the kind of life she wanted to live. She wanted to be free to work hard during the day and laugh, joke and flirt her way with a man who made her heart sing through the nights.

  He swung her back up, so close her breasts pressed against his chest. ‘Now, that, my lovely lady, would be telling. Isn’t a guy supposed to have some secrets?’

  She wrinkled her nose as a little wave of guilt swept through her. ‘I thought we were kind of finished with secrets.’

  He waved his hands as he kept them swaying to the beat of the song. ‘Princess Schmincess.’

  She blinked. ‘Did you really just say that?’

  ‘Say what?’ Thi
s time he was teasing her. And she liked it. She ran her hands down the front of his chest.

  ‘I think you’ve been holding out on me.’

  He spun her around again. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. You never demonstrated these dance moves in Narumba.’

  She was trying not to concentrate too closely on those clear green eyes of his. The twinkle that they held practically danced across her skin. And that sexy smile of his was making her want to take actions entirely unsuitable for a public terrace.

  He slowed his movements a little and traced his finger gently down her cheek. ‘Maybe I was saving them for a private show.’

  She groaned out loud. ‘Stop it. I’ve got security guards around. If you keep talking to me like this we’re going to have to skip dessert.’

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. ‘I’ve always thought dessert was overrated.’

  His lips met hers. For a few seconds her brain completely cleared. Tonight had been almost perfect. It was like some make-believe date. Dinner, wine, dancing and...

  His hands tangled through her hair as he teased her with his lips and tongue. She didn’t want to break the connection—she didn’t even want to breathe. Any second now she might start seeing stars.

  Sullivan Darcy knew how to kiss. He knew how to hold a woman and cradle her body next to his. He kissed her lips, down her neck and along to her collarbone. Then just as her mouth was hungry for more he met her again, head on. His smell was wrapping around her, clean, with a hint of musk, or maybe it was just the pheromones—because right now she was pretty sure the air was laced with them.

  His hand moved from her hair to her waist, sliding upwards, his palm covering her breast. Every part of her body reacted. Every one of her senses was on fire. And there was an instant reciprocal effect from his body.

  A sudden gust of wind swept past them.

  She jumped back, breathless and trying to regain control. There saw a dark shape shuffle back somewhere inside the restaurant. She felt her face flush. The restaurant staff and security staff would just have witnessed their moment of passion.

  She glanced back to their table, the unfinished wine and plates still waiting to be collected. People were chatting on the street below.

  For a few seconds she’d been in her own little bubble with Sullivan Darcy. She didn’t need a reality check. Didn’t want a reality check.

  So she did the only thing that seemed entirely rational.

  She grabbed his hand. ‘Let’s go.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  THEY’D STUMBLED BACK to his apartments instead of hers. It seemed that Gabrielle wasn’t comfortable in the royal apartments.

  The morning sunrise was beautiful. From here Sullivan had part view of the mountain covered in patches of green and part view of the city beneath them, all swathed in oranges, pinks and purples.

  It had been a long time since he’d had the time to watch the sunrise. And he’d never done it next to a woman like Gabrielle.

  For the first time in a long time the night hadn’t drawn out, like a continuing loop. He’d actually slept a little. Yes, his brain had still spun endlessly round and round, but there had been periods of calm. Periods of quiet. It seemed Gabrielle was a good influence on him.

  She was sleeping peacefully now, the white sheets tangled around her body. Her brown hair was fanned across the pillow and for once her forehead was smooth and not furrowed with worry. From the second they’d reached Mirinez her beautiful face had been marred by a frown that he’d only seen once the whole time they’d worked together.

  This was the way she should look. This was the Gabrielle he’d first met a few weeks ago. The woman he’d spent last night with.

  His stomach curled a little. Part of him wished the Princess part and Mirinez had never happened. He’d liked it better when she’d just been Gabrielle Cartier, medic from Doctors Without Borders. A girl with great legs, even better shorts, a killer dance rhythm and sexy as hell.

  Here in Mirinez Gabrielle seemed coated in layers. Last night had been about trying to peel them all back and let her have a little fun.

  And, boy, had they had fun.

  He’d spent the last three years only having short-term flings. When he’d first met Gabrielle, his brain had pushed her firmly into that category. But from first sight his body had reacted in a way it hadn’t before. At just a glance, a smile, the spark from a touch, it knew. Gabrielle could never be a fling.

  Last night had confirmed that in a way he could never have predicted. He could stay in this position, watching her sleep, for ever.

  But the dark clouds were still circling above his head. Right now, Gabrielle was like a ray of bright sunshine trying to stream through. If he could believe the intensity of these emotions—if he wanted to act on them—he had to pull himself out of this fog. For the first time in three years he was actually starting to feel something. For the first time he was starting to question—wouldn’t it be so much better to actually feel again?

  There was a shuffling outside the door. Sullivan sat up in bed, frowning to listen a little closer. There were low voices.

  He swung his legs out of bed and grabbed a T-shirt, opening the door of the bedroom. Franz, the palace advisor, was outside. ‘Dr Darcy, I have a message for Princess Gabrielle and I couldn’t find her in her apartments.’

  Sullivan nodded. He was sure the whole palace knew exactly where she was. ‘Do you want me to get her for you?’

  Franz gave a brief nod of his head.

  Sullivan closed the door again and crossed over to the bed, sitting on the edge and putting his hand on Gabrielle’s bare shoulder. He gave her a gentle shake.

  ‘Gabrielle? Wake up. Franz is looking for you. They have a message.’

  Her dark eyes flickered open. It took her a few seconds to orientate herself. ‘I fell asleep?’ she asked, as she pushed herself up.

  ‘Nope. I just kidnapped you and held you hostage.’

  She pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts as she tried to untangle her legs. ‘Oh, no.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve got no clothes.’ She looked down at the floor. Her black dress was lying rumpled across the carpet, her bra hung from the arm of a chair, and as for her underwear...

  Sullivan walked to the cupboard and tossed her a T-shirt. ‘This is getting to be a habit. Maybe you should move some clothes in here.’

  She looked a little startled by the comment. She pulled the T-shirt over her head and looked around the room again, colour flooding her cheeks as she picked up her dress and bra. ‘Give me a pair of your jockey shorts too.’

  He laughed as she scrambled into the shorts. ‘Don’t you have a robe—a dressing gown—in here?’

  Sullivan shook his head. ‘Why on earth would I need one of those?’

  ‘To let me keep a bit of dignity?’

  It was clear she was feeling tetchy. He walked through the bathroom and ran the tap, washing his face and hands, trying to wake up a little more. He flicked the switch on the shower to let it heat up. Coffee. He would find some coffee, then arrange to go back down to the hospital and review the patients.

  Gabrielle appeared at the door, looking pale, a newspaper clutched in her hand.

  ‘What is it?’

  She lifted up the Italian broadsheet so he could see the headline.

  He flinched.

  Princess Gabrielle’s affair with Delinquent Doc

  He snatched the paper and started to read. Speaking Italian was different from reading it, but he could easily understand the gist of the article.

  The trouble was, no matter what the article said, the picture told a thousand words. It was of the two of them on the terrace last night. They were locked together, his hand on her breast, her arms around his neck. There was n
o mistaking where the night was going.

  He held up the paper, trying to temper the anger that was rising in his stomach. ‘What’s this about anyway? We’re two consenting adults—we can do whatever we want.’

  ‘Keep reading.’ Her voice had a little tremor.

  Sullivan’s mobile started ringing. They both turned their heads, but he ignored it. He kept reading.

  It was a hatchet job. It questioned Gabrielle’s suitability to be Head of State. It questioned her competence. There was nothing accurate in the article. It didn’t even mention the fact she was a doctor and had worked for Doctors Without Borders for the last few years, or the work she’d done to help stop the spread of TB.

  As for the ‘Delinquent Doc’, it seemed that no one knew Sullivan Darcy had served in the US forces. There was no mention that he’d just helped out with a national emergency in Mirinez. No. All that was mentioned was a minor caution he’d received as a teenager from the police—something that had only ever been reported on in the local paper back in his home town. There wouldn’t even be a record of it any more.

  There was one final press comment.

  Is this the man Princess Gabrielle will marry?

  It was like a punch to the stomach. One date. One kiss. One night in bed—and the press didn’t even know about that. Was this what it was like, dating a royal? Facing constant presumptions about what would come next?

  His blood chilled in his veins. He was only just starting to feel again after three numb years. And he wasn’t there yet. He wasn’t. He couldn’t offer Gabrielle anything close to marriage yet.

  She held up another paper. ‘Apparently there was a picture of us the day before too. My team just missed it amongst all the mine reports.’

  Sullivan squinted at the paper in her hand. There was a photo of him and her walking out of the hospital. He had his arm slung around her waist, they were both dressed in scrubs and basically looking like the walking dead. He read that headline.

  Who is the mystery man with Princess

  Gabrielle?

  He shook his head and threw the broadsheet he’d been holding on the unmade bed. ‘Well, I guess they found that out,’ he muttered. ‘Why are you so upset about this? It’s nothing. It’s rubbish.’