The Surgeon and the Princess

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The Surgeon and the Princess Page 18

by Karin Baine


  Mallory knew she’d been a surprise for her parents and, going by the loving atmosphere she’d grown up in, a very welcome one. They’d doted on her, even when she’d messed up big time and become pregnant, then depressed when she’d lost her baby due to an ectopic pregnancy. A stark memory flared of the physical and mental pain of losing her baby, while her boyfriend could only say with relief that they were too young to be parents anyway and that the surgical procedure had not only saved her life but their individual futures.

  Her mum and dad had devoted all their time to her until she was back on her feet and then when she’d gone looking for a new career. The nursing course she had enrolled for had no longer been appealing, with thoughts of dealing with other people’s pain dragging her down. Her mum had been disappointed as she’d wanted her daughter to follow in her footsteps, but she’d rallied and backed Mallory all the way when she’d decided on flying helicopters and, despite a fear of flying, had been Mallory’s first passenger when she’d been allowed to take people up.

  Now it was Mallory’s turn to give her mother everything she could, including staying here in Queenstown for the foreseeable future, and spending time with her whenever possible. She’d already turned down with few regrets the dream job of flying rescue choppers in Nelson. Family came first, no matter what.

  She led Josue to her parents’ old room. ‘Anything you want, just shout out.’ She turned away. Bring on the shower. Nothing like a long, hot soak to ease the kinks in her back. The wind had been strong on the mountain, and along with the worry over Kayla, the thought of starting another avalanche with the downdraught from the rotors had been high on her mind, even though where she’d flown there had been little chance. Exhaustion always came after the adrenaline rush.

  As the water pummelled the ache between her shoulder blades, relief at getting Kayla to safety finally pushed out the negatives, giving her that sense of satisfaction she got after a positive retrieval. Not that her friend would be pleased with where she was right now, but better that than at the bottom of the gulley with tons of snow on top.

  As Mallory’s body warmed, her mind wandered to the man down the hallway. Josue Bisset. Funny how Josue sounded sexier than Joshua. Softer, as though filled with hidden anticipation. And he was sexy, now that she had time to see him not as a problem but a man who had come to her district to work and help those in trouble out in the wilderness. Tall men with broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips did it for her every time. Throw in a dazzling smile and vibrant eyes and she was a sucker for trouble.

  Unreal how quickly she’d gone from anger to this unexpected curiosity about him. It was as though he was pushing buttons hidden deep inside her, reminding her it was time to have some fun again and to nudge the restlessness aside for a while. But to do that with her intruder? She grinned. That might become his name for his time in Queenstown. The Intruder. A darned sexy, interesting intruder at that. She didn’t throw herself at men and yet she felt she wouldn’t be averse to spending time with Josue. Then again, maybe not. He wasn’t staying here forever, and she was.

  Having witnessed her parents’ deep love for each other, it was inherent to want the same, and so far she hadn’t come close. At thirty-two she was starting to wonder if she’d be waiting till her forties, like her mother. Not till I’m fifty as dad was, please. Her family had been close, so special, she dreamed of attaining the same for herself. Sometimes she wondered if she was just hoping for too much. She wanted another chance to have a baby and yet was terrified of a repeat of last time. What if she had another ectopic pregnancy? And what if she couldn’t conceive at all?

  Hogan had accused her of being ungrateful for what they had, saying she wanted her dreams of love to come true when life wasn’t like that. He might’ve been right, but she wasn’t giving up yet. She’d gradually fallen out of love with him and he hadn’t taken kindly to that, saying she was selfish. When she’d asked him to leave the flat she’d paid for, he’d left the next day while she was at work, transferring online her savings to his account on the way. So much for trusting him.

  The water ran cool. Damn, she’d forgotten to tell Josue not to have a shower while this one was in use. Turning off the shower, she reached for a towel. The system didn’t work properly when more than one hot tap was on at a time. She really should get around to having the plumber come by, except it seemed like an expense she didn’t need when mostly she was the only one living here. Josue was here for one night. He wouldn’t be causing problems with the system much longer.

  Josue. She stared into the mirror. What did he see when looking at her? Freckles, green eyes, and wavy hair tied back out of the way for work. He’d seen her in her overalls so did that mean he missed the feminine side she kept out of sight while at work because she didn’t want the men treating her any differently? It never bothered her what anyone thought of her appearance in heavy duty boots and sensible clothes for all seasons, but when she wasn’t at work there was an array of soft blouses and tight trousers hanging in the wardrobe to relax into, shoes with heels and fashionable boots in bright shades of red and mustard and blue.

  At home the hair came down to spill over her shoulders, blonde against the sky-blue satin PJs she was about to put on. They probably wouldn’t impress a classy Frenchman. His casual clothes might be messed up, but they were stylish. But again, so what? This was home and she was being herself, sexy Frenchman hanging about or not.

  Slipping a thick white robe over the PJs, she unlocked the door and headed to the kitchen to make that tea she’d been hanging out for since pulling up to the house.

  * * *

  Josue pulled on loose sports trousers and a sweatshirt. He hoped Mallory wouldn’t mind if he made coffee. Being one of his bad habits from the years studying medicine, it didn’t keep him awake. Besides, he was exhausted after the long day travelling and needed a caffeine fix. He’d been so happy about coming to Queenstown he hadn’t bothered to stop for a night on the way down the South Island.

  The scenery had been stunning, but then mountains always upped his pulse rate. They were magical, and dangerous, and he enjoyed any time spent on one. They were the reason he’d decided to spend the last months of his New Zealand trip down here. Getting more insight into search and rescue in such rugged terrain to take home to use if he found a doctor’s position at a skiing location, as he intended, was a bonus.

  Looking at the bed, he knew he couldn’t go there yet. There was too much going on in his head. Mostly about the woman who’d looked ready to boot him out on his backside when she’d first strode into her house and found him on her couch. She’d been equally shocked and angry, and right away had appeared determined he wasn’t going to get the better of her. Not that he’d had any intention of trying to best her. He’d been the one in the wrong.

  But, wow, she was something else, standing straight, her eyes fixed on him, her voice strong. Intriguing, to say the least. And gorgeous. Those freckles sprinkled across her cheeks she apparently didn’t try to hide under layers of heavy make-up like some women he’d known made him long to kiss her gently. They were like a sign saying there was a wonderful woman behind the stance telling him not to mess with her, and that there was another, softer side to her strength hidden away from prying eyes.

  He’d messed up completely on arrival, but who’d have thought both women hid the keys to their houses in the same place? And that they were friends? Even then, he should’ve realised when he’d walked into the house and seen all those photos hanging on the wall he’d presumed were of Kayla and her parents. He’d been so taken with the love in everyone’s faces he hadn’t realised Dean was missing in the pictures. Mallory and who he now presumed were her parents looked so happy cuddled together that an old envy had filled his heart.

  Growing up in foster homes, he’d never known anything like that. In fact, he often didn’t quite believe people who said they were so in love the world was permanently r
osy, yet those photos told him different. Love could be real. But was it possible for the likes of him who’d been left on a doorstep at twelve months old?

  Gabriel always insisted it was and he had shown him great affection since the day he’d taken Josue under his wing to help sort his life out. At fifteen, Josue had been going off the rails in the direction of a life of crime when the policeman who’d arrested him for theft had given him a talking-to like no other, basically saying he had two choices in life and not to blame anyone else for which path he took.

  Gabriel and his wife had taken him in a few months later and had stood by him as he’d fumbled his way out of trouble and into study and work, eventually making it to medical school and into a career the boy whose mother had abandoned had never imagined. The policeman and Brigitte had been the first to love him unconditionally and he had given the same back, warily at first and then with all his being.

  But he’d never found that kind of love with a woman. Perhaps because he always backed off before they could reject him, like most other people had in the past. He wasn’t counting casual friends. They came and went and that was fine. It was the ones who could have loved him, and hadn’t, that had him fearful of being hurt again. Gabriel and Brigitte had been the first to show him unconditional love and he had to learn to return it. Twice he’d started to get close to a woman before fearing they wouldn’t give him the love he craved and so he’d run.

  Josue hauled air into his lungs and sighed slowly. It was an old story and he really should let it alone—especially now when he was in a wonderful country where he’d been welcomed with open arms and was having a great time. He didn’t have to juggle emotions over a relationship because he wasn’t getting into one.

  Looking around, he sighed. This house wasn’t where he was meant to be, wasn’t number 142. A simple mistake with no serious consequences. If he had reached the right destination he’d probably still be lying on a couch, snoozing or awake, wondering where his hostess was. At least he had the answer to that question. He’d call Dean tomorrow to find out how his sister was and make sure her house was still available. If not, he’d look for somewhere else, no problem.

  He took another glance around. It’d be great to stay here but Mallory wouldn’t want him hanging out in her space. She came across as independent and not needing company in the evenings while winter raged outside. Then again, she might be a complete softy on the inside. After all she had given him, a stranger, a bed for the night rather than sending him along the road to a cold, empty house.

  He was daydreaming. At the moment he had arrangements in place and wouldn’t be changing them on a whim. A fascinating, gorgeous whim, though. Mallory hadn’t flinched when she’d found him in her house, hadn’t been fearful or stroppy. Not that he’d have wanted to push her good nature. He suspected she’d have had him on the floor with a foot on his back while she phoned the police if she’d had any doubts about why he’d come to be here. How embarrassing to be found in a stranger’s home, looking like he was meant to be there, though that was probably what had saved him from having his backside kicked.

  Mallory might be small, but she was strong. Not once had her shoulders dropped while sussing him out, her gaze had never wavered, and her tone had pierced him with a warning that he’d better be genuine or watch out.

  ‘Josue,’ a gentle, kind voice called from the kitchen, showing yet another side to Mallory. She straightened up from petting Shade as he joined her. ‘I’m making tea. You want one?’

  He gasped internally. Mallory wore pyjamas, the summer-sky shade making her eyes gleam. They drew him in. Dampness, no doubt from the shower, made her blonde hair darker. It fell in thick waves down her back and over her shoulders to her breasts. Her white robe was tied tightly around a tiny waist. Was this the same woman who’d been wearing shapeless overalls and thick work socks inside heavy boots? This version was feminine and lovely.

  His breathing stuttered, as though his lungs were confused over taking air in or huffing it out. The other version had been gorgeous, but this Mallory? Gasp. Out of this world. His finger and thumb pinched his thigh. Reality returned through a sudden haze of lust. Why had he put the wrong damned number in the GPS? He was in for a sleepless night knowing this woman was in the same house.

  ‘Josue?’ Confusion scrunched her face. ‘Tea?’

  Tea? What? Shaking his head, he finally got his act together. ‘Would you mind if I have coffee?’ He crossed his fingers. ‘As in real coffee?’ Glancing over the benches, he smiled. ‘It’s okay. I see you have some.’ Instant coffee was worse than none at all.

  ‘Help yourself.’

  ‘Merci.’ Mallory was already treating him as though he fitted right in, moving around him in the small space as she prepared her tea. It made him feel good, like he mattered in a relaxed way. Even though it was casual and not deep and meaningful, that warmed him throughout. It wasn’t something he’d had a lot of. None of the foster families he’d been placed with had been so quick to accept him, if they’d ever even got there. Only Gabriel and Brigitte had right from the get-go, and that had been massive as at the time he’d been the worst kind of brat possible. They were the reason he was heading home after this job, to be there when Gabriel had his heart surgery, to support both of them.

  Yet, despite all they’d done for him, the memories remained of how every time he’d met a new family his hopes of being liked and cared about had been dashed. It was as though he had to prove himself every time he met someone, and as a kid he’d turned his anger to hurting others by stealing from them. Gabriel had soon talked sense into him, saying he was hurting himself more than anyone else. It was true, but he’d never quite got over being on edge when he first met someone.

  Of course he mattered, as a man and as a doctor. He did believe it, but there was a hole inside that he just couldn’t fill. In the two instances when he’d thought he’d come close with women he’d cared for, Colette and Liza, he’d continually questioned his feelings and their reactions to him, eventually leading those relationships to failure. So why was he feeling like he mattered here with this woman in a way he’d not known before? As though he just might be able to find that settled life he craved? It was a foreign sensation. Because she’d shared her pizza? Offered him a room? Or because she wandered around her kitchen as though he’d always been there?

  No doubt he was overreacting to her kindness, but a rare warmth was spreading throughout him, surprising and confusing him. Should he be pleased or worried? He obviously wasn’t having the same effect on Mallory. Which had to be good, he supposed, if he wanted to get to know her better, as he liked to do with locals wherever he was working. That way he learned more about the area, where best to ski, hike, eat and drink.

  Right now he’d like to do all those things with Mallory. Already he knew that? Oui, he did, if that’s what this unusual sense of anticipation meant. But, like everything he did, if he acted on these sensations waking up his manhood, it would be short term. He knew too well that the itch to move on would strike, as it had done all his life, after going from one foster family to the next, a new school each time, new people to get to know and try to impress.

  Gabriel and Brigitte were the people he returned to often and kept in constant contact with when away from Nice. As a teen he’d had his own room in their house, and it was still his. Only with them did he have a complete sense of belonging. There was no family history to hold on to.

  The only information he had was that his father had died when he was twelve months old and his mother had never replied to any of the letters he’d written to her as a child. If she ever got them. He’d met her briefly when he was fourteen. She had told him she’d started taking drugs soon after he was born and by the time she’d left him, she’d got deeper into the criminal world to feed her habit.

  She believed she’d done the right thing by her son and to have visited him at all would have been worse than s
taying away. After that meeting, she had gone again and not many months later he’d learned she’d died of an overdose.

  Mallory brushed past him, steaming mug in hand, as she headed for the lounge.

  He was being gloomy. His life had moved on, improved, and there were all sorts of opportunities out there if he let go of the past. Letting the coffee stand, he joined Mallory, settling into a large leather armchair. ‘Tell me about flying helicopters. What work do you do?’

  A tired smile stretched her mouth wide and lit up her equally tired eyes. ‘My full-time job mostly involves flying sightseeing trips up to the snow slopes or around the mountains, out to Milford Sound. Sometimes there are other trips, taking business people to cities up and down the South Island. It keeps me busy, and volunteering for Search and Rescue is an added bonus. My boss is happy for me to help out, but it has to be in my free time.’

  Josue could listen to her voice all night. The Kiwi accent was sharper than European ones, but he liked its clarity, especially mixed with Mallory’s softness. Careful, Jos. It was strange to be feeling a woman’s voice, looks, attitude as warm and encompassing so easily. Could he finally be moving past the doubts that usually blocked him from believing anything was possible? Yet he was still overthinking everything. Though he was feeling more relaxed and comfortable than usual, none of that meant he could suddenly settle into a stable life and always be there for a woman he might fall in love with.

  ‘As an S and R volunteer I also do some of the rescue flights, though I’m only the back-up pilot when others are unable to attend.’

  ‘Like today.’

  Her mouth dropped, and she blinked rapidly. ‘Yes. Any rescue that involves seriously injured people, or worse, upsets me, and not only when it’s someone very close to me.’

  He wanted to hug away that pain, but they didn’t know each other well enough. She might misinterpret the gesture. ‘I understand, but those sentiments are why we do the job in the first place.’ Was she completely relaxed with him? Why question it, Jos? Just accept Mallory for who she appears to be. His heart softened. Not many people in his past had been so accepting of him so fast. They’d wanted to know his history in other foster homes and schools before they’d asked if he liked eating beef, if they asked anything personal.

 

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