The Army Doc's Secret Princess

by Emily Forbes

  Could her royal fling...

  ...last a lifetime?

  Princess Viktoria made a promise: do her duty and marry a duke. But she wants one final adventure first! So she welcomes the freedom that working incognito at the Legion’s Games gives her. There’s only one tall, dark and brooding problem—surgeon and medical team leader Campbell Hamilton. Because the delicious-yet-damaged army doc leaves Viktoria wondering if the adventure she really wants is forever with the man she’s falling for...

  EMILY FORBES is an award-winning author of Medical Romance for Mills & Boon. She has written over twenty-five books and has twice been a finalist in the Australian Romantic Book of the Year Award, which she won in 2013 for her novel Sydney Harbour Hospital: Bella’s Wishlist. You can get in touch with Emily at emilyforbes@internode.on.net, or visit her website at emily-forbesauthor.com.

  Also by Emily Forbes

  One Night That Changed Her Life

  Falling for His Best Friend

  Reunited with Her Brooding Surgeon

  Rescued by the Single Dad

  Taming Her Hollywood Playboy

  Reunited by Their Secret Daughter

  Tempted & Tamed miniseries

  A Doctor by Day…

  Tamed by the Renegade

  A Mother to Make a Family

  Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

  The Army Doc’s Secret Princess

  Emily Forbes

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  ISBN: 978-0-008-90268-1

  THE ARMY DOC’S SECRET PRINCESS

  © 2020 Emily Forbes

  Published in Great Britain 2020

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

  All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

  By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

  ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Note to Readers

  This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:

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  Text to speech

  For dearest Xander and Mel,

  Congratulations to you as you celebrate your wedding day

  and your commitment to each other.

  Xander, make sure you treat Mel like a princess!

  Mel, please take care of my nephew.

  Wishing you both a lifetime of happily-ever-afters,

  with all my love,

  Auntie Emily

  Contents

  Cover

  Back Cover Text

  About the Author

  Booklist

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Note to Readers

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  Extract

  About the Publisher

  PROLOGUE

  Two years ago

  CAMPBELL’S HEADPHONES BLOCKED out most of the engine noise, but he could still hear a faint rhythmic thump-thump as the chopper blades beat the air and he could feel the vibrations as they shuddered through his body. After almost six months he thought he’d be used to the overwhelming assault on his senses—the smell of fumes and dust, the incessant noise, the constant jarring and jolting—but he had yet to get used to the tension. He was always on edge when he was in flight, despite knowing that one of the Australian Army’s best pilots was in control of the aircraft, and he was looking forward to getting back on the ground.

  Cam kept his eyes cast down, focusing on his patient. He kept up a one-sided conversation despite the fact that his patient was heavily sedated, and the engine noise would make conversation almost impossible even if he were conscious. He gave him a rundown of his situation—only the positives though. His IV line was running smoothly and his vital signs had stabilised, he told him. He avoided the specifics of his injuries. The soldier was badly wounded, but he didn’t need to be reminded of that. He’d live, at this stage that was the important information, but he’d be getting sent home for a while. Home to Australia. Where he’d have a chance to recover physically, if not mentally.

  Cam knew the soldiers would always be haunted by their experiences fighting a war on the other side of the world. Some would cope better than others. He knew he’d have scars too. Mental, not physical. This war wasn’t what he’d anticipated or expected.

  Gemma had warned him, but how did you warn someone who had grown up in rural Australia? A land of dust and dirt but safe enough. Hot, and at times desolate, but it had been a different sort of barren. A different sort of danger.

  Apart from the snakes and some angry rams or falling off a motorbike or a horse, Cam hadn’t really had anything to worry about. Now, every day was a battle. Here, there was always a chance of getting hit by a bullet, being on the wrong side of an IED, being wounded or killed by enemy fire or even by a civilian on a suicide mission. Life here was stressful.

  His job as a medical specialist with the Australian Army meant he was responsible for lives in a country where lives were not highly regarded. Lives here were seen as disposable, which went against everything he believed in and made his job difficult and, at times, impossible. He still had access to First World medical facilities but, more often than not, he was trying to save lives in the middle of a dust bowl, trying to do his best while war raged around him. Gemma had tried to explain it to him but, until he’d seen it with his own eyes, until he’d lived through the experiences she had told him about, he knew he hadn’t understood.

  He glanced towards the cockpit to where Gemma sat in the pilot’s seat. As if she had felt his gaze, his fiancée turned and looked back at him and smiled.

  Cam was looking for
ward to getting back to base. He was looking forward to dinner with Gemma, even if it was just in the mess tent. He could pretend for a moment that they were a normal couple, looking forward to making a life together, planning a family. He needed that idea of his future—it was what kept him going on tough days. Gemma was the bright spot in his world. He loved his job but, if he was asked, he’d have to admit he preferred to do his job in the sterile environment of an Australian medical facility. He didn’t mind dust and dirt, he was country born and bred after all, but practising medicine in these conditions was challenging, often unpleasant and definitely not fun.

  But no one was interested in his opinion and if he wanted to be with Gemma, this was where she was.

  He wondered if he had any chance of convincing her to quit the army and return to Australia. She loved flying but it would be years before she would achieve flight instructor status with the army. Years before she wouldn’t have to fly combat missions. Perhaps she could work privately instead.

  He wondered when it would be safe to have that discussion. Would it ever? Could he ask her to give up something she loved? How would he feel if she started to tell him how to live his life or run his career?

  He knew he wouldn’t be happy.

  He blew her a kiss just as a bright light burst in his peripheral vision.

  The chopper lurched as Gemma’s head whipped around and even through the headphones Cam could hear the sound of tearing metal.

  The chopper shuddered and he could see Gemma and her co-pilot fighting to keep control as the bird started to spin.

  It took him a few seconds to work out what had happened. It felt like an eternity.

  They’d been hit.

  There was a second explosion, the burst of light so intense that Cam closed his eyes against the glare.

  He could feel the chopper spinning wildly. He opened his eyes and saw the ground rushing towards them as the machine fell from the sky.

  Black smoke filled the cabin, making Cam’s eyes water. He couldn’t see Gemma. He couldn’t see anything. He lost all sense of space and time.

  He threw himself over his patient as the helicopter plummeted. He knew it was a ridiculous gesture. He wasn’t going to be able to protect him. He wasn’t going to be able to save him. The situation was completely out of his control.

  There was nothing he could do.

  Cam’s eyes flickered open.

  His head was pounding and he closed his eyes again as he fought back a wave of nausea. His ears were ringing and there was a metallic taste in his mouth. Blood.

  He licked his lip. It was split and swollen but the blood was still wet. He was dazed, disoriented but he knew then that he hadn’t been knocked out for long.

  He opened his eyes and looked around the cabin. Acrid smoke still billowed in the air, making his eyes water and obscuring his vision.

  He breathed in through his nose, trying to avoid getting a mouthful of smoke. A sharp pain speared through the left side of his chest, making him gasp with pain. His breathing was shallow, restricted.

  He lifted one hand to his chest and pressed gently under his armpit. His ribs screamed in protest even as he subconsciously registered that his left arm still functioned. That was good. He had obviously fractured some ribs, but it appeared that he hadn’t sustained major damage to his upper spine at least.

  He could feel pain in his right hip as well as his ribs, but he knew that sometimes pain was a good thing; it meant his nerve endings were intact. Sometimes even a painful sensation was better than no sensation.

  The smoke was acrid but, underlying the smoke, Cam could smell fumes. That focused his attention.

  They needed to get out of the chopper.

  Would it explode? How long did they have?

  Who had fired the missile at them? And where were they? Were they close? Or perhaps far enough away that they hadn’t seen the distinctive red cross marking the bird as a medical transport? Or perhaps they didn’t care?

  The inside of the chopper was dark. The faint glow of green emergency lights gave an eerie aspect, failing to pierce the smoky interior. Visibility was poor but the cabin was also quiet. He couldn’t hear a sound. Was everyone else still unconscious? Or worse?

  The smoke began to clear, and Cam peered around the cabin. The stretcher that had held his patient was on its side. Crumpled. He was sure he’d thrown himself over his patient, but the force of the impact had thrown him against the opposite wall of the chopper.

  He looked to the front of the chopper.

  There was a gaping hole where Gemma’s seat should be.

  ‘Gemma!’

  Pain shot through his chest again. He was out of breath and his voice was raspy. Hoarse. His tongue felt thick and his swollen lip deformed his words.

  ‘Gemma!’

  He had to move but he knew it was going to hurt. He pressed his right hand against his ribs, trying to hold them together as he grabbed the side of the chopper with his left hand. He tried to keep his left elbow pressed against his side, pressing against his right hand, but still his ribs protested and his vision blurred with pain. Little black dots danced in front of his eyes and he blinked, trying to clear them away as he pulled himself to his feet. He made it into a semi-upright position, leaning through his right side, but the moment he put his weight onto his right foot an intense pain shot through his pelvis.

  His right leg refused to take his weight. It wouldn’t hold.

  It gave way beneath him as searing pain tore through him.

  He collapsed, Gemma’s name still on his lips, as everything went black.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Present day

  CAMPBELL’S LEG ACHED and he fought hard against the urge to stand up. The meeting had been long and he was beginning to get restless. He’d never been good at sitting still and these days it was almost impossible. He needed to stand and stretch; prolonged periods of sitting disagreed with him. Irritated his mind and his body. If he sat still his leg complained and his mind wandered. He needed to be moving, he needed to be busy. He wanted to keep his mind occupied. He didn’t want time to dwell. Too much time to think had proven to be difficult.

  He stretched his right leg out under the boardroom table as he tried to ease the cramp in his hip. He needed to get in the pool. Swim a few laps. He would prefer to swim a few laps in the ocean, but he knew from experience that he’d fare better in a warm pool. The heated water would ease his aching muscles. It had been two years since the chopper crash and he didn’t need ice baths any more.

  It had been twenty-four months since the incident, but he was still adjusting to his new life.

  A life as a solitary man.

  ‘Any other problems?’

  He brought his attention back to the meeting as Douglas began to wrap it up.

  Thank goodness it was almost over. Cam hoped no one had any additional items for discussion. He looked around the table at the ten other men and women, trying to gauge if any of them looked like they had something on their mind. He’d had enough experience with meetings, ward rounds as well as military discussion groups, to know that there was always one person who seemed to delight in dragging meetings on for far too long but today, for once, it appeared as though everyone was just as eager to escape as he was.

  He stood up the minute Douglas officially closed the meeting. He stretched, knowing that if he didn’t take a moment to ease the stiffness in his back and leg his limp would be far more pronounced, and he preferred not to draw attention to himself.

  He was used to being noticed but he didn’t want to be noticed for the wrong reasons. He knew that was ironic and he’d never say it out loud, not when he was surrounded by so many others with far more severe disabilities and injuries than he had, but he knew that perception was a very personal thing.

  ‘You okay?’ Doug was beside him.

  Cam
knew Doug would have noticed his attempt at surreptitious stretching. Doug was one of his closest friends in the service and had been a good support to him during his rehabilitation and recovery phase. His family and friends had helped get him through the past year. He felt he owed it to them to pull through, although there had been times when it had seemed like too much effort, but he was having better days now.

  He knew he’d been difficult. He’d been the sole survivor of the incident that had claimed the lives of five others, including his fiancée. He’d been angry but he’d eventually managed to let go of that anger; however, guilt had continued to eat away at him. It still did. He knew the incident hadn’t been his fault but the fact he hadn’t been able to save anyone, especially Gemma, was hard to live with and it remained an effort to get through his days with a smile.

  Work had been his saviour. Initially he hadn’t wanted to listen to other people’s problems but gradually he’d found that if he focused on their issues it gave him less time to think about his own. Keeping busy had been the key and now he threw himself into whatever came his way and he had taken on all manner of tasks in the past twelve months since returning to his post as an army medic.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘just too many meetings.’ His need to keep busy was what had landed him in this situation in the first place. ‘When I agreed to be the medical liaison officer on the committee, I didn’t expect to spend so much time in discussions. I expected my role to be in an advisory capacity.’

  His pain made him grumpy. He knew it. He should take some painkillers, but he needed the strong ones and he needed to keep a clear head. He needed his wits about him; he didn’t want to get roped into any more committees or be given any more tasks to do. He had enough on his plate.

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Well, then, I didn’t think it was possible to have this many meetings.’ Cam had made no secret of the fact that he liked to be busy and when he’d agreed to be on this committee he’d imagined that he’d be doing something practical like overseeing the medical facilities and programme for the games, not sitting around in meetings.