by Kit Kyndall
Within half an hour, they had checked in and were in the suite. It was luxurious, but couldn’t compare with the royal summer palace. It was roughly on par with the servants’ quarters, which amused her. The view was spectacular though, rising several stories in the air and giving a marvelous view of the confluence of the Rhône and Arve rivers.
After settling in, she felt restless and paced around the room she had chosen for herself. She hadn’t waited to see if Bennet offered her a space in his bed, because she couldn’t accept the invitation if it came, and she’d be crushed if it didn’t. She had to maintain the illusion of a working relationship only, which necessitated her having a separate room in the suite.
When she could find nothing else to keep her occupied in her room, she slipped out of it and went in search of Bennet. He was on the balcony, and she joined him, shivering slightly as the cool evening air caressed her face and ruffled her hair. It had dropped a few degrees since they had landed, but it was still perfectly pleasant.
She moved closer to him, frowning when she saw the alcohol in his hand, combined with the brooding expression on his face. She wanted to admonish him about drinking, but chose not to. He was an adult, and if he was nervous about tomorrow, one drink might help take the edge off. It wasn’t likely to cause a huge setback, and he wouldn’t appreciate the lecture—from either his lover or his physical therapist.
Instead, she pulled out one of the wrought iron seats and sat down beside him, not speaking as they stared out into the city below. She could practically feel him humming with tension, so she reached out and took his hand in hers. He curled his fingers around hers, holding her hand with a hint of desperation. She didn’t speak, because she wasn’t certain what to say.
The silence lingered for a while, until he finally and abruptly said, “What if it doesn’t work?”
She answered without hesitation. “You’ll just have to keep doing what you’ve been doing. You’re making good progress, and you will walk again.”
He snorted. “With braces and shuffling along. I’ll never be whole again. Not unless this works.”
She let out a small sigh, torn between the need to caution him against getting too hopeful, and the fear of feeding his despair. “All you can do is try. If it doesn’t work, you’re not any worse off, and you just keep putting in the hard work. If it does help, then you’ll be independent that much faster. You’ll probably never race cars again, but you will be whole. You’re whole now.”
The conversation was remarkably similar to the one they had shared at the beginning of their acquaintance, but he hadn’t brought up the topic since. She wasn’t certain if he had been deliberately avoiding his anxiety, or if he had just been more confident until the moment was at hand and was now experiencing uncertainty. Either way, all she could do was reassure him and be there for him.
“Do you want to go out?” he asked.
She looked at him for a moment, studying him from the corner of her eye. His lips were pursed, and there was an aching sadness in his eyes that made her stomach spasm in sympathy. “Not particularly.” Of course she’d love to explore the city, but she had four weeks ahead of her to do that, and it was obvious he needed quiet and no prying eyes to work through his anxiety at the moment.
He let out a long sigh that seemed full of relief. “In that case, why don’t we order room service and watch a movie or something?”
She nodded her acquiescence as she got to her feet. “I think I’ll put on something more comfortable.”
He looked down at the suit he wore with a curl of his lip. “Me too. I’ll meet you back in the sitting room in fifteen minutes?”
She nodded. “You’ll call me if you need help?” For the most part, he had now reached the level where he could dress and undress himself, at least with a few accommodations that had been simple enough to order and easy enough to pack, especially with a private jet at their disposal.
He nodded as he rolled away from her, his shoulders stiff. Maybe she shouldn’t have made the offer, since it seemed to remind him of whatever thoughts were plaguing him. She certainly couldn’t retract it, so she decided to just let it be as she walked away from him and returned once more to her smaller room.
She changed into something comfy within five minutes and was back in the sitting room when he wheeled in ten minutes later. Dressed in his drawstring shorts and white tank top, she could almost fool herself into believing this was like any other night back at the royal palace, where they holed up in his room.
It felt comfortable, familiar, and cozy as he lifted himself from the chair and onto the couch. She curled up against him before reaching across for the room service menu. They had ordered within a few minutes and found something to watch. As the next hour ticked by, they ate and cuddled, and she pretended to watch the movie, though her attention remained focused on Bennet.
He was so quiet and clearly lost in his own thoughts, but he seemed comforted by her touch and the way she curled against him after they had finished eating. At some point midway through the second movie, she realized he was breathing softly and rhythmically. She sat up slightly and looked at his face, smiling when she saw how relaxed he looked in sleep. When she started to move away, his brow furrowed, and he made a noise in his sleep as his fingers curled, as though he was reaching for her. She leaned back against him, and his face smoothed out again.
She knew she should probably wake him so he could go to sleep in the bed instead of on the couch, but it was a huge, overstuffed sofa, with plenty of room for both of them. Instead of waking him, or moving so she could lay him out on the couch, she just snuggled closer and took the blanket from the back to cover them.
It was a rare indulgence to be able to spend the night with him just like this. Usually, she crept from his suite late in the evening or early in the morning to maintain the illusion they weren’t romantically involved. Being in the city might underscore the differences between them, but it also offered the perfect opportunity for her to just rest beside the man who was far more important to her than she had ever expected.
***
Dr. Rhodes was younger than she had expected, and probably not more than mid-forties. With his pale skin, blue eyes, and silvery blonde hair with a matching neatly trimmed beard, he reminded her of an elf, for some reason. Perhaps it was his lithe build and the way he seemed to hop around everywhere. It was as though he had so much energy he couldn’t contain himself for long.
He also clearly had an enthusiasm for his work, along with a deep faith in it. As he explained the process and depth to both of them, she was reluctantly impressed by the plan he laid out. They were farther along in their experiment than research had suggested.
“I don’t understand why I’m not getting the neural implant this time?” Bennet seemed upset by that, as revealed by the harsh set of his lips. “That implant helped the monkey walk again.”
She knew he must be referencing the study conducted by a doctor in Switzerland that she had run across during her own research. The results had been promising, but also frightening in the level of intrusiveness required. She was actually relieved he wasn’t getting a neural implant.
“It’s certainly a possibility that you’ll receive one on your next visit, Prince Casparian. However, I’d prefer we start with some stem cell therapy to heal you as much as possible. You might not even need the neural implants, but if you do, you’ll need time to recover from the stem cell infusions. It’s too much on your body to do both at the same time.”
Bennet looked like he wanted to argue, but he finally let out a deep sigh and nodded. “Fine, then what’s the next step?”
“If you reviewed the literature you requested, you know we use two types of stem cells. One comes from donor umbilical cord blood, and that’s prepared and ready to go. The other type is from you, so you’ll need to undergo a procedure to collect a sample of your bone marrow, from which we’ll grow stem cells. That takes a few days, and it gives you time to heal from the nee
dle insertion. If we put in the stem cells too early, they’ll naturally navigate to the site of where you have an injury, and we don’t want to distract them from their purpose by having them focus on your hip instead of your spine.
“After that, we’ll begin the spinal injections along with intravenous transfusions. As long as everything goes well, you’ll be done in four weeks. During that time, we ask that you have twelve sessions of physical therapy, which is where your physical therapist comes in.” The Dr. flashed her a quick smile before returning his attention to Bennet. “If you’re agreeable, we can get underway today. I have a lab tech waiting to take you to the procedure room to obtain your bone marrow.”
Bennet nodded, looking stoic. “I’m ready.”
“Then let’s begin.” The doctor clapped his hands together once before rubbing his palms. “I feel good about this procedure for you, Your Highness. I think you’re an excellent candidate, and Ms. Gaines has done a wonderful job of getting you into tip top physical shape.”
“Ms. Gaines has been very good for my body,” said Bennet with only the slightest hint of dryness.
She resisted the urge to glare at him as her cheeks heated slightly. She avoided looking at the doctor as well, hoping he hadn’t read more into Bennet’s words than he should have—not that they weren’t true.
“I’ll send in the technician. The sooner we begin, the sooner you’ll be through, and hopefully, you’ll be walking again that much faster.” With the same almost manic energy he had displayed to that point, he hopped up from behind his desk and practically jumped out of the room.
Harper reached for his hand and squeezed lightly. “Are you really ready for this?”
He looked grim, but also determined, when he nodded. “I am.”
***
Harper was impressed that his determination didn’t falter over the next four weeks. After the bone marrow sample extraction, he’d required rest for a couple of days, and then had felt like playing tourist in a low-key way. That had been their only real break, because once the infusions and injections started, he was closely monitored and had to stay at the clinic.
She visited him throughout the day, especially when it was time for physical therapy, but missed having him in the hotel, and especially missed having closeness with him. Not necessarily sex, but just having him nearby. The suite felt huge and empty without him, and though she distracted herself with the usual touristy things, it was never a full diversion from her thoughts and concerns for him.
Admittedly, those concerns had faded slightly over the intervening weeks as she had seen the progress he’d made. He was walking a few steps on his own now, though still required the wheelchair for transport. He was working as hard as ever in physical therapy, but he wouldn’t have made such quick strides without the stem cell treatment too. She was still worried about the neural implants, should he opt to have them, or Dr. Rhodes decided he was a candidate, but she was assuaged by the evidence that his clinic was doing something beneficial.
It was a relief to be heading home though, and she was startled to realize she was starting to think of the castle as home. That wasn’t a smart idea, because she was no closer to knowing how permanent of a fixture she was in Bennet’s life. There’d been no opportunity to discuss much of anything, and the few times they’d had time alone, she had shied away from the conversation.
Harper told herself it was because she didn’t want to distract him from his treatment, but part of her knew it was because she was afraid of the answer she might receive when she finally found the nerve to pose the question. In some ways, it was better not to know if there was no future for them, so she could at least immerse herself in the present and pretend there was hope for more.
Chapter Ten
Even the admonishment to herself that she shouldn’t consider the royal palace home couldn’t make it feel less like she was returning after a long absence to a welcome homecoming. The royal family had gathered to greet them, though she didn’t fool herself into believing that they were there for her. She was simply an accessory trailing behind the prince, but she was okay with that. Having them greet her in any other, more familiar way would mean they had realized there was something more to their relationship.
She was still aware of what a violation of her ethics it was to be sleeping with Bennet, even though she thought she had been fairly successful in separating her professional obligations from her personal feelings for him. They still had to be discreet.
As she made her way to the servants’ quarters after parting from the prince, each step felt like a lightening of her load. It was good to be back, and she couldn’t deny that. For however long it lasted, she should just enjoy the experience and certainly enjoy her time with Bennet.
She was feeling optimistic about everything when she stepped into her suite and dropped her suitcase near the bed. She was tired, but decided to sort through her mail before lying down for a nap. It was bundled neatly and waiting for her in a basket on her dresser, and she quickly flipped through it.
Most of the things were bills, which were all set up for auto pay, so she had no concerns there. There were no letters from her family, but that was because they all emailed and Skyped on a regular basis. The only other thing of interest or note was a large manila envelope. When she saw the sender’s address, her heart skipped a beat. The only other time she had received correspondence from the American Association of Physical Therapists had been after obtaining her degree and certification and receiving the certificate along with a thick booklet that laid out the expectations and rules for her licensure.
Her hands were shaking as she opened envelope, and she had a sense of foreboding even before she extracted what was in the packet. At first, the words blurred before her eyes, but she wasn’t crying. She was simply so nervous she couldn’t make her eyes focus. She closed them for a moment and breathed deeply before opening again.
This time, the words were sharply visible, and a stark condemnation of black font against crisp white paper. It didn’t take long to discover someone had filed a formal complaint about her, alleging she was involved in an inappropriate relationship with a patient. Her license was temporarily suspended pending review, and her hearing was set for August Fourth. Her eyes widened when she read that, and she cursed. That was in two days.
Her hands were still trembling, and the packet spilled through her fingers before she could stop it. When she bent down to pick it up, she realized there were three large black and white photos included in the packet. They were all of her and Bennet in intimate moments. There was no nudity, and nothing that could prove they were involved in a sexual relationship, but it was obvious from the looks they shared and the ways they were touching in the pictures that there was something more than professional ethics allowed for between them.
Without a clue about what to do, she felt the need to seek out Bennet. She tried telling herself she should be strong and handle it herself, but rereading the letter from the board was enough to send fear spiraling through her again, and she surrendered to it. In her haste, all she did was grasp the contents of the envelope and rush from her room. She hurried past Tucker, barely acknowledging his greeting, and made her way down the hallways to the prince’s room.
She knocked at his door before entering, too frantic to wait for permission. Fortunately, she found him alone and rushed to his side. There was no need to hide their relationship at the moment, and she was able to throw herself into his arms. He was obviously puzzled, but wrapped them around her just the same. “What’s wrong, Harper?”
She struggled to hold back tears as she forced herself to move far enough away from him to hand him the packet. She couldn’t bring herself to verbalize the accusations, so she waited until he had read it before speaking. “What should I do?” She should know what to do, and she should be able to figure it out for herself without relying on him, but at the moment, she was in need of help and was happy to allow him to assist her.
“We’l
l be there for this meeting.”
She frowned. “It’s in two days.”
He shrugged. “We have a fast private jet at our disposal. We’ll be fine.”
She licked her lips, tentatively asking, “We?”
His expression cooled slightly. “I assumed you’d want me to come with you, but if you don’t—”
Harper quickly shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I was just making sure that’s what you were offering. I know you should rest, and I hate to put you through a transcontinental journey at the moment, followed by the AAPT’S version of the Spanish Inquisition. I should say I don’t need you to come with me. I should be strong and independent about this, but…” She trailed off with a tremulous smile. “I’m glad I don’t have to be.”
He reached out and took her hand, squeezing her fingers gently. “I’m here for you, and we’ll get this settled.”
Harper couldn’t hold back a shaky laugh. “I don’t know how we’re going to do that. It’s not like it isn’t true. I’ve broken a major rule, and I deserve censure for my ethics violation.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re a skilled and competent physical therapist, and you motivated me to work my hardest to reach the maximum amount of recovery I could and still can. During the times you were doing physical therapy with me, you were nothing but professional. It’s none of their business what we do on your time off.”
She shrugged. “I agree with you, but I also know the rules are in place to protect vulnerable people. It is inappropriate for a physical therapist to be sleeping with her patient. If you were a different man, I could have been taking advantage of you.”
He snorted. “That’s my point, love. You wouldn’t do that. What’s happened between us is completely consensual, and it’s separate from the services you provide me in a healthcare capacity. I intend to tell them that too, the bloody busybodies.”
