He was exhausted.
He was embarrassed.
He was confused.
In the dim light, Gabrielle’s dark eyes were fixed on his. He could practically see the wheels spinning in her head.
She rocked on her heels as she watched him. Now she could see that he’d calmed down she was obviously contemplating what to do next.
This was a disaster. Not just for him, but for her too. She was Head of State, this was her first official royal banquet. She should be in the palace, attending to her guests—not out here with a man who was falling to pieces.
After a few minutes of silence she stood up and sat next to him on the bench. She rubbed her hands against her thighs. It was almost like she could read his mind. Like she knew he was already concocting a hundred reasons to explain what had just happened.
She took a deep breath and slid her hand over his, intertwining their fingers together. ‘What do you need?’ was all she said.
It threw him. He’d been expecting a whole wave of questions.
He looked up and out through the glass into the dark night. The gardens were peaceful, immaculate. If he hadn’t known the palace was just through the trees behind him, he could have sworn they were somewhere entirely private.
He said the first thing that came into his head. ‘I don’t know.’
Gabrielle pressed her lips together and nodded. She turned sideways on so she could face him and placed her hand on his chest. ‘From the moment I met you I’ve admired your physique, your muscles. But now I realise that the six-pack comes at a price. You’re too lean, Sullivan. And I know you don’t sleep well. You think I haven’t noticed, but you get up and pace around at night. Sleep is the one thing our body really needs. We need it to recharge. We need it to refresh ourselves. How long has this been going on?’
He swallowed, his mouth drier than he’d ever known it. She was leading him down a path, one he’d spent the last three years avoiding. Maybe not all the three years. But the symptoms had started pretty soon after his father’s funeral. They peaked and troughed. Just like now. Whenever he actually tried to focus some thoughts about what actually might be wrong, the symptoms intensified. Just as they did whenever he was due leave and might actually have to go home. Taking a call from Gibbs was always a relief.
It was almost like getting a licence for a few hours’ sleep again.
‘I can say it out loud if you can’t.’ There was definite sadness in her voice.
He’d disappointed her. Her hero doc wasn’t a hero at all.
He was just a guy who couldn’t hold it together.
She touched his cheek and shook her head. ‘But I don’t know if that will help.’ She lowered her gaze. ‘It was the Admiral, wasn’t it? It was seeing him. If I’d known that you knew him...’ Her voice tailed off.
‘You wouldn’t have invited him?’ The words came out much angrier than he’d intended.
She jerked and looked back at him. ‘I would have warned you,’ she said softly.
He cringed and closed his eyes. She might as well take a huge banner saying Sullivan is depressed and hang it from the palace.
He stood up and fastened the buttons on his shirt, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it back on. ‘I need some space.’
She stood up next to him and nodded, her expression hurt. He didn’t mean to be blunt but he couldn’t help it. There was no way he could go back into that room full of people. It didn’t matter that they had no clue what had just happened.
He knew.
Gabrielle knew.
That was more than enough people already.
Gabrielle picked up her skirt and took a few steps towards the entrance of the summerhouse. She turned back to look at him and licked her lips. ‘I’m here for you, Sullivan. I care.’ It was almost a whisper. Then she turned on her heel and disappeared through the trees.
Sullivan sagged backwards against the glass. How could she care? How could she care about a man who wasn’t really a man?
It didn’t matter that he was a doctor. It didn’t matter that he knew the fundamentals of depression. He’d recognised grief, depression, anxiety and PTSD in a number of his colleagues in Afghanistan.
He just couldn’t apply the same principles to himself.
This shouldn’t happen to him. This shouldn’t be his life.
But even as the thoughts crowded his head he knew how ridiculous they were. Depression could strike anyone, at any point, at any age, under any set of circumstances.
Gabrielle had vanished through the trees. His heart twisted in his chest.
He loved her. He wanted to love her.
But in order to do that fully, he had to deal with his own issues. He had to face up to the fact he wasn’t infallible. He wasn’t unbreakable.
Otherwise he could let the best thing that had ever happened to him slip through his fingers.
CHAPTER TEN
BEING A PRINCESS SUCKED.
Gabrielle didn’t want to be in a room smiling vacantly at visiting dignitaries and listening politely to their conversation. She wanted to be with the person who needed her right now.
The pain in his eyes had felt as if it had ripped her heart out of her chest. His struggle to accept he wasn’t perfect. He wasn’t the person who could do and be everything.
She didn’t want that for Sullivan. She’d never gone looking for a hero.
But Sullivan was too proud. He needed time. He needed space. She couldn’t be his doctor. She just had to be his friend.
And that was hard. She was used to fixing people.
But this wasn’t something she could fix. She couldn’t stick a plaster on his grief and magic it away.
He had to find that path himself. She only hoped he would let her walk it with him.
* * *
Sleep was becoming the invincible soldier. Too far from his grasp to really get hold of. When Arun knocked on his door after the break of day it was a welcome relief.
If he’d heard anything about last night he didn’t show it. ‘Dr Darcy, I just wondered what your plans were for the day.’
Sullivan rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He’d glanced in the mirror when he’d splashed water on his face earlier and knew they were bloodshot, ringed with black circles. He looked as if he’d gone ten rounds with a champion boxer.
The trouble was, his body felt as if he’d done ten rounds too. ‘I just planned on going to the hospital to review my patients. Nothing else. Did you have something else in mind?’
His answer came out automatically. He was a doctor. Of course he would go and review his patients. But was that really what he should be doing?
His mind had been haunted half the night with the sad expression on Gabrielle’s face as she’d walked away. She’d said she cared. Cared. It was a cryptic word.
He could have told her that he wanted to be free to love her. He could have told her that he did love her. But he didn’t want to go into this relationship damaged. He wanted to feel as if he could commit to Gabrielle. She deserved that. She deserved to have someone by her side who could support her in everything she did. Was he capable of that right now?
Last night, he’d had his first-ever panic attack when he’d came across someone in his father’s old dress uniform. It was clear he had a long way to go. Even if he was only admitting that now.
Arun was leaning against the doorjamb, giving him a cheeky kind of grin. ‘We chatted about the free clinics before in Mirinez. How would you feel about giving a helping hand today?’
His stomach did a kind of flip. He could find Gabrielle. They could talk about last night. He could sit for a few hours and re-evaluate his life. His plan. He could book a ticket home and spend some time—some real time—at the house he’d been avoiding. He could find another doctor—or a counsellor—to gi
ve him steps to help him deal with his grief.
Old habits were hard to break.
Work was always a welcome distraction. He gave Arun a nod of his head, reached for a T-shirt and pulled it over his head. ‘Let me brush my teeth and I’m all yours.’
* * *
She couldn’t interfere. She couldn’t.
But every single cell in her body wanted to interfere in every way possible.
She knew people. People who could help Sullivan if he’d let them.
She wanted to take him by the hand and lead him to that first appointment. Or be the person who sat down next to him while he just talked. She wanted to look at Sullivan’s face and not notice the dark circles under his eyes and know that he’d barely slept any of the night before.
She’d walked along to his apartments earlier and found the door wide open and the place empty. For a few seconds panic had descended. He’d left. He’d walked out.
It didn’t matter that she knew she could never keep him here. The thought of Sullivan leaving without a word hurt more than she could comprehend.
She’d rushed into the rooms, glimpsed the rumpled unmade bed, a drawer hanging open, and felt as if a cold wind had just rushed over her skin. But his toiletries were still in the bathroom, his backpack still in the cupboard next to his kicked-in baseball boots. Relief washed over her. He was still here—somewhere.
She made a few casual enquiries via the security staff and found out Sullivan had gone somewhere with Arun.
St George’s was quiet. The staff here were ruthlessly efficient. All the patients from the mining accident were well taken care of. Some were ready to be discharged. Her reviews took less than hour. In truth, these patients could be handed over to the care of the other doctors now, but she was enjoying her time here. She was trying to fathom out a way whereby she could keep working as a doctor, as well as function as Head of State.
Every day the list of urgent things to do seemed to diminish just a little. Several of the key issues had been resolved solely by hosting the state banquet and talking to colleagues face to face. Which meant that ultimately she would have time to take a breath and decide how to manage her life.
One of the nurses gave her a wave. ‘There’s a call for you, Princess Gabrielle. Do you want to take it here?’
She nodded and reached over for the phone, then paused, unsure what title she should use. She shook her head then went with her instincts. ‘This is Dr Cartier, what can I do for you?’
Sullivan’s voice washed over her like a warming balm. ‘Gabrielle. I think you might need to come down to one of the community clinics. I’m almost certain I’ve got a case of TB for you.’
‘You’re working?’ She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice and cringed as soon as the words came out loudly.
‘Of course I’m working. What else would I be doing?’
She winced. She could almost see the expression on his face as he said those words. ‘Nothing. Of course. Which clinic are you in?’
She scribbled down a few notes about the patient. ‘I can be there soon. Arrange for an X-ray in the meantime and I’ll be there soon.’
‘There’s another thing. I’ve got two children who’ll need some attention. One boy has symptoms of appendicitis. He needs scans and probably surgery today. And there’s another with a previously undiagnosed cleft palate. He’s almost four and has problems with eating and with his speech. It’s not an emergency but this should have been picked up at birth. The family have no insurance. I’m not leaving a child like this.’
She could hear the frustration in his voice and instantly sympathised. She took a second, remembering where the clinic was situated, compared to the nearest hospital with facilities for children. ‘Okay, tell Arun the kids will be going to St Ignatius’s. I’ll phone and make the arrangements. How sick is your first little boy? Do you need an ambulance to transfer him?’
She could hear a conversation going on between Sullivan and Arun.
Something inside her recoiled. That inbuilt ethic—a doctor instantly putting his patients first and treating them. She would never expect anything else from Sullivan.
But she was also aiding Sullivan’s avoidance.
If she’d known he was going to work at the community clinic this morning she could have offered to go in his place. But then he would probably have been offended.
She just didn’t know what to do. She just wasn’t sure how to help. If she pushed him towards therapy or medication he might walk away. He might think she was interfering. And she would be.
Was that allowed?
All she knew was that she didn’t want to see Sullivan suffer any more. But how did she help all that if she couldn’t interfere—just a little?
She grabbed her coat and bag, signalling to Mikel that she wanted to leave. The Corborre clinic was only ten minutes from here. But as soon as she reached the car, a call came through from Franz.
‘Princess Gabrielle, you’re needed at the palace urgently.’
She sat forward in her seat. ‘What’s wrong? Something else at the mine?’
Franz hesitated. ‘No. We’ve made some further...discoveries.’
‘Discoveries?’
She had no idea where this was heading.
‘About Prince Andreas.’
Her stomach rolled over. ‘Has something happened to him? Is he all right? Do you know where he is?’
She heard Franz sigh. ‘No. We still haven’t tracked him down. We have heard some rumours he’s in Bermuda.’
‘Bermuda?’ Why would he go there? ‘So what’s wrong, then?’
‘It might be better to discuss that in person.’
Gabrielle felt her heart sink. She could only imagine what would come next. ‘Actually, Franz, I’m on my way to see a patient at the Corborre clinic. Whatever it is that Andreas has done, just tell me.’
In her head she could hear the drum roll. Franz finally spoke. ‘It seems that the one million euros wasn’t entirely accurate. We’ve found another account with diverted funds. To a bank—’
‘In Bermuda,’ she finished. She leaned forward and put her head in her hands. Franz hadn’t continued and the silence was ominous.
‘What else?’
‘We think there are a number of items missing from the palace.’
She wrinkled her brow. ‘What do you mean?’
Franz cleared his throat. ‘There’s another safe—one that Prince Andreas used privately.’
Gabrielle nodded. ‘Yes, it’s in the study in my apartments. I haven’t even looked at it. Was something in there?’
‘The Moroccan diamond and the Plantagenet emerald.’
‘What?’ Beside her, Mikel jumped at the shrillness of her voice.
‘But they’re family heirlooms.’ The Moroccan diamond was over thirty-five carats and the emerald over forty carats. They’d been part of the family collection for hundreds of years and had moved between royal sceptres and crowns.
‘We think there might also be a missing painting and...some other items.’
She leaned back and put her hand on her forehead. She could only imagine what the missing items might be. The palace was full of gorgeous pieces that had been received over the last few hundred years. Fabergé eggs, Ming vases, medieval tapestries, Egyptian artefacts and even some of Henry VIII’s armour.
‘I want an inventory started immediately,’ she said. ‘And I want advice from the palace lawyers. This can’t be kept secret for long. If I have to issue a warrant for my brother’s arrest, I will.’
There seemed to be a stunned silence at the end of the phone. Gabrielle closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘We’ll talk later. I have patients to see.’
She finished the call.
She would give anything right now to be bac
k in Narumba with Sullivan. Before she’d known she had to be Head of State. Before he’d known she was a princess. And before she’d known that the man she loved was crippled by grief.
It was selfish. She knew that. And the instant the thought appeared she pushed it aside. Things were just overwhelming her.
The brother she’d loved and grown up with had betrayed her and their country for purely selfish motives. She still couldn’t quite believe it.
No wonder she’d spent the last three years in a totally different world. One where patients were the central focus, instead of the welfare of a whole country. She’d never wanted that life back more than she did at this moment.
She watched as the city streets flashed by her window. In an ideal world she’d tell Sullivan exactly what her brother had done. But he already had enough to deal with. He didn’t need her problems too.
* * *
The transfer of the children went relatively smoothly. Sullivan was greeted by yet another hospital administrator who re-checked his credentials more times than entirely necessary and made him sign what felt like a billion forms.
Appendicitis was quickly confirmed with one of the boys and Sullivan scrubbed in with one of the hospital’s regular surgeons to perform the surgery. The other little boy had some tests ordered and a review by an ENT specialist, who scheduled him for surgery the following day.
Sullivan waited until the little boy with appendicitis was in Recovery and had woken up before he left.
He waved off Arun as he offered to take him back to the palace. ‘I’m going to go back to the clinic. Let me walk. It will do me good and I’ll see some of the city.’
Arun gave him a careful nod and disappeared.
Night was just starting to fall in Chabonnex. The streets were bathed in a mixture of orange lights and purple hues from the sky. People were moving around. It was easy to spot the tourists. Cameras and phones were permanently in their hands and most of them were talking loudly.
St Ignatius’s was on the outskirts of the city centre. There were still some buildings of interest nearby, but as he moved along the street it was clear he was moving towards a less affluent area of the capital.
The Doctor and the Princess Page 14
