The Royal Doctor’s Bride

by Jessica Matthews

  She was amazed by his unerring accuracy. “How do you know that?”

  “You would be surprised what I know, but I can safely say you won’t run away.” He ticked off his points on his fingers. “One, you need a job, so you either must keep this one or find another. Two, you won’t find another without a reference and guess who currently is responsible for writing one on your behalf?

  “Three,” he continued, “your contract states you must give ninety days’ written notice. If you fail to honor those terms, we’re back to reason number two. So, your argument about marrying a stranger is inconsequential because, one way or another, we’ll be together for the next three months. We won’t be strangers for long.”

  Darn the man, he was right!

  “And if I refuse your gracious proposal?”

  He raised one eyebrow. “I’m known to be quite persuasive.”

  She didn’t doubt that a bit. Having met him less than twelve hours ago, she’d already seen evidence of his dogged determination to succeed at any cost. Plus, she was on his turf, without any form of transportation other than her own two feet, which meant he could hold her here for hours. Clearly, the odds of standing her ground weren’t in her favor.

  “Why are you accepting arrangements made without your consent?” she wanted to know. “It isn’t as if you’re the heir apparent. If you can choose your own career, you can surely choose your own wife.”

  As she spoke, she wondered what sort of woman he would have married if given the choice. Irrationally, the thought that she might not have attracted his attention under normal circumstances pricked her self-esteem.

  “I can,” he assured her. “For me, though, this is a matter of family honor and duty.”

  How could she argue with something so intangible, yet so powerful? “Just what every woman wants to hear,” she said dryly. “A proposal offered out of duty.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather I had pursued you for several weeks, professed enduring love and then rushed you to the altar? Eventually, you would have learned the truth and hated me for my dishonesty, which wouldn’t have boded well for any marriage.”

  Once again, he was right, and she found his uncanny perception as irritating as his impersonal proposal. “What if I already have a fiancé?” she blustered.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  RUARK smiled, as if he knew she was grasping for an excuse. “You don’t. You haven’t dated anyone seriously for a number of months.”

  At least he hadn’t pointed out her last date had been for the previous year’s hospital Christmas party. Even so, he didn’t need to sound so pleased with himself for pointing it out.

  “I know more about you, Gina,” he continued, “than you think I do.”

  What a scary thought. “There has to be an alternative,” she said, desperately trying to think of one and failing miserably.

  “If you think of one that our diplomats and scholars have overlooked, I’m willing to listen.”

  She had nothing, at least at the moment. “Look,” she began, “for your plan to work, you’re assuming we’re compatible. What if we’re not?”

  “What if we are?” he countered. “We’ll never know if we don’t put in an effort.”

  She argued her case from another angle. “Why don’t you issue a press release announcing that you proposed but I refused? You can claim you tried to do the right thing, but I didn’t co-operate.”

  “Do you think my countrymen will be satisfied once they hear you’ve rejected their prince without cause, after knowing him less than twenty-four hours? They’ll take it as a personal insult.”

  “Better to feel insulted than manipulated,” she pointed out. “Knowing you proposed less than a day after meeting me isn’t going to promote good public relations either. Neither is inventing a story to fool millions of people. Two wrongs don’t make a right and being anything less than perfectly honest is a prescription for disaster.”

  “Stretching the truth goes against the grain with me, too,” he admitted, “but we simply state the barest of facts and allow the press to draw their own conclusions. As luck would have it, we both attended the emergency medicine conference in Los Angeles six months ago. Registration records from both the conference and the hotel will prove it to anyone who questions us. People will logically believe we met and struck up a long-distance romance that led to me relocating to Belmont.”

  “You were at the conference?” Granted, there had been thousands in attendance, but how could she have missed him?

  “All five days,” he assured her.

  This whole situation was spiraling more and more out of control. “Am I the only one who sees the inherent failure in this so-called plan?”

  “We won’t allow it to fail. It’s the best solution, as far as I can see.”

  The man had to be blind, she thought, exasperated by his calm acceptance of the situation. “I don’t know the first thing about being a princess. And in case you haven’t noticed, things like this just aren’t done these days!”

  “Being a princess won’t be any different than being a countess. You’ll wake up every morning, go to work, and come home at night to your family.”

  Family. The term implied a husband, children, and everything associated with them—piano recitals, ball games, school events. She’d wished for relatives after her mother had died in a car accident and she’d had no one left except her father, but the demands of medical school and her career had pushed those dreams to the back of her mind. Realizing they could now be within reach, that they now fell in the realm of probability rather than possibility, was almost more than she dared to imagine. More importantly, the prospect of Ruark playing a prominent role in that scenario caused her toes to curl.

  Yet, she’d learned a few lessons over the years. Few situations were as simple as they initially appeared.

  “You’ve clearly forgotten how I was raised. My royal background was simply historical information, like having an ancestor who served in the First World War. It didn’t factor into who I am today.”

  “Perhaps not entirely,” he agreed. “We chose medicine as our profession and I doubt if either of us will give it up, so the major part of our lives won’t change. Oh, we may have to appear at a diplomatic event every now and then but, I can assure you, those instances are rare. Probably a few times a year.”

  He was entirely too agreeable to a scenario that could end in a lifetime of disaster. She narrowed her gaze. “What’s in this for you? Is someone giving you the keys to the national treasury, or what?”

  His eyes reflected his gentle smile. “I had my doubts, too,” he admitted, “but when I considered the repercussions if I refused to put the needs of my people before my own, my worries seemed insignificant in comparison.”

  While she hadn’t expected him to swear undying love after a few hours and wouldn’t have believed him if he had, she would like to think she was more than another obligation he had to fulfill. And yet it was silly to wish for that—they’d only met ten hours ago.

  “I realize this idea is difficult to consider, much less accept,” he said kindly. “But your father worked tirelessly to prevent what you saw from happening thirty years ago. Are you willing to let it happen today, when you have the power to prevent it?”

  People matter, Gina, not things.

  Knowing how much her father had loved Avelogne, she found herself actually giving Ruark’s proposal serious thought…

  “I don’t want my father’s efforts to have been in vain,” she admitted, “but marriage should be based on more than politics, especially if it’s supposed to endure through good times as well as bad.”

  “Ours will be,” he assured her. “We have enough common interests to form a foundation for a satisfying life together.”

  Common interests. A satisfying life. It sounded as exciting as a bland diet. “When have you and your cronies planned this happy event, provided I agree, of course?”

  “As soon as it can be arranged.�
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  “As soon as…?” She didn’t attempt to hide her shock. Marrying Ruark at some distant point in the future was a difficult enough concept to wrap her head around, but doing so as soon as possible? A shiver went down her spine, but she couldn’t decide if fear or some twisted sense of anticipation caused her reaction.

  “Why the rush? Why not, say, six months?” Surely in that length of time the crisis would resolve itself or she would find a another solution.

  “Six months? Impossible. Time is of the essence. Discontent grows with every day we delay.”

  She’d seen the newscast, so she couldn’t argue his point. “Yes, but rushing to the altar will only raise more questions.” She eyed him closely. “I do hope you aren’t going to hint a royal baby’s involved.”

  He grinned. “That’s an idea no one’s considered. I’m sure we’ll make beautiful babies.”

  A mental picture of a long, lean masculine form tangled in sheets, his whisker-rough face relaxed in sleep as he spooned his body against hers created a sudden and unsettling ache in her core. She rubbed her forehead with an unsteady hand to dispel the image, and it instantly changed. A boy with Ruark’s dark hair and impish smile appeared, followed by a little girl who resembled Gina in her childhood photos. They were definitely beautiful children, but this wasn’t the time to think about offspring.

  She drew a cleansing breath as she blinked away the vision. “Whether we will or won’t isn’t the issue,” she stated firmly. “The point is, don’t you dare suggest I’m pregnant because I can guarantee your story will backfire.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Will it?”

  Something in his eyes suggested that he wouldn’t mind making a baby a reality. As for her, the notion of sharing a bed, feeling his intimate touch on her bare skin, was enough to send another wave of heat coursing through her. Marrying a man out of duty—a man she’d just met—wasn’t supposed to cause such an intense reaction, was it?

  She struggled to rein in her thoughts. “We aren’t going to muddy the waters any more than they already are,” she ordered, hoping he hadn’t noticed how breathless she sounded.

  He paused. “Perhaps it’s for the best,” he mused, “but, as I said before, time is our enemy. Parliament will vote at the end of October to sever diplomatic ties, so the sooner we act, the better.”

  “Maybe everyone will be satisfied with an engagement announcement,” she suggested hopefully.

  He shook his head. “If we don’t follow through with a wedding, the whole plan will seem contrived and we’ll have worse problems. There’s truly no sense in prolonging the inevitable.”

  Reluctantly, she saw his point. Better to rip off the adhesive bandage rather than tear it off in tiny, painful increments. “Tell me how this is going to work,” she said tiredly, hoping he hadn’t noticed how she’d slipped and used the present tense.

  “I’ll arrange for a civil ceremony as soon as possible. Once our union is official, my father will announce our marriage and we’ll begin our life as a couple.”

  A civil ceremony. Not quite the wedding she’d imagined but, then, she’d never dreamed about marrying a man she didn’t love in a business arrangement.

  “How do you explain why we’re not having an official state wedding?”

  “You want to be married in the US because it’s been your home,” he said simply. “With your father deceased, you preferred a private gathering with only your closest friends. No one will question your decision.”

  “Other than we’re rushing into this.”

  “Rushing only adds to the romanticism,” he assured her. “Especially if we hint at our impatience to be together after I moved to Belmont.”

  He’d thought of everything, which irritated her. “Am I allowed to choose my own dress, or have you organized that, too?”

  He went on as if he hadn’t noticed the sarcasm in her voice.

  “After the ceremony, we act as any married couple. A few photos and a couple of carefully screened interviews should convince everyone in Marestonia and Avelogne to put the past behind them.”

  “And if we fight like cats and dogs?”

  His now-familiar half-smile appeared. “We won’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Gut feeling.”

  “And if you’re wrong?”

  “I’m not.”

  “But if you are?” she persisted.

  He leaned forward. “We’re both adults and know what’s at stake. We have to make this work, Gina. We can make it work.”

  He sounded so certain, but was he trying to convince himself or her?

  She couldn’t deny her physical attraction to him, but she’d always imagined experiencing a grand passion. Considering how her father had sacrificed everything to marry the woman he’d loved, how could she do any less, no matter how handsome or charming the man was? And yet how could she ignore the repercussions if she didn’t do something to calm the troubled waters?

  “You may not find me as distasteful as you imagine.”

  He’d spoken lightly, but she sensed his hurt. He’d argued his case in such coolly logical terms that she’d forgotten her lack of co-operation was as much a rejection of him as it was for the plan he’d presented.

  Her face warmed and she tried to minimize the damage. “I’m sorry, Ruark. My objections aren’t directed toward you personally. I’d always imagined I’d have a marriage like my parents’, not one borne out of convenience or duty. And certainly not one that was forced upon me to solve a national crisis.”

  He nodded, as if he understood. “It does take a bit of time to grow accustomed to the idea.”

  She met his gaze. “How long did it take you to become a willing participant in this…this plan?”

  He shrugged. “You forget I was raised to place my country’s needs before my own. If one looks at the big picture, there are far worse things I could do than marry a beautiful woman who shares my passion for medicine.”

  She wondered if he was simply spouting flattery to get on her good side, but there probably were worse things she could have been asked to do. However, at the moment she couldn’t think of what could be worse than marrying a man she’d just met, regardless of how attractive he was.

  “And if this grand scheme doesn’t work?” she asked. “If people don’t care about our marriage?”

  “They will,” he assured her. “Trust me.” He paused. “Are you willing to marry me, Gina?”

  Ruark’s question hung in the air. Was she willing?

  Hardly, she thought. Unfortunately, as Gina glanced at the now-darkened television screen, the newscast and Ruark’s predictions haunted her. As much as she hated to be a pawn, she was her father’s daughter, which meant she had to uphold her father’s reputation. How well would the people of his homeland remember him if she, as his daughter, ignored their problems?

  She may not have been raised under the same strict code of duty and honor that Ruark had been, but she, too, had learned similar lessons from her father. More importantly, she carried enough royal blood in her veins to know she couldn’t besmirch Arthur Sutton’s memory or do anything that would reflect poorly on her beloved papa. Holding out for a so-called “grand passion” that might never occur was too high a price to pay.

  “I’ll go along with the plan,” she reluctantly agreed, “but I’m concerned about one thing.” She met his gaze with steel in her own.

  “Which is?”

  “What if you meet someone else? Someone you fall in love with? What then?”

  “I won’t.”

  She eyed him with skepticism. “You don’t know that.”

  “I’m thirty-five years old, Gina. I’ve dated my share of women and been involved in a number of relationships. Falling in love is an overrated concept, especially when one considers the problems Margret’s so-called love for your father has created,” he added dryly. “Far better for both parties to build a relationship on respect and mutual interests rather than on something
as changeable as emotions.”

  Thinking of her parents’ love for each other, the lengths they had gone to just to be together, she disagreed. “You have a rather cynical view.”

  He shrugged. “The best one can hope for is congenial companionship. I believe we can find it in the course of carrying out our duty.”

  He’d used that word again. Duty. Never had such a tiny word carried such a heavy burden, but she’d made a promise. As she studied her future husband, a variety of emotions swirled around her. Marriage to a handsome man who wore sex appeal like a well-fitting garment was both exciting and nerve-racking. For a woman who’d placed the prospect at some distant point in the future, knowing that the future was now was quite scary, too.

  “Let’s hope so,” she agreed. “But this marriage…” She paused. “You truly want it to be real.”

  He nodded. “In every sense.”

  Once again, her hand trembled. “Yes, but—”

  “We won’t be convincing if it isn’t,” he said gently.

  “I know, but making…” Knowing his views on the subject, she bit off the word “love” and corrected herself. “Having sex with a stranger, much less my boss, is going to be difficult.”

  “Not if you think of me as your husband first.”

  Husband. Her mouth suddenly went dry at the thought.

  “But,” he continued, nodding as if he understood her dilemma, “I understand your concerns so I’ll give you time to adjust.”

  “How much?”

  He met her gaze and the heat she saw in those depths reminded her of a lion she’d seen on television eyeing a tasty doe. “We’ll play it by ear,” he finally said.

  While she would have preferred a specific date, knowing he would give her the luxury of getting to know each other first helped ease her mind about their quasi-business arrangement. “OK.”