“Good. I’ll set the wheels in motion.” He rose then, as if he’d sensed her inner turmoil, stopped in front of her chair, pulled her into his embrace and tucked her head underneath his chin. “This will work out, you’ll see.”
“I’m not as sold on the idea as you are,” she said wryly as she held herself stiffly against him.
“I have enough confidence for both of us,” he said before he tipped her chin up to kiss her.
The pressure of his mouth was gentle, his hold on her loose enough that she could break free if she wanted to, but that made all the difference. Instead of feeling trapped, she felt reassured, as if he’d transferred his faith to her through that small but intimate contact. Earlier in the day her instincts had told her she could trust him as a physician. Now her trust had somehow expanded to include the entire man.
As she inhaled his scent and found it utterly delightful, she relaxed against him, conscious of how this simple kiss had sealed their agreement in a way that mere words or a handshake could never have accomplished.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, he raised his head, and she pulled away as the special moment passed. Unsure of what to say or do next, she simply met his gaze and offered a small smile, which he returned.
“Your father would be proud of you,” he said simply.
She’d like to think so, but she also knew how strongly he adhered to his principles. “Would he? I’m not so sure he’d approve of a pretend romance. After all, we’re not being completely honest, are we?”
“We’re being honest enough. As for a romance, few will concern themselves with how it begins. Only with how it ends.”
Ruark strolled into Belmont’s ER the next morning with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. Last night had gone better than he’d initially hoped. In fact, he suspected the newscast had done more to persuade her than anything he’d said. No matter how it had happened, Gina had finally agreed, and that was all that mattered.
It wasn’t until he began the detailed tour of what would soon become her home that he realized the enormity of his situation.
He was getting married.
Acquiring Gina as his wife wasn’t a mere theory or a step-by-step plan any longer. Promises had been exchanged and he felt more committed now than he had when he’d first agreed to perform his duty.
He would have a spouse and, eventually, children to call his own.
The additional responsibility bore down on him, but he wasn’t afraid or nervous. As he’d kissed her, the most delightful hungry sensation had swept over him. Her feminine scent and the way she had felt in his arms had made it difficult to maintain his control. Pouncing on her while they had been sealing their bargain would have been completely inappropriate, but he would be patient. Their strong physical attraction seemed to confirm that they would enjoy the same companionship his parents did.
In spite of his parents’ urging over the years, he hadn’t met anyone he’d wanted to marry or whom he’d considered a potential bride until Gina. But with her, he’d felt an indefinable “click” between them, as if fate had already decreed they belonged together. That feeling was more important than the nebulous emotion of love that so many searched for and rarely found.
Her worries about him falling in love with someone after they were married were completely groundless. He’d been with plenty of women who’d professed to love him, then had left when their eyes had landed on someone else. Friendship, coupled with a significant dose of lust, was love enough for him and certainly didn’t make one as vulnerable. He wasn’t looking for, or expecting, more than that and he believed he’d made his feelings clear. He didn’t want her to harbor any false expectations.
As for Gina’s expectations, she’d been remarkably closemouthed during their tour of his home. He’d half expected her to balk and protest at sharing his bedroom, but she hadn’t. Her face had paled, but she hadn’t shown any other reaction. Instead, she’d tentatively asked if she could move her mother’s oak quilt stand into a corner.
It had been the first—and only—request she’d made. By then he would have agreed to anything just to see a smile.
Something inside him cautioned him on the importance of smoothing her transition into her new life. If not, they’d never develop the sort of amicable relationship he wanted, much less the sort necessary for their plan to work.
Yet he had other reasons for wanting to minimize the stress of a quick wedding. She’d looked lost, as if everything she’d ever known or believed in had been ripped out from under her and her forlorn expression had tugged at his gut.
When she found her footing again, he wanted to figure prominently in the picture, to be the rock she leaned on, just as his friends’ wives leaned on their husbands. It was the only way their relationship would work.
Of course, their mutual interest in medicine was a plus, and the physical attraction that arced between them practically guaranteed a successful marriage. He’d been resigned to performing his duty, but now he was actually looking forward to it.
In fact, he was quite glad the political analysts didn’t believe a mere engagement would solve Marestonia and Avelogne’s problems. Nothing but a wedding ring on her finger would prove the two families had worked through their differences, and he was more than happy to oblige.
While he might be eager to fulfill his royal obligations, Gina clearly was not. Working together would present ample opportunity to develop a relationship that would calm her fears, starting now….
He rounded the corner and saw her standing with several staff members at the nurses’ station, wearing a freshly starched lab coat over a deep purple scrub suit. Her shoulder-length hair gleamed under the fluorescent lights and reminded him of the young lioness he’d seen at the grand opening of the Marestonia National Zoo. Just seeing her made him forget his briefcase full of papers to review and the rainy-day forecast.
“Good morning,” he said casually as he approached, trying to tone down his enthusiasm at seeing her again.
Gina’s face turned a becoming shade of pink. “Good morning,” she mumbled warily.
Determined to set her at ease, he turned on his professional demeanor.
“Anything interesting?” he asked as he glanced at the board. Four rooms were occupied, which wasn’t unusual for a morning. After translating the shorthand, the diagnoses included emphysema, an orthopedic consult, a diabetic, and the one thing that sent people running to the ED—chest pain.
“Um, yeah, the orthopedic consult.”
“Unusual sports injury?”
“In a manner of speaking. A lady fell off her high heels. Poor thing.”
“What happened?”
“She’d overslept this morning and was running out to her car when her heel caught in a sidewalk crack. She started to fall, and twisted her knee in the hope she’d save her panty hose.”
“No kidding?”
“Hey, snagging one’s last pair of panty hose is serious business. Anyway, she landed wrong and heard her knee pop.”
“Torn ACL?” he asked, using the abbreviation for the anterior cruciate ligament.
“I’d say so, but I’m waiting for Tribble, the orthopedic surgeon, to drop by. If it is her ACL, she’s looking at surgery and lots of physical therapy. In the meantime, she’s icing her knee and swearing off high heels.” She smiled ruefully. “The price we pay for fashion.”
“You have to admit, high heels are rather sexy.”
“Really? You think so?” She sounded interested in his opinion.
“Trust me, they are.” He raised his briefcase as he dropped his teasing tone. “About our ceremony…”
“What about it?” she asked hurriedly, taking one step toward his office in an obvious attempt to hold their conversation in more private surroundings.
Sensing Lucy’s and the ward clerk’s interest, he didn’t budge. “It’s tomorrow night, eight o’clock. In the chapel upstairs.”
Her eyes widened. “How…? When…did you arrange tha
t?”
“‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way’.” He cheerfully quoted the cliché. “Actually, I’ve been busy this morning.”
In truth, he’d hardly slept at all last night. After he’d taken Gina home, he’d dialed his father’s private extension to break the news to his ecstatic parents. Not only did Gina’s acceptance signal the beginning of the end to their current problems, but their youngest son, who’d fiercely vowed to remain single, was getting married after all.
No doubt the palace staff had been as busy as his own after their conversation had ended.
“What ceremony?” Lucy asked, curiosity oozing out of her.
Ruark slid one arm around Gina’s waist and hugged her close. “We’re getting married and everyone’s invited.”
CHAPTER SIX
WE’RE getting married….
Ruark’s announcement couldn’t have been more shocking or exciting to the ER staff than a ten-million-dollar lottery win. Staff members suddenly appeared from out of nowhere and fired question after question until her head spun.
“How did you two meet? We want details,” someone cried out.
“How long have you planned this?”
“Are you going on a honeymoon?”
Gina had never run from problems before, but certainly wanted to now. Ruark had created this sideshow and he could deal with it, she thought unreasonably, yet she knew she belonged at his side. Leaving him to fend questions by himself would cause people to speculate and draw the wrong conclusions, which would cause the plan to fall apart.
So she allowed him to anchor her to his hip and tried to look like an excited soon-to-be bride. It was difficult at first, but being surrounded by his masculine scent, tucked under his arm and plastered against him helped her assume the role.
After her alarm had gone off that morning, she’d almost assured herself that yesterday, and more specifically last night, had been part of a strange quasi-nightmare, but as soon as Ruark had breezed in wearing a cheery smile and looking quite satisfied with the world, she knew she hadn’t dreamed a single minute.
Dinner, their bizarre conversation, agreeing to his marriage proposal—they had all actually taken place. And when he’d suggested they’d marry as soon as it could be arranged, she’d been half-afraid Ruark would whip a minister out of the closet by the time Henri served coffee and chocolate éclairs. She’d honestly believed she’d had at least a week, but a day? Why, she couldn’t think of a suitable item in her closet to wear!
Her wedding garment aside, she would have one final evening to herself. After that, she’d be with Ruark in one capacity or another twenty-four seven, which would be enough to send her into a panic, if she were the panicky sort.
Idly, she wondered if he realized she wasn’t a social butterfly, didn’t belong to any ladies’ or civic groups, and didn’t have any serious hobbies. She jogged for exercise, preferred quiet evenings at home or in the company of a few close friends, and had memorized the take-out phone numbers for nearly every restaurant within a two-mile radius of her apartment. If he was looking for a socialite, the proverbial Earth Mother, or Suzy Homemaker, he would be sorely disappointed.
Disappointing him concerned her, although why she should worry if she did or not, she didn’t know. She was what she was, and he would have to deal with her flaws and idiosyncrasies just like everyone else.
Fortunately, by the time she’d come to those terms, Ruark was finishing his speech. “We’ll expect you all there,” he told the excited staff moments before he tugged her into his office.
“Next time, could you give me a few minutes to pull my thoughts together before you drop your bombshells?” she asked waspishly as soon as they were alone. “Or maybe you’d like me to run out and announce who you really are, Your Royal Highness.”
“They’ll find out tomorrow when we make our vows,” he said, sounding unconcerned by her threat to expose his secret. “By the way, I need your house keys.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “What for? I’ll pack my own things, thank you very much.”
“Hugh and Joachim need access to your home in order to install a security system.”
“A security system?” she echoed. “Why?”
“Because it needs one,” he informed her. “Until we decide how we’re going to combine households, we either have a state-of-the-art system in place or I hire more security. Considering your place is rather small, I can either station people outside or bring in an RV to use as their base of operation.”
She shuddered, both from the thought of what the neighbors would think to the way he made it sound as if guarding her was a military exercise. The idea of anyone observing her every move, even for her own protection, was daunting and thoroughly foreign. She didn’t like it. Better to have an electronic watchdog than a real one.
“My keys are in my locker. I’ll get them.”
She hurried out and, after dodging the gauntlet of well-wishers, returned a few minutes later. “Here,” she said, dropping both the front and back door keys into his palm. “Anything else?”
“Not at the moment.”
With that, she fled, hoping, praying for a patient she could tend to. Luckily, she walked past several cubicles with charts waiting in the bins outside the doors. Grabbing the first medical record like a lifeline, she focused her attention on her job, although she soon found herself fielding situations that went beyond her new responsibilities. Ruark had been adamant about handling the administrative issues himself, so she passed them off to him all day long.
“Dr Sutton, Dr Casey called in sick again. He needs someone to take his place.”
“Tell Dr Thomas.”
“Dr Sutton, Central Supply says we can’t have three-cc syringes because they’re back-ordered. What do we want, ones or tens?”
“Tens, but tell Dr Thomas.”
“Dr Sutton, we have a patient who insists one of us misplaced his false teeth while he was here yesterday, but no one remembers a patient with dentures.”
“Tell Dr Thomas.”
Unfortunately, he bounced those same issues back at her. It wasn’t his fault. He was still trying to find his footing, but it meant she dealt with the problems twice. She simply had to be patient until he learned the ins and outs of their department’s management.
“Gina, where’s the list of locum physicians?”
“File cabinet, top drawer.”
“Gina, who’s in charge of Central Supply?”
“Jessie Ames. Extension 4125.”
Amazingly enough, he didn’t ask her to look into the missing denture problem, so when she interrupted him for a patient consultation, she brought up the subject herself.
“Oh, that,” he said when questioned. “He wasn’t our patient. He’d gone to St Bridgit’s, so I happily referred him over there.”
St Bridgit’s was a small hospital across town, about half the size of Belmont, but in spite of being Belmont’s competitor, they shared a congenial working relationship.
“I’m glad it was them and not us,” she commented, thinking of all the paperwork they’d been spared.
“Tell me about it,” he said fervently, before he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “What’s on your mind?”
Think of me as your husband first. Although he’d made that statement in regard to their hours spent privately, it was far too easy to think of him in that light every time she saw him. Perhaps once the shock wore off, she’d become better at compartmentalizing her life, but right now she was having difficulty separating Ruark, her future husband, from Ruark Thomas, her boss.
As his calm gaze met hers, she clutched the chart in her hand and forced herself to focus on her patient. “Roger Davis is sixty-three years old and has a history of type-two diabetes. He’s been vomiting since yesterday morning and hasn’t been able to keep anything down.”
“Has he taken his insulin?”
“He claims he has.” Gina ran through his symptoms. “He doesn’t have f
ever, diarrhea, headache, achiness or chest pain. As expected, his electrolytes show he’s slightly dehydrated so he’s presently on IV fluids.”
“Any history of GI problems?”
“None.”
“Lab work?”
“Pending. His bedside glucose was 405, which is four times the normal. Critical, in fact.”
“Food poisoning?”
“It’s possible,” she admitted. “Diabetics who are sick can have results in the two or three hundreds, but four hundred seems excessive for a simple case of food poisoning.”
“Want me to take a look?” he asked.
“Would you mind?”
She escorted him to room two. Mr Davis sat on the edge of the bed, wearing a green Hawaiian-print shirt and pressed tan slacks. His dark brown hair was clearly courtesy of a toupee, but the IV in his hand, coupled with him retching into a plastic basin in his lap, spoiled the effect of a vacationing businessman.
“This is Dr Thomas,” Gina announced. “And this is your lucky day. You get to see two of us for the price of one.”
“I don’t feel too lucky right now. In fact, I feel awful. Can’t you do something to stop me heaving up my insides?”
“We’re working on it,” Ruark promised. “Are you able to keep anything down? Water? Tea?”
“Not for long.”
“Are you having trouble urinating?”
“Haven’t noticed, so I guess not.”
He turned to Gina. “I want a urine sample.”
“He already gave one. We’re waiting for the lab report.”
Ruark turned back to Roger. “Sit tight. We’ll be right back.”
He nodded right before another spate of retching struck. The two of them left him clutching his emesis basin.
“Any ideas?” she asked once they’d stepped into the hallway.
“I know it’s easy for us to explain the unexplainable as a virus or food poisoning, but the other signs aren’t there.”
The Royal Doctor’s Bride Page 8
