by Robin Gianna
“Ah, Gabriella.” His eyes met hers, and that darned twinkle still lingered, making her feel embarrassed all over again. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of seeing your patient before you arrived, as my first patient isn’t here yet.”
She could feel hot color rushing into her cheeks again, annoyed as all get-out at her reaction to seeing him there. Somehow she bit back the words she wanted to say, which were, Yes, I do mind, as a matter of fact. I’m trying to stay away from you!
“Of course not. How are you feeling, Megan?”
“Absolutely great! I was just telling Dr. Moreno that my yoga instructor is so impressed with my workouts. I mean, I’m doing every bit as much at eight months along as I did before I got pregnant.”
“As long as you’re feeling good when you exercise, that’s very healthy for you and your baby.” She made herself turn to Rafael, and the power of that green gaze nearly choked her.
“I’m sure I’ll be fit enough for the minor role Daddy has in mind for me in the film he’s starting this summer. I told Rafael he should come to the set.”
“Megan’s father’s films are among my favorite thrillers,” he said. “I particularly enjoyed that scene in his last movie where one of the main guys showed up in the heroine’s bedroom, and she didn’t know until then that he wasn’t her friend but the terrifying killer instead. Scary stuff.”
The wicked glint in those green depths was both irritating and unnerving, since it sent her thoughts right back to what she’d been trying so hard not to think about. Which was the feel of his hard, warm body against hers, and how he’d looked in those boxer shorts.
“So,” she said, desperately trying to change the subject, “have you examined Megan yet, Dr. Moreno?”
“I thought I’d leave that to you, along with getting her vital signs. Just wanted to introduce myself before the big day arrives.”
“Surely you won’t still be working here in another month, will you?” If her voice held a trace of panic, she couldn’t help it. “I thought this was a brief pit stop in your life.”
“I expect I will be staying a while. I’m enjoying my time in L.A. and here at The Hollywood Hills Clinic. The staff is most...interesting, and I hope to get to know everyone much better.”
Gabby dropped the blood-pressure cuff on the floor, then had to take the reading twice she was so distracted by Rafael’s teasing. Which she knew full well it was—for some reason, he was enjoying yanking her chain and making her blush again.
“I’m about to do your internal exam now, Megan, okay?” She turned to Rafael with a saccharine-sweet smile, hoping her narrowed eyes told him exactly how irritated she was without showing, again, how he rattled her. “So you’re free to see if your patient has arrived, Dr. Moreno.”
“Why do I get the feeling the boss is tossing me out on my ear?” He turned that lethal grin on Megan. “See you next time you’re in. You have my contact information if you need me.”
Remarkable how the minute the man was out of the room, Gabby was able to focus on her patient and her job without dropping or forgetting a single thing. Pitiful. Which meant that, if Rafael was really going to be sticking around for a while, somehow, some way she’d have to get a handle on her ridiculous, distracted hormones.
* * *
Chuckling to himself as he walked down the hallway to see his patient, Rafael reflected on how easy it was to get under Gabriella’s skin, and how much fun it was. She was such a complex mix of characteristics combined in a fascinating way, all bundled up inside a beautiful, touchable package. Sweet and smart, feisty and a little shy all at the same time, he wanted to spend more time with her. Learn a lot more about what made her tick.
He might have gotten off on the wrong foot with her initially, but he knew she found him attractive now as well. Last night when he’d held her in his hands and her wide eyes had looked up at him in the dark bedroom, he’d seen the way her lips had parted; had felt her quickened breaths skating warm and fast across his skin. The rise and fall of her chest had been less about her fear and more about sexual attraction—he knew because he’d felt the same hot vibration. Then she’d tried to cover up the zing happening between them with pretend indignation. Zing that had been a two-way street—it had taken all his won’t-power to resist the urge to pull her closer for a kiss, to see where all that heat shimmering between them might lead.
Except he’d then figuratively smacked himself with the reminder that he was supposed to be lying low in L.A. “Behaving himself,” to quote his parents, and dating “appropriate” women, whatever the hell that meant. Apparently not strippers, or those whose faces graced the gossip magazines, and why any of that was a big deal, he didn’t understand.
It wasn’t as though a single one of them would ever get an engagement ring from him. Seeing the various loveless marriages in his family, not to mention what James’s parents’ relationship had been like, Rafael figured that kind of commitment would be sheer purgatory. Why in the world would he want to handcuff himself to one woman forever if he didn’t have to?
Short-term handcuffing, though? Now, that he was all for. Thinking about something short, sweet and hot with Gabriella put the smile back on his face, only it quickly faded because, damn it, he couldn’t let that happen, with the media and his parents breathing down his neck.
Seeing his next patient got his thoughts back on track, and as he was about to go to the nurses’ station to discuss her chart, the sound of his name on the large, wall-mounted television in the patient’s room stopped him in mid-step. He looked up at the screen to see what ridiculous, untrue story was being spread on the TV gossip shows now.
To his shock, the photos were of the cliffside mansion he was renting, with two people in front of it. Pictures of him carrying a sleeping Gabriella inside, then of the two of them leaving in the morning, with sensationalized questions and speculation about who Prince Rafael Moreno’s late-night booty call might be this time.
Damn it to hell. What had he just said about his parents breathing down his neck? This time they’d probably be belching pure fire. He glanced at his patient and her nurse, glad they were too busy talking to pay attention to the stupid television. He wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his lab coat, thankful the photos were distant and grainy enough that nobody would likely be able to figure out who the woman was. He hoped Gabriella didn’t get wind of the story, and hoped even more that she wouldn’t suffer any embarrassment from it. Already, he knew she wasn’t the kind of woman who would appreciate being part of a media frenzy, which was one of several good reasons he’d been telling himself he had to keep his hands off her.
Anger surged into his veins on her behalf. The hard-working, exhausted woman couldn’t even fall asleep in his car without untrue rumors being spread, and he wished he could contact the TV programmers with a vehement rebuttal, telling them to lay off.
But experience had taught him that kind of thing just inflamed the gossipmongers even more. With any luck, the hounds would back off when they couldn’t figure out who she was, and the story would die a quick death.
For Gabriella’s sake, and for his too, he hoped like hell that was exactly what would happen. Seeing the photos in his mind again as he strode from the room to update the charts, he nearly ran into Freya.
“Rafael.” A smile played about Freya’s lips and she lifted an eyebrow. “I hear your patients love you, so thanks for stepping in. Also sounds like you’re very much...enjoying your time in L.A.?”
“Not as much as I’m given credit for, I can tell you that,” he said, somehow keeping his voice cool and amused, even as his stomach felt a little queasy. “The story of your life and mine, isn’t it?”
“Stories aren’t always fiction.” Her smile widened, and she walked away without another word.
Trying to get the annoying voice of the TV host out of his head, a
long with the blurry images he hoped Gabriella wouldn’t have to see, he concentrated on the computerized patient charts until his phone interrupted him.
Then he knew the day was going downhill even faster when he saw it was his mother, and his gut clenched with the certain knowledge that their palace spies had informed her of the latest gossip fest.
“Buenos días, Mother. It’s wonderful to hear your voice.” Or would be, if their conversation was going to be about the palace horses or her latest fundraiser or something else pleasant and benign, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be that lucky.
“Rafael. What do your father and I have to do to make you understand your position in life? Your responsibilities? We might not have liked that you chose to do something like doctoring instead of accepting your traditional role here, but we have learned to live with it. That doesn’t give you the right, though, to disregard your family’s status completely and do whatever you wish! I thought the latest scandal had taught you that. You said that’s why you went to L.A. for a while, to behave! And yet here you are, the subject of gossip again. When are you going to marry a nice girl and be done with this? When—?”
“Mother.” He’d gritted his teeth and held the phone from his ear during her long diatribe, but finally managed to cut her off when she took a breath. “If you’re talking about the stupid TV news, I can assure you it’s nothing. I’m working for a time in James’s clinic, and a co-worker and I had work to discuss. She fell asleep and...” This time he cut himself off. Why the hell should he have to defend himself to anyone, including his mother, about something completely innocent? Was it his fault he’d been second born into a royal family, and because of that was a chronic disappointment and annoyance to his parents? His fault that the paparazzi liked to stalk him? As for getting married, she might as well save her breath, because that was never going to happen. “You know, I’m done with this conversation. Is there something else you’d like to talk about?”
“We need to get this ironed out first. If you—”
“Goodbye, Mother. Call me if you want to talk about something besides how much my being a doctor and a heathen embarrasses you.”
Under normal circumstances, he would have felt bad hanging up on his mother, even when she was scolding him. But this subject had been beaten to death for months, and he’d moved here to escape the gossip his parents despised. He couldn’t handle one more minute of being accused of something he hadn’t done. Hadn’t he been doing his best to be the outstanding representative of his country his parents wanted him to be?
Anger and frustration had him wanting to punch something, and he knew he needed a calming distraction. And the one thing that always gave him perspective and helped him remember what was really important was spending time with innocent new babies, some of whom were struggling with far more serious problems than he had. Much more important than parental disapproval and gossip and damned fabrications that shouldn’t be more than an inconvenient annoyance to be ignored.
Just three steps into NICU he stopped, struck by the picture in front of him. The beautiful profile of Gabriella Cain as she sat next to Skye’s incubator, her fire-streaked golden hair tucked behind her ears. Unaware that anyone was looking at her, every emotion was visible. Her eyes and lips, her posture, and the way her fingers gently stroked the infant’s tiny arm exposed a mix of emotions so raw his chest tightened to see them. Sadness and anguish. Guilt. And a longing so naked he knew this was far more than a woman simply looking at the miracle of a newborn.
What had happened to Gabriella to bring this kind of pain to her life?
He watched her for long minutes, uncertain whether to approach her with comfort or quietly leave her alone. His feet seemed to make the decision for him, and he found himself right next to her, his hand reaching to slowly stroke down her soft hair then rest on her slumped shoulder with a gentle squeeze.
She didn’t react immediately. It seemed to take her a moment to emerge from whatever dark and private place she was in. Then she turned and looked up at him. Her professional mask slipped across her face, covering all that starkly haunted emotion.
“Have you come to see Skye? She’s doing really well.” Gabriella stood to give him room to move closer to the incubator, and his hand fell from her shoulder. But he didn’t want to see the baby now as much as he wanted to be there for Gabriella. “I left Cameron a short time ago,” she said. “She’s resting, but asked me to check on Skye and report back. Not that she hasn’t gotten reports about every fifteen minutes from various members of the nursing staff. But she isn’t quite convinced that’s enough.”
Her smile seemed forced and it didn’t banish the sadness from her eyes. He wanted to reach out to her. He wanted to hold her close and console her for whatever hurt she was holding inside. He wanted to tell her it would be okay, that all pain faded and nothing was forever. And as his eyes met her somber brown ones, he knew.
He wanted to know Gabriella a whole lot better, and to hell with lying low and living like a saint. He couldn’t care about gossip or stupid photos or even his mother’s embarrassment and worries. Right then, the only thing he cared about was spending time with Gabriella and finding a way to make her smile again.
“My updates from the pediatricians have been good enough that I think we can move Skye into her mama’s room,” he said. “That would keep Cameron happier and save some time and footsteps by the nursing staff, don’t you think?”
“Yes. But of course I don’t mind checking on the baby. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? I’m so happy she’s all right.”
That wistful look crept across her face again, and Rafael found himself reaching for her hand before he even realized it. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“A favor?”
“Yes. Freya told me that all the recent high-profile operations for Bright Hope patients have the cream of L.A. society lining up to hold exclusive fundraisers, so she’s asked if I can attend a charity ball. Since I’m new to Los Angeles and have no one to ask to go with me, would you please come? I’m sure you know all the great things the clinic does for people who don’t have easy access to good medical care. Including pregnant women. Wouldn’t attending the fundraiser together be a great way for both of us to help continue creating awareness for a good cause?”
The eyes staring at him were wide and stunned. Why, he wasn’t sure, since they’d dined together the night before. Surely if she’d heard about the photo and gossip, she would have said so. Still, she just stood there, her lips parted but mute.
“Is my English not as good as I think it is? I asked if you’d attend a party with me. Did I accidentally ask you to eat worms?” he teased, hoping to get a real smile and a yes from her.
“Um, no. Your English, as you well know, is better than most who speak it as a first language.” The smile she gave him was strained, but it was a start. “But I’m afraid I can’t come with you.”
“Why not?”
“It just...wouldn’t be right. Excuse me while I check back with Cameron.”
He watched her tear from the room as though that gorgeous hair of hers was actually on fire and not just shimmering with flaming hues. He wasn’t used to being turned down flat and wondered if it just might have to do with her running from the barely banked-down heat they’d shared last night.
Remembering that the whole reason he’d come to NICU had been to find some inner calm, he turned to little Skye, sweetly and innocently lying in her crib. But he wasn’t really seeing her. He was seeing Gabriella’s expression as she’d looked at the infant, and he knew without a doubt that whatever had caused that anguish was something she’d been carrying for too long.
Yes, he’d been given orders from headquarters—which meant his parents—to hide from the past, unwelcome limelight for a while. And maybe it would be a mistake to expose Gabriella and whatever secrets she carried to the heavy we
ight of that microscope along with him. But thinking about her somehow told him with absolute certainty that hiding wasn’t the answer. Not for him, and not for Gabriella. It was time for both of them to put their pasts behind them, and the first steps to making that happen would take place at a certain charity ball. A ball with plenty of supporters. Allies who’d be more than happy to convince her to attend with him.
CHAPTER SIX
“EVERYTHING LOOKS GREAT, Freya, with baby the perfect size for a healthy fetus, four months in gestation,” Gabby said, smiling. “And you look wonderful too. Your skin is positively glowing. Can I admit to being jealous?”
She’d said the words to make Freya happy, but right after she’d spoken them, the unpleasant, unexpected, and unwelcome cloud weightily slipped over her head again. Why were the memories becoming more frequent, instead of more distant? She had no idea, but dwelling on it accomplished nothing, and she did her best to shake off the gray gloom, because Freya deserved the true joy Gabby felt for her friend and employer.
“I do feel wonderful, honestly.” Freya’s smile was big enough to banish some of Gabby’s moping and make her smile too. “Though several friends have told me to enjoy it while it lasts, because after it arrives I’ll be so sleep-deprived I’ll forget the baby’s name.”
Freya’s words dashed the final remnants of gloom, and Gabby had to laugh. “Maybe not quite that much. But no matter how many times I warn new mothers that a lot of babies refuse to sleep, no one really hears it until they’re living it.”
“Well, either way, sleep or no sleep, I’m beyond excited.” Freya sat up and adjusted her exam gown. “Half-dressed isn’t the way to talk business, but since we’re both so busy I’m going to take advantage of this time alone to chat.”
“About?”
“The charity ball. Rafael Moreno told me he asked you to go with him, but you told him you didn’t want to.” Her voice became chiding. “Really, Gabby, why in the world would you say that?”
