Island Doctor to Royal Bride?

She smiled as she wandered through the suite, shaking her head at the expanse of it. Someone had run a bath for her already, with lavender scents drifting towards her and purple petals floating on the bathwater. The main windows in the suite looked out over the stunning gardens and even from here she could see the light dusting of snow across them.

She took a breath and sat down on the window ledge. She was here. In Corinez. What on earth was she thinking about?

There were some chocolates on the table in front of her, along with a bottle of wine chilling in a cooler and two glasses. Who had done this? Was it Philippe? Did he mean to come along and join her, or was this standard for any guest?

She just wasn’t sure. She moved from the window ledge and sat down in one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs that looked out over the gardens. It was more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. Every little girl’s fantasy.

But, for all its beauty and grandeur, somewhere out there—just like at home in Temur Sapora—could be a young girl or woman, contemplating giving up her baby.

A baby like her.

With the light dusting of snow at the very back of the gardens she could understand that where a baby was left could be the difference between life and death.

She had a reason to be here. She had a function. Philippe knew she was committed to the programme—even though he didn’t really know her reasons. Those were hers to keep.

She glanced over at the sumptuous bed and breathed in the lavender scent coming from the bathroom, and while for tonight she might enjoy the lifestyle, she wouldn’t forget the people she was here to help.

How could she? Arissa was a doctor. And she was an abandoned baby. And no matter the love she’d experienced in her life—that was what she would always be.

CHAPTER NINE

PHILIPPE KNOCKED ON the door hesitantly, wondering if Arissa had managed to shake off the jet lag.

She opened the door, bright and breezy, wearing jeans and a red shirt. ‘Ready to start work?’ she asked.

He laughed. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d be ready.’

She held out her hands. ‘I’m ready to see breakfast Corinez-style, and I definitely want to see where you intend to place the safe haven cots.’

He gave a firm nod as his stomach gave a little flip. Even not seeing her last night had been hard. She hadn’t answered when he’d knocked on the door, and when he’d dared to peek inside she’d been sleeping soundly beneath the canopy of the large bed.

It had been so tempting to take a step inside—but Philippe would never do a thing like that. He was just happy that his guest was comfortable.

The morning sun gleamed behind her from the large windows, almost creating a halo above her dark curls. He could see every curve in her jeans and fitted shirt. She really had no idea just how gorgeous she was. He loved the fact she was ready to start. He loved her enthusiasm. But more than anything he loved the fact she’d agreed to come to his country with him. Part of him couldn’t help but hope she might love it even a little as much as he did. He held out his elbow towards her, inviting her to slip her arm in his. ‘Your wish is my command.’

And he meant it.

* * *

The journey down into the city was short. He took one of the cars from the palace gardens and waved away their chauffeur and security staff.

He could have gone to one of the many exclusive restaurants, but instead he took her to a well-established commercial coffee shop with chains around the world. Arissa clearly felt at home there as she could rhyme off her order by heart. It seemed that the menu didn’t change the world over. The barista only raised one eyebrow when she clearly recognised Philippe, but the merest shake of his head was enough for her to realise not to say anything.

They settled at a table in the corner with their coffee and croissants as Philippe explained some of their surroundings. ‘We’re in the east side of the city. This has always been the poorer side of the city, but in the last few years things have taken a downward turn. Unemployment has risen and because Corinez doesn’t have an adequate social security system in place, or free healthcare, the few cases of abandoned babies has increased in the last year.’

She met his gaze thoughtfully. ‘You could have your work cut out for you.’

‘That’s why you’re here.’

‘Have you considered someplace that would be central enough for a safe haven cot?’

He nodded. ‘I think we’re going to go along the same route as yourself and use the fire stations. Our hospital would have been our first option, but, like your clinic, the road to the hospital is too well used, too open. I’m not sure that someone would feel confident to leave their baby at the hospital without fear of being discovered. The whole ethos behind the safe haven is that a woman can leave her child safely and without exposure to herself—no matter how much we’d really like to know who she is, and if she’s safe too. Our fire station is in a central area, but not quite as busy—not quite as exposed—and there are always staff based in the station, so the baby wouldn’t be left for any long period of time. It makes more sense to arrange for the safe haven to be placed there.’

She nodded. ‘Do you have notes about where any of the other abandoned babies have been left in Corinez?’

He nodded. ‘I’ve spoken to my police colleagues. There have been four in the last year. One left near the hospital, but not quite at the main entrance. Another left in a shop doorway in the east end of the city. A third near the fire station, and a fourth in the car park at the back of a local supermarket in the dead of night.’

His heart squeezed; he was worried she might ask the next question he just didn’t want to answer. But her brain headed in another direction.

Arissa gulped. ‘Have you ever managed to find any of the mothers?’

‘Only one. She was admitted to hospital after collapsing in the street. She had a severe infection caused by the birth.’

He could see the next question in her eyes. ‘She didn’t want to be reunited with her baby. She had some other serious health conditions. The pregnancy had caused enormous strain on her body, and because she had no healthcare...’

He held up his hands and she finished the sentence for him. ‘She just couldn’t manage.’

He nodded. It was almost as if she could see the pressure he felt hanging above him.

Her fingers brushed against his and he couldn’t help it, his fingers twitched and started to intertwine with hers. It seemed natural. It seemed honest. ‘What are you going to do about the healthcare system in Corinez?’ she asked.

The million-dollar question—or the more than million-euro question as it would turn out to be. He sighed deeply and gave a slow shake of his head. ‘It needs to be overhauled. It doesn’t meet the needs of our people.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Unless, of course, you’re a billionaire. We have dozens of private clinics and hospitals. Corinez is like a plastic surgeon’s dream—because we have the climate and the geography, lots of people come here to have surgery and recuperate. But because so many investors like to make money from the private hospitals and clinics, it means our national hospital and community clinics are short-changed, in staffing levels and finance.’

‘You can’t staff your hospitals?’

He leaned his head on one hand. ‘Nurses in the private hospitals get paid at a much higher rate than the state hospital. It’s hard to keep staff.’

‘And you don’t have the budget to pay them more?’

He nodded. ‘Exactly.’

She leaned back in her chair and looked around. ‘You have a lifetime of work here, Philippe.’

He nodded. ‘I know I do. I just need to start having courageous conversations with some of our parliament members and some of our investors. I know where I need to start. It has to be maternity care. If I can even persuade them to make that part of the healthcare system f

ree, then we can try to ensure the best start for every child.’

He waited a few moments, conscious that they were now starting to get a few glances from people from the surrounding tables who seemed to be focusing on their intertwined hands.

He stood up quickly. Arissa looked surprised. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and have a look at the fire station, and then I have somewhere I want to take you.’

She looked a little surprised by his sudden move and after a few seconds took his outstretched hand. ‘Okay, then, Philippe, like I said before, show me Corinez.’

She loved it. She loved this place already. It was clear that people here respected their Prince—even if they did seem a little obsessed by him.

Everywhere they went there were nudges and side glances. She tried to stay focused. To look at the geography and the people around them. Poverty wasn’t evident at the first glance, but dig a little beneath the surface—go to the right places—and it was there to see.

They visited a few community centres and spoke to some of the clientele. She met the chief of the fire and rescue service and was bowled over by his enthusiasm for the project. He immediately agreed to call his equivalent in Temur Sapora.

She liked the fact they were more or less travelling incognito. Philippe handled the busy streets easily and by the time dusk started to fall she couldn’t hide the yawn.

‘Tired?’ he asked as they drove back towards the palace.

She gave a nod. ‘I feel as if I need forty winks. But if I do that, I’ll probably be up half the night.’