Island Doctor to Royal Bride?

He gave a slow nod of his head. ‘When I’m in Corinez, I’m Prince Philippe, through and through. It’s my role. I’ve been brought up to fulfil that purpose. But I had a few years’ leeway—time to come and train as a doctor and gain experience that would help me fulfil my ultimate duty when it was time to go home.’

‘And is it time to go home now?’

He closed his eyes for a second. ‘It is.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Come with me.’

The more he thought about things, the more it all made sense in his head. ‘Come with me and help me set up a safe haven scheme in Corinez. The last patient I dealt with back home was a baby who’d been abandoned. We don’t have a national healthcare system. People have to pay for all medical services, and finances have changed in Corinez. The recession has hit hard. We have more and more incidents of babies being abandoned. I hope to campaign for free maternal healthcare in Corinez—at least to start with. But I also need to put in place a scheme like you have. I need to ensure these babies can be safe, can be looked after.’ He leaned forward and grasped her hands. ‘And you can help me do that.’

She pulled herself back. ‘But...’ Nothing else followed. She seemed stuck for words.

‘Think of it as a mix between a holiday and a humanitarian effort. I can show you a little of Corinez and you can advise me on the best way to set up the scheme while you get your visa sorted out and look for another job that you really want.’

She was still stunned. He kept going, conscious he was babbling, but he just wanted her to agree. He didn’t want to leave here without her. She looked up at him. ‘Look at the trouble I’ve just had with London. Won’t I need a visa to work in Corinez—no matter what role I’m doing?’

He waved his hand. ‘That’s one of the few perks of being a prince. I can sort that for you.’ His gaze connected with hers. ‘You’ve already told me that you’ve got the time here covered. There’s no need for you to stay. You could look for some kind of temporary cover or sick-leave type of job—but do you really want that? Why not try something different? Come with me, help me in Corinez. Help me set up the same scheme you have here.’

He hadn’t moved his hands. They were still clasped over hers.

‘You’re a prince,’ she said again, looking him square in the eye.

He nodded again and gave her a resigned smile. ‘Yes, I’m a prince.’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Where, exactly, is Corinez again?’

‘It’s near France, Italy and Monaco.’

She blinked. ‘What?’

He shook his head. ‘Forget it, it’s not that important. It’s an island. It has mountains that people ski on, it has a casino—no, scratch that, it has many casinos—it has a huge port. We laugh and call it the cruise ship depot because so many stop there.’

Arissa let out a long slow breath. ‘You’re a prince.’

He smiled. ‘Yeah, you said that, a few times. I am a prince. It’s not gonna change. But what can change is what you can help me do. Come with me, Arissa. Come with me to Corinez. Be my champion.’

‘Your champion?’

He smiled. ‘It’s what I always say to my patients when they have to take a deep breath for something.’

It was as if something flicked in her brain. She smiled then spoke carefully. ‘This project. I won’t be in the spotlight. I won’t have to deal with press. I won’t have to be...anything?’

She shook her head. His heart gave a lurch. She was considering coming. She was actually considering coming.

He didn’t know exactly what was behind this, but it wasn’t the first time she’d told him she didn’t want to be in the spotlight. And right now he would agree to anything.

‘Arissa, if you agree to come we can focus entirely on the project. You won’t need to worry about anything else.’

He could see her holding her breath, and he held his too, waiting for her answer.

‘No publicity,’ she reiterated.

‘No publicity,’ he agreed.

She licked her lips and waited a few moments before she replied. ‘Okay, then, Prince Philippe, show me your country.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

SHE COULDN’T HELP but stare out of the window of the plane, still not really believing that she was actually doing this.

Beneath her, Corinez was revealed through smoky clouds. The high mountains, busy harbour and rich city stretched out under her gaze. Philippe was preoccupied, talking to the man who’d appeared and been introduced as Philippe’s personal secretary.

All of this was becoming scarily real.

She felt the undercarriage on the plane go down and they glided to a halt on a long runway. There was no Customs. No queues.

Instead they exited the plane straight into a white stretch limousine.

As soon as they stepped onto the tarmac she sensed a change in Philippe. He wasn’t just the nonchalant doctor who offered to help out when required.

Now, he was Prince Philippe, and even though he tried to be self-effacing it was apparent the people around him wouldn’t allow him to be anything other than their Prince.

He was at ease amongst them. He disappeared for a few moments and the secretary bent to murmur in her ear. ‘He has to have a quick chat with our local press, don’t worry. He’ll only be a few minutes. His Highness is good at giving them exactly what they want, in the minimum time possible.’

He had a strange kind of grin on his face as he said those words and she wasn’t quite sure what he meant. The thought of dealing with the press sent uneasy prickles down her spine. But five minutes later Philippe appeared again and they were whisked off in the white limousine.

‘I am supposed to call you Your Highness now?’ she asked as she sank back into the soft leather upholstery.

He shook his head. ‘You call me Philippe—or whatever name you think suits me at the time.’

She gave a half-frown. ‘I’m not sure how that will go down with the rest of the people around you.’

He waved his hand. ‘Don’t worry about them. You’re my guest—they know that. If there’s anything you need, or want, you just have to say the word.’

She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that either. Arissa had spent her life doing things for herself and sorting herself out. Asking someone else for something wasn’t really in her mindset and she wasn’t sure it could be.

‘When do we start work?’ she asked, moving on to a subject she felt more comfortable with.

‘As soon as we’re settled.’ The limousine started climbing a road winding up one of the nearby mountains. He gave her a knowing smile. ‘The jet lag usually hits tomorrow, so we’ll start the day after that.’

‘I’d like to start as soon as we can.’

He kept smiling. ‘What can I say?’ He n

odded his head at her. ‘Your wish is my command.’

She watched as the hilly green countryside rapidly started to turn white. ‘You have snow at this time of year?’

He leaned over next to her, letting her catch a whiff of his aftershave. ‘We have snow all year round if you’re high enough up the mountain. It’s one of the few places where you can ski all year round. Down in the city can be in the middle of a heatwave, but up in the mountains the snow will still be lying.’

She gave a shiver. ‘I’m not entirely sure I’ve brought the right wardrobe. Summer and winter in the same day?’

His eyes were gleaming. ‘Welcome to Corinez.’

She settled back in the seat as the limousine turned through a set of ornate gates and up to a large grey and white stone four-storey palace, complete with turrets.

‘You actually live in a palace?’ she asked as her eyes tried to take in the view.

He wiggled his hand. ‘There’s some debate about that. We call it a palace, but apparently it’s the same design as some Edwardian castle back in England. Worldwide travel wasn’t common then. I think the designer might have thought that no one would realise he’d used the same plans twice.’

Arissa pressed her face closer to the car window. ‘It looks beautiful.’

He gave a nod. ‘It is. But the gardens are actually my favourite part. There’s a fountain, a maze and extensive oriental gardens.’

The car slowly stopped and the chauffeur got out to open the door. Arissa walked up the impressive front steps, her heart tripping a little in her chest. Yip. She was right back in that childhood fantasy. She’d never imagined that she’d actually meet a prince for real—it still hadn’t sunk in.

The inside of the castle was just as impressive as the outside. Arissa was led up one side of a curved dual staircase and along an impressive corridor to a suite.

Even though the style was Georgian, parts of the castle were decidedly updated. Arissa’s room was decorated in shades of green and gold. The bed was at least six feet across, with sumptuous bedding. The carpet was so thick her feet sank into it and she wiggled her toes in pleasure. The bathroom was bigger than her bedroom back home, as was her dressing room. She gave a little laugh as the palace aide placed her single suitcase in the middle of the dressing room. It looked so lonely there—her clothing wouldn’t take up even a tenth of the space in this room.