Island Doctor to Royal Bride?
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 nodded 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.’