Island Doctor to Royal Bride?

‘Hardly.’ She pressed her lips together for a second. She had to say something. She wasn’t sure when else she would get the opportunity. ‘I didn’t know anything about you, Philippe, because I didn’t generally read about princes when I was a kid.’

The air was still around them. He looked down for a second. It was clear he knew where this would be heading. ‘Arissa...’ he started, letting his voice trail off.

She stepped forward and gave a little shake of her head, pressing her hand to his chest. She wasn’t afraid to touch him. She wasn’t afraid of familiarity. But she had to let him know how she felt.

‘You worked with me for nearly two weeks, Philippe. You never said a word. I felt foolish when you finally told me you were a prince.’

He sighed and nodded his head, waiting a few seconds before lifting his gaze to meet hers. ‘I didn’t want to ruin anything.’

‘With the truth?’

It was obvious he was frustrated. ‘I wasn’t there to be a prince. I wasn’t even there to be a doctor. I went to Temur Sapora for a rest—but you know how that turned out.’ He held out his hands. ‘I had two weeks of unplanned nothingness. Two weeks to get my head around what had happened here, and the role I was coming back to. Changes have been needed for years, and, although I’ve always known that, I’ve never really known where to start. The last few months have made me realise it has to be maternity services. It goes hand in hand with the safe haven work.’ He stopped and reached up and ran his hands through her curls. ‘And then, there was you.’

He gave her a smile that warmed her all the way to her toes.

‘Me?’ All of a sudden it was difficult to swallow.

‘You. Arissa Cotter. Mrs No Nonsense. Mrs Plans. The woman with a fantastic career path at her feet, but still having a commitment to, and love for the place you came from.’

The edges of her lips turned upwards. ‘Isn’t that normal?’

He moved his hand to her shoulder. ‘Maybe. It’s normal for you. And it’s normal for me. But for lots of other people...’ He shook his head. ‘Lots of other people just seem to want to leave their past and home behind them. Like ancient history.’

She took a few seconds to answer. ‘But I love my home.’

‘And that’s part of what I love about you.’

She froze. She knew it was just a figure of speech but she couldn’t help but instantly be a little scared. Love was a big word to say around someone.

Philippe didn’t seem to notice her tensing. He just kept talking, his hand drifting back to tangle in her hair. ‘But it wasn’t just that. You seemed to like spending time with me, just being me. Not a prince. Not someone who could help change in their country. And I liked that.’ He stopped for a second, his gaze locking with hers. ‘Because the truth is, for me, that’s different. The last few months working in Corinez? People treat me like I’m some kind of special event—not a real doctor. But working with you in Temur Sapora? I loved the anonymity. I loved the fact I was just Philippe. Nothing else. Because here, in Corinez, I never get to just be Philippe. They want Prince Philippe. They don’t want me.’ He put his hand to his chest again. ‘All my life that’s who I’ve been, that’s who I’ll always be. I’ve never had the chance to just be Philippe. Coming to Temur Sapora was the first time in thirty years I’ve had that opportunity.’

He let out a wry laugh. ‘And maybe I’ve got this all wrong, but I think you quite liked Philippe.’

She stood very still for a minute, letting her breath steam in the air between them. She was trying hard to understand what kind of life he’d led. The pressure put on him. Things she’d never once in a lifetime thought about—never had reason to.

She reached up and touched his face. ‘You’re different here. I noticed it from the second you stepped off the plane. Here, you’re Prince Philippe. I thought I already knew you, but I guess I only know part of you.’

He shook his head. ‘That’s not true. The person at the clinic, the person who tried to cook you dinner, the person who swam in the ocean with you. That’s me. That’s who I am. You know the real Philippe.’