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It was almost like a magnifying glass on every aspect of his life.
He’d been born a Prince. He’d embraced it for most of his life. He knew what was expected of him. He knew what his place was. The job ahead would be hard—maybe even impossible. He was starting small with maternity services, but eventually he wanted to change his whole country’s healthcare system.
Every hair on his body prickled upwards. But he didn’t want to do it alone.
The realisation was startling. It shouldn’t be. It had gradually crept over him for the last few weeks, ever since he’d met a dedicated doctor with eyes so deep they pulled him in.
He lifted his head to meet his mother’s gaze. He wasn’t even afraid to say the words out loud.
‘My priority is Arissa.’
His mother nodded. ‘How would you feel if she wasn’t here?’
The words felt like a sword spearing his heart. It clarified so much for him in an instant. ‘Like part of me was missing,’ he said softly. He met his mother’s gaze. ‘I don’t want to do any of this without her.’
His mother stayed silent for a few seconds, then she stood slowly. ‘I suspected you might say that.’
She walked over and put her hand on his shoulder. ‘You’re old enough to make your own choices, Philippe, and, whatever you choose to do, I will always be your mother, and I will always love you.’ She bent close to his ear. ‘I don’t ever want my children to feel as if part of them is missing,’ she whispered in an emotion-racked voice.
She walked back out of his door, closing it softly behind her.
He sagged his head down onto his hands. What had he done? What was he about to do?
Part of his brain was screaming out in protest—reminding him how much he loved his country and being part of it. But the other part was forming plans about what it really meant to love someone completely—and to put them above anything else.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE KID WAS SICK. But in a way it was lucky. She was still at a point where treatment could be very effective—if they were lucky, treatment might even provide a cure.
The family had been more than a little surprised when she’d turned up on their doorstep along with some palace security. After some embarrassment and apologies, Arissa had explained who she was. She wasn’t just the Prince’s latest girlfriend. She was a doctor—a specialist on kids’ blood disorders—and if they’d let her, she’d see their child free of charge and assess what was needed.
With Jacques’ help and a quick call to the hospital she’d managed to set up privileges and been able to take the family to a quiet consultation room where she’d had access to equipment and tests. A few hours later, once the X-rays and blood work had been back, she’d been able to sit them down and explain exactly the treatment that their daughter required.
Both of their faces had been pale. She didn’t blame them. She’d spent much of her doctor life having these kinds of difficult conversations. But, with the right treatment, this child’s chance could be good.
She was still angry about everything that had happened. But she wasn’t going to show that to them. She’d taken the time to listen to the circumstances and made the decision that she’d do what she could to help.
It was so easy to judge. So easy to be angry. Occasionally, it was right to be angry. But right now, all she could focus on was the face of the little sick kid in front of her.
It had got her thinking all over again.
By the time she got back to the palace she felt like a giant bag of sand that someone had snipped a little hole in, and the life was just draining out of her.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out. It took a few seconds for her to scan the email she’d just received. It seemed that even though the research hadn’t been published yet, news of their findings had got out. She was the contact name for the clinic so the email had come to her. There had been a huge product licence offer made for their ointment. She blinked, her fingers typing furiously. There was only one thing in her mind. None of the doctors involved in this were in it for the money. This kind of money could secure permanent staff for the clinic in Temur Sapora. She forwarded it on to all involved, along with her suggestion, and held her breath.
But she didn’t need to. The replies came in fast and furious. Yes after yes.
At last, something was going right.
She collapsed onto her bed. One more day. That was all she had to last. One more day to finish her duties. Then, she’d need to try and find another position. Maybe she could cover sick leave or maternity leave somewhere? This time she would sort out any visa issues herself.
She rested back on the pillows, trying to focus on her next moves. But, try as she might, her head wouldn’t let her concentrate. As fatigue crept over her, her mind circled with the pictures of her and Philippe and the way they had captured how they’d been looking at each other.
It preyed on her senses, making her skin tremble and her stomach churn.
Somehow, the thought of being in Philippe’s company tomorrow was making her nervous.
But the thought of leaving this place for good and never seeing him again? That made her head swim even more and her heart ache in a way she’d never thought possible.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE DAY STARTED AWKWARDLY.
Arissa was ready, dressed in dark trousers and suit jacket, her suitcase sitting in the corner of the room.
Philippe looked as if he hadn’t slept. He was dressed impeccably as usual, but his handsome face was marred with dark circles and tiny lines around his eyes.
He seemed nervous. ‘Arissa.’ The smile he gave her was strained. ‘Are you ready? I’ve talked with the captain at the fire and rescue station and the workmen have just arrived.’
She gave a nod of her head. Jacques was standing behind Philippe and gave her a reassuring smile. She’d asked to keep her actions yesterday private and somehow she knew he hadn’t betrayed her.
‘Let’s go, then.’ The words came out a little funny. Almost as if she were really saying, Because I can’t wait to get out of here. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about everything.
Philippe shot her a pained glance and answered in his polite tones. ‘After you.’
She stared out of the window of the blacked-out limousine as they travelled through the city. A casino she hadn’t visited. A large white memorial that she’d no idea what it was for. The bustling port filled with cruise ships, and the bus terminal with buses heading up to the ski resort. So many parts of Corinez she hadn’t got to see.
Her throat was dry. She couldn’t stomach tea this morning. Her hands jittered in her lap, no matter how much she tried to still them.
Philippe cleared his throat. ‘The press secretary got a response about the invasion of privacy into your patient.’
She turned to face him.
He spoke slowly. ‘It seems that as soon as the story broke on US news and the photos were released, everyone started talking. News stations asked anyone that knew you to phone in.’
Arissa cringed.
Philippe looked carefully at her. ‘Amal called the TV station himself. He was excited. He saw his doctor on the TV and wanted to tell them how brilliant she was. He took his mother’s phone and just dialled the number on the screen. His mother didn’t even know that he’d done it until later.’ Philippe gave a gentle shake of his head. ‘The TV station asked him to send a clip and he filmed himself. That’s why the clip was wobbly.’
Arissa’s mouth was open. She couldn’t help it. Of course. Kids were so savvy these days on all social media, and Amal was the original cheeky kid. It was exactly the kind of thing he would do. She sagged back in the seat and swallowed. The press hadn’t invaded the privacy of one of her patients. It might still not be entirely above board, but Amal had contacted them.
Philippe con
tinued. ‘His mother, of course, contacted the station later. But she didn’t withdraw permission for them to use the clip.’ He paused for a bit. ‘We do think there were a few other dubious enquiries regarding some of your patients. We made a complaint to the national press agency and that’s been acknowledged and will be followed up.’
Arissa took a deep breath as the car slid to a halt.
She tried to collect her thoughts. Had she overreacted yesterday? Now she knew Amal had made contact himself. But it sounded as if there could still be a few underlying issues. She knew at heart she wouldn’t be able to let those go. Ensuring the privacy of her patients would always be at the forefront in her mind. Philippe climbed out of the car and turned, holding his hand out towards her.
