How to Catch a Prince. Leanne Banks

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How to Catch a Prince - Leanne Banks


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Sophie wandered out of the shop and stopped at the crosswalk to walk the few blocks to her apartment. She waited until the light signaled that she could cross and stepped off of the curb.

      Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a cute bright yellow scooter whizzing around the corner just before it sent her flying through the air.

      Later, hours, was it days? Sophie awakened to a blurry sight in front of her.

      “Sophie,” Max said. “Sophie, it’s me, Max. How are you?”

      She opened her mouth, but her throat felt so dry. She made a croaking sound.

      “Thank God,” he muttered. She felt his hand on hers.

      “Max,” she whispered, but her head throbbed. “What happened?”

      “A scooter ran into you,” he said.

      She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. A vague visual of a scooter rounding a corner crossed her mind. “Oh, yeah.”

      “You remember?”

      She nodded. “I was walking the crosswalk and the scooter came out of nowhere. Am I okay?”

      He squeezed her hand. “Yeah, you’re fine. Just rest.”

      Sophie awakened later. She wasn’t sure when, but the nurse met her gaze. “How are you, sweetie?” she said. “You’ve had a rough go of it.”

      “Are you from Australia?” Sophie asked, taking in the accent of the nurse.

      The woman nodded and smiled. “No. New Zealand. Both would be extremely offended.”

      Sophie smiled, but her body felt as if it ached all over. “Is anything broken?”

      The nurse shook her head. “Your body is fine. We’re still checking your brain.”

      “Oh, no,” Sophia said. “Am I brain-damaged?”

      The nurse shook her head. “A little confused,” she said and tucked a blanket around Sophie. “Time will tell how confused.”

      Sophie frowned, feeling frightened. What did that mean? What if she couldn’t perform her job? Worrying over the terrible possibilities, she felt a spurt of relief as Max walked into her room.

      “Hi,” she said. “So, am I brain-damaged?”

      “No more than usual,” he said then slid his hand over her forehead. “According to all the tests, you should be okay.”

      “How’s the scooter driver?” she asked.

      He smiled. “Unfortunately, better than you are.”

      Sophie scowled at him. “That sucks.”

      “Can’t disagree, but he is too sorry for words. Been standing in the waiting room since you first arrived.”

      “Hmm,” she said.

      “I’m just glad you’re awake and intelligible,” he said, leaning toward her.

      “Have I been unintelligible?” she asked, far more concerned about that than being awake.

      She watched Max take a deep swallow. He shook his head. “Never.”

      Sophie sank back on her pillow. “You lie like a dog.”

      Moments after Sophie fell asleep again, Max stepped outside her room and headed for the nurses’ station. His stomach hadn’t stopped knotting since he’d received the call about Sophie from the emergency room. “Are you sure Miss Taylor is okay? She keeps falling asleep.”

      The nurse pulled up Sophie’s information on her computer screen. “All her tests are normal. Her vitals are excellent. It’s a miracle she wasn’t hurt worse. Her body is demanding more rest to recover from the trauma. She’ll improve rapidly over the next few days. I wouldn’t be surprised if the doctor allowed her to leave this afternoon.”

      “This afternoon?” he said, shocked. “But she only arrived night before last.”

      “There’s no swelling in her brain. She’ll just need someone to be with her for the first night.”

      “We can take care of that,” a cultured feminine voice said from behind him.

      Max glanced at the woman and immediately recognized her. Princess Bridget with a male assistant or bodyguard behind her.

      “Your highness,” the nurse said, giving a slight curtsey.

      Bridget dipped her head. “Thank you, but not necessary. I would like a thorough update on Miss Sophie Taylor’s condition. Good to see you, Maxwell, but I much prefer to visit in a different situation. Did I hear correctly that they’re going to release her?”

      “That’s what the nurse said, but the doctor will make the final decision.”

      “You don’t seem too keen about her going home,” Bridget said.

      “She’s still sleeping a lot and I can’t see her taking care of herself,” he said.

      “I have the perfect solution. We’ll bring her to the palace. I would invite her to my ranch, but the boys are such hellions she’d never find any peace. Pippa’s husband, Nic, is taking his last trip to the States. She had to force Nic to go. The only way he would agree was if she stayed at the palace. So, Pippa can provide company and there will be staff to wait on Sophie hand and foot.”

      Her generosity took him off guard. At the same time, he felt responsible for Sophie. He almost felt as if he should be the one take care of her since she really didn’t know anyone else in Chantaine. “I don’t know. I have to think about what would be best for Sophie.”

      She blinked at him. “She couldn’t possibly get better care somewhere other than the palace.” Bridget frowned. “Do you wish for your assistant to stay somewhere else?”

      He paused a half beat, thinking he didn’t want to get overly involved with the Devereauxes. He didn’t want Sophie to get involved with them either. He’d thought all that would be necessary for Sophie would be to go to the tea and that would be the end of it. “I want her to be comfortable.”

      “We enjoyed your Sophie—”

      Impatience shot through him. “She’s not my Sophie. She’s my assistant.”

      Bridget gave an equally impatient nod. “Very well. We enjoyed her very much during our tea and all of us would like to spend more time with her. And we insist she spend her recovery at the palace.”

      Max felt a bit more sympathy for Stefan. Bridget was pushy. He wondered if the rest of the Devereaux women were.

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