The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child. Leanne Banks
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If you see him, by all means, please do tell me.”
Thirty minutes later, Bridget was ready to pull out her hair. Every time she mentioned Dr. Walters’s name, people clammed up. She couldn’t squeeze even a bit of information about the man from anyone.
Frustrated, she accepted a glass of wine and decided to take another tack.
Dr. Ryder McCall checked his watch for the hundredth time in ten minutes. How much longer did he need to stay? The latest nanny he’d hired had seemed okay when he’d left tonight, but after his previous experiences, he couldn’t be sure. He caught a glimpse of the back of a woman with dark brown wavy hair and paused. Something about her looked familiar.
The dress was classic and on a woman with a different body, it would have evoked images of that actress. What was her name? Audrey something. But this woman had curves which evoked entirely different thoughts. The sight of the woman’s round derriere reminded Ryder of the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman in a while. Too long, he thought and adjusted his tie.
Curious, he moved so that he could catch a side view of her. Oh yeah, he thought, his gaze sliding over her feminine form from her calves to her thighs to the thrust of her breasts. He could easily imagine her minus the dress. His body responded. Then he glanced upward to her face and recognition slammed into him.
The woman speaking so animatedly to one of his top residents, Timothy Bing, was the same woman he’d met in the elevator the other night. Princess whatever. Bridget, he recalled. And of course, his top resident was utterly enthralled. Why wouldn’t he be? The poor resident was sleep-deprived, food-deprived and sex-deprived.
Ryder was suffering from the same deprivation albeit for different reasons. He wondered why she was here tonight. Might as well cure his curiosity, he thought, if he couldn’t cure his other deprivations. He walked toward the two of them.
Timothy only had eyes for Her Highness. Ryder cleared his throat. Both Timothy and the woman turned to look at him.
Timothy stiffened as if he were a marine and he’d just glimpsed a superior. Ryder almost wondered if he would salute. “Dr. McCall,” he said.
Bridget looked at him curiously. “Doctor?” she echoed. “I didn’t know you were a doctor.”
“We didn’t have much time to discuss our occupations. Your Highness,” he added.
Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Timothy’s eyes bulge in surprise. “Highness,” he said. “Are you a queen or something? I thought you said you were a representative of Chantaine.”
Bridget shot Ryder a glare, then smiled sweetly at Timothy. “I am a representative of Chantaine. A royal representative, and I hope you’ll consider the proposal I gave you about serving in Chantaine for a couple of years in exchange for a scholarship and all your living expenses.”
Ryder stared at the woman in horrified silence. She was trying to seduce away one of his prized residents. Timothy was brilliant. His next step should be to one of the top neurological hospitals in the States.
Ryder laughed. “Not in a million years,” he said.
Bridget furrowed her brow. “Why not? It’s a generous offer. Dr. Bing would benefit, as would Chantaine.”
“Because Dr. Bing is not going to make a gigantic misstep in his career by taking off for an island retreat when he could be one of the top neurological surgeons in America.”
Bridget’s furrow turned to a frown. “I find it insulting that you consider a temporary move to Chantaine a misstep. Our citizens suffer from neurological illnesses, too. Is it not the goal of a doctor to heal? Why should there be a prejudice against us just because we reside in a beautiful place? Does that mean we shouldn’t have treatment?”
“I wasn’t suggesting that your country doesn’t deserve medical care. It’s my job, however, to advise Dr. Bing to make the best decisions in advancing his career and knowledge.”
Princess Bridget crossed her arms over her chest and looked down her nose at him. “I thought that was Dr. Gordon Walters’s job, although the man is nowhere to be found.”
Timothy made a choking sound. “Excuse me,” he said. “I need to …” He walked quickly away without finishing his sentence.
“Well, now you’ve done it,” she said. “I was having a perfectly lovely conversation with Dr. Bing and you ruined it.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. The whole tenor of our conversation changed when you appeared. Dr. Bing was actually open to considering my offer to come to Chantaine.”
“Dr. Bing wanted to get into your pants,” Ryder said and immediately regretted his blunt statement.
Bridget shot him a shocked glance. “You’re the most insulting man I’ve ever met.”
“You clearly haven’t met many residents,” he said wearily. “I apologize if I offended you, but Timothy Bing doesn’t belong in Chantley or wherever you said you’re from.”
“Chantaine,” she said between gritted teeth. “I will accept your apology if you can direct me to Dr. Gordon Walters. He is the man I must meet.”
Ryder sighed. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you. Dr. Gordon Walters is not here tonight. He hasn’t been working in the position as chief resident adviser for some time. It’s not likely he’ll return.”
She cocked her head to one side and frowned further. “Then who will take his place?”
“No one will take his place. Dr. Walters is rightfully loved and respected. I am serving as his temporary successor.”
Realization crossed her face. “How wonderful,” she said, when she clearly found the news anything but.
Bloody hell, Bridget thought, clenching her fingers together. Now she’d put herself in a mess. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Yes, she and Dr. McCall had engaged in a spirited discussion, but surely he would come around once he heard more about Chantaine and the program she was offering.
“Well, I’m glad I’ve finally found the person who is currently in charge. Our first meeting in the elevator showed that you and I are both responsible, reasonable adults. I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an understanding on this matter,” she said, imbuing her words with every bit of positive energy she could muster.
Dr. McCall shot her a skeptical glance. “I’ll agree with your first point, but I can’t promise anything on the second. It’s good to see you again, Your Highness.” His gaze gave her a quick sweep from head to toe and back again. “Nice dress. Good evening,” he said and turned to leave.
It took Bridget an extra second to recover from the understated compliment that inexplicably flustered before she went after him. “Wait, please,” she said.
Dr. McCall stopped and turned, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “Yes?”
“I really do need to discuss Chantaine’s medical needs with you. I’m hoping we can come to some sort of agreement.”
“I already told you I couldn’t recommend that Timothy Bing spend two years in your country,” he said.
“But you have other students,” she said. “I’m sure you have students interested in many different areas of medical care. Coming to Chantaine would enable the physicians to get hands-on experience. Plus there’s the matter of the financial assistance we would offer.”
“I’m sorry, Your High—”
“Oh, please,” she said, unable to contain her impatience. “Call me Bridget. We’ve sung together in an elevator, for bloody sake.”
His lips twitched slightly. “True. Bridget, I’m not sure I can help you. Again, my number-one priority is guiding my students to make the best career decisions.”