Reunited With Her Surgeon Prince

‘Why did you call him Felix?’ he asked tangentially.

‘It means lucky. Blessed. When I first saw him, I swore that’s what he’d be.’

‘If he has you for a mum, that’s a given.’

But she shook her head. ‘Marc, don’t. I don’t need compliments. What was between us was over nine years ago. I haven’t heard from you since our divorce. I assumed you’d have a wife and kids by now and be ruling the health system of Falkenstein. I’ve searched for you on the Internet from time to time,’ she confessed. ‘You seem to have been doing really well. I’m sorry about your dad, by the way. Heart attack?’

She’d been keeping tabs on him while he’d blocked her out completely. That made him feel even worse.

What did he know about her?

Involuntarily, he checked her ring finger. There was nothing there.

He thought of the ring that had once lain there—his great-grandmother’s, a ring of beauty and antiquity. Ellie had returned it after the divorce but he’d sent it straight back.

‘I want you to keep it, Ellie. You’re a woman of honour and I’m sure my great-grandmother would be proud if you kept wearing it. Move it to another finger and wear it with pride.’

Why would she still be wearing it?

No reason at all.

What had she asked? His father. A heart attack. ‘Yes. It was sudden. He was still working full-time.’ He hesitated. ‘Your mum?’

‘She died five years ago. The first transplant lasted three years, the second one four. It was a good four years, though. She loved Felix and helped me care for him.’

‘And you managed to get through university.’

‘Somehow. We eked out your money. I had a room in Sydney where we all stayed. Mum looked after Felix as best she could. When she couldn’t, I’d bring them both back here. I made a deal with the town—if they helped me with Felix and Mum, I’d come back and be the local doctor.’

‘But you wanted to specialise.’

‘Family practice is a specialty.’

‘But it’s not what you wanted.’

‘So I’ve learned we can’t always have what we want.’ She looked directly at him. ‘What do you want, Marc?’

And how much would he have given to be able to say he didn’t want anything? That this was a spur-of-the-moment visit, popping in to visit his ex-wife who he hoped could still be a friend.

Ha.

‘I needed to see you,’ he tried.

She looked at him directly and shrugged. ‘No. We’re over that long since. Didn’t we figure need was another name for lust?’

‘What was between us wasn’t just lust.’

‘No. It was a juvenile love affair. But I’m asking again, Marc. Why are you here? I thought it must be that you learned about me keeping Felix, but by your reaction it seems it’s not. So, you happened to be visiting Australia and decided to see how much your ex-wife has aged? What?’

There was no easy way to say this. Just say it, Marc.

‘I came because the entire Falkenstein royal family died in a plane crash. Three days ago I was fourth in line for the throne. Now the crown is mine.’

Her face creased in shock. ‘That’s appalling. Why wasn’t it on the news? Or maybe it was. I’ve been so busy.’ And then her face softened. ‘They’re your family. Marc, I’m so sorry.’

‘I don’t need sympathy,’ he said roughly. ‘There’s never been any love lost between us. I’ve always kept as far from the palace as possible. But now...’

‘Now?’ She took a moment to take in the full implications of what he’d said. ‘You’re...you’re the new King?’

‘Yes.’

Her face changed again, becoming wary. ‘And that means...what? Why are you here?’

There was no way to soften what needed to be said.

‘I travelled all this way, fast, to ask you to keep Felix’s adoption records quiet,’ he told her. ‘There’s already intense media interest in an obscure doctor who’s suddenly their monarch. Enough people know of our short marriage that it can’t be hidden. I hoped, however, that the birth would go unnoticed, or at least you could hide the adoption details.’

‘Why?’

‘Because adoption is accepted as legal abdication,’ he said heavily. ‘According to our constitution, if Felix had been formally adopted at birth he’d have no rights to succession but the media interest could still be upsetting. Now...’

Marc paused, overwhelmed by what he had to tell her.

Ellie rose and opened the sideboard. She poured two whiskies. Large ones.

‘I don’t drink this except in emergencies,’ she told him. ‘I suspect I need it now. Maybe we both do. So tell me.’

He took the glass and drained it, and then he looked at Ellie.

He could still see the girl he’d loved behind those tired eyes. He could still see the laughter, the fun... But he could also see the care and the responsibility.