The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child: The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child

“The sitter took care of that before I got here. That Travis is a pistol. Didn’t want to go to sleep, so I gave him my best Garth Brooks.”

Ryder gave a tired smile. “Must have worked. I’ll give a quick check and be right back.”

“Cold one’s waiting,” Marshall said.

Ryder trusted Marshall to a degree, but he didn’t think leaving the kids with his buddy from high school on a regular basis was a good idea. He wouldn’t put it past Marshall to slip the boys a sip from his beer if he was desperate enough. When pressured, Marshall could get a little too creative, like the time he hot-wired the car of one of the school’s top wrestlers because his own car had died.

Marshall owned a chain of auto-mechanic shops across Texas. He wore his hair in a ponytail and tattoos were stamped over his arms and back. He hadn’t attended college, but he’d made a success of himself. Most people couldn’t understand their friendship because they appeared to be total opposites, but a mutual appreciation for baseball, some shared holiday dinners which had always included hotdogs and hamburgers and the fact that they both tried to show up during the hard times had made them like family.

With his brother Cory gone, Marshall was the closest thing to family Ryder had. His gut twisted at the thought, but he shoved the feeling aside and gently opened the door to the nursery. He’d learned to walk with stealthlike quiet during the last month. The possibility of waking the boys made him break into a cold sweat.

Moving toward the closest crib, he glanced inside and even in the dark, he knew that this was Tyler, and he was in Travis’s bed. Travis was in Tyler’s bed. He wasn’t going to complain. They were both lying on their backs in la-la land. Which was exactly where he would like to be.

Instead, he walked on quiet footsteps out of the room and gently closed the door behind him. Returning to the den, he saw Marshall still sprawled on his sofa with the same beer in his hand.

“They’re asleep,” Ryder said and sank into a leather chair next to the sofa. He raked his hand through his hair.

“I coulda told you that,” Marshall said. “I made sure they would sleep well tonight.”

He shot a quick glance at Marshall. “You didn’t give them any booze, did you?”

Marshall looked offended. “Booze to babies? What kind of nut job do you think I am?”

“Well, you aren’t around kids very much,” Ryder said.

“Maybe not now, but I was an in-demand babysitter in junior high school. Some things you don’t forget. And just in case you’re worried, this is my second beer. I wouldn’t go on a bender when I was taking care of your kids.”

Chagrined, Ryder rubbed his chin. “You got me. Sorry, bud. Being in charge of two kids is making me a little crazy.”

“A little?” Marshall said and shook his head. “You’ve turned into the nut job. You know what your problem is, you’re no fun anymore. Those babies sense it and it gets them all uptight, too. It’s like a virus. You spread it to the babysitters and it makes them crazy, so they quit. You need to get laid and go to a ball game.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Ryder said. “I’ll take your advice in a decade or so.”

“Lord help us if you wait that long,” Marshall said. “Maybe I could set you up with somebody. Take the edge off.”

Ryder slid him a sideways glance. “I’ll pass. You and I may root for the Texas Rangers, but we don’t share the same taste in women.”

“Your loss,” Marshall said, sitting upright. “I know some women who could wear you out and make you sleep like a baby.”

“I’ve learned babies don’t always sleep that well.”

“It’s your aura,” Marshall said. “That’s what Jenny, my ex, would say. Your aura is poisoning your environment.”

“A dependable nanny is what I need,” Ryder said.

“Well, if you can get a sitter, I’ve got tickets to the Rangers game on Thursday. Take care, buddy,” he said, rising from the couch and patting Ryder on the shoulder. “Keep the faith, bud. And move me up on that backup list. I’m more dependable than your Aunt Joanie. I bet she’s always busy.”

Ryder smiled despite himself. “You got it. Thanks. If I can find a sitter, I’ll go to that game with you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it. ‘Night,” Marshall said and loped out of the house.

Ryder sank farther into his chair, kicked off his shoes and propped his shoes onto the coffee table. He considered reaching for that beer, but drinking anything would require too much energy. Hearing the roar of the crowd and the occasional crack of the bat hitting the ball from the game on his flat-screen TV with surround system, he closed his eyes.

Making sure the twins were safe, taking care of his patients and covering for Dr. Walters were the most important things in his life, but he knew he needed help, especially with the twins. He’d never dreamed how difficult it would be to find dependable caretakers for the boys. His head began to pound. He could feel his blood pressure rising. Pinching the bridge of his nose, for one moment, he deliberately chose not to think about the next nanny he would need to hire and the deteriorating mental health of his mentor, Dr. Walters.

Ryder thought back to his high school days when he’d been catcher and Marshall had pitched. They’d won the state championship senior year. That weekend had been full of celebration. He remembered a cheerleader who had paid attention to him for the first time. She’d given him a night full of memories. Blonde, curvy and wiggly, she’d kept him busy. He hadn’t lasted long the first time, but he’d done better the second and the third.

His lips tilted upward at the memory. He remembered the thrill of winning. There had never been a happier moment in his life. He sighed, and the visual of a different woman filled his mind. She had dark shoulder-length hair with a wicked red mouth and cool blue eyes. She wore a black dress that handled her curves the same way a man would. She would be a seductive combination of soft and firm with full breasts and inviting hips. She would kiss him into insanity and make him want more. He would slide his hands into her feminine wetness and make her gasp, then make her gasp again when he thrust inside her….

Ryder blinked. He was brick-hard and his heart was racing as if he were having sex. He swore out loud.

He couldn’t believe himself. Maybe Marshall was right. Maybe he just really needed to get laid. His only problem was that the woman in his daydream had been Problem Princess Bridget Devereaux. Yep, Marshall was right. Ryder was a nut job.

Bridget read Dr. Ryder McCall’s dossier for the hundredth time in three days. He hadn’t had the easiest upbringing in the world. His father had died when he was eight years old. His mother had died two years ago.

Ryder had played baseball in high school and won an academic scholarship. He’d graduated first in his college class, then first in his medical-school class.

His older brother, Cory, had played football and earned a college scholarship. Unfortunately, he was injured, so he dropped out, took a job as a departmentstore manager and married his high-school sweetheart. They’d waited to have children. Six months after the birth of twin boys, they’d attended an anniversary dinner but never made it home. A tractor trailer jackknifed in front of them on the freeway. They both died before they arrived at the emergency room.

An unbelievable tragedy. Even though Bridget had lost both her parents within years of each other, she had never been close to them. Ryder had clearly been close to his brother. Now, a man who had previously been unswervingly focused on his studies and career, was alone with those precious motherless babies.

Her heart broke every time she read his story. This was one of those times she wished she had a magic wand that would solve all of Ryder’s problems and heal his pain. But she didn’t. As much as she wished it were true, Bridget was all too certain of her humanity.

In the midst of all of this, she still had a job to do. She needed to bring doctors to Chantaine, and Dr. McCall’s assistant hedged every time Bridget attempted to make an appointment. She would give the assistant two more tries, then Bridget would face Ryder in his own territory. If he thought an assistant would keep her at bay, he had no concept of her will. Surprise, surprise, especially to herself. She may have portrayed an airy, charming personality, but underneath it all, she was growing a backbone.

Chapter Two

Ryder left the hospital and picked up the boys after the latest sitter unexpectedly informed him that her child had a medical appointment she could not skip. He had an important meeting with several members of the hospital board this afternoon which he could not skip. He hated to press his admin assistant into baby service again, but it couldn’t be helped.

After wrestling the boys in and out of car seats and the twin stroller, he felt like he’d run a 10K race as he pushed the stroller into his office suite. Instantly noting that his admin assistant was absent from her desk, he felt his stomach twist with dread. She’d left her desk tidy and organized as usual. She’d also left a note on his desk. He snatched it up and read it.

Miss Bridget Devereaux called 3x this a.m. I can’t put her off forever. Gone to my anniversary celebration as discussed. Thank you for letting me off.

—Maryann

Ryder swore out loud then remembered the boys were in the room with him. “Don’t ever say that word,” he told them. “Bad word.”

He recalled Maryann asking for the afternoon off—it had to have been a week or so ago. He’d been busy when she asked and hadn’t given it a second thought. Now, he had to juggle his boys and an important meeting. He shook his head. Women managed children and careers all the time. Why was it so difficult for him? He was a healthy, intelligent man. He’d run marathons, worked more than twenty-four hours straight, brought a man back to life in the E.R., but taking care of these boys made him feel like a train wreck.

Ryder sat down at his desk and flipped through his contact list on his computer for someone he could call to watch the boys during his meeting. He sent a few emails and made three calls. All he got were voice mails.

“Well, hello, Phantom Man,” a feminine voice called from the doorway.

Ryder swallowed an oath. Just what he needed right now. He didn’t even need to look to know it was Princess Persistent. But he did and couldn’t deny that she was a sight for sore eyes. Wearing another black dress, although this one looked a slight bit more like business wear, she smiled at him with that wicked red mouth that reminded him of what he hadn’t had in a long time.

Dismissing the thought, he lifted his hand. “I have no time to talk. Important meeting in less than—” He glanced at the clock. “Thirty minutes. Got to find someone one to watch the boys.”

“Not having any luck?” she asked.