The Doctor And The Princess

Gabrielle licked her dry lips. She was the leader of this expedition. The decision when to pack up and go back to camp had always been hers. Normally, she would be offended but this time she didn’t feel slighted at all. She just wanted a chance to get back to camp and take stock.

‘We’re ready,’ said Gretchen quickly. ‘I’ll drive.’

She was decisive. Gabrielle gave a nod and walked over to where her backpack and laptop were. The rest of the staff spoke quietly to each other as she climbed into the back seat of their custom jeep. She wasn’t surprised when Sullivan climbed in next to her.

She waited until the engine had been started and the barren countryside started to rush past. ‘What did you say to them? What had I done to upset him? What did I say to his wife?’ she asked quietly. She wasn’t looking at him. She wasn’t sure that she could. She fixed her eyes on the horizon. Thoughts of the language barrier were spinning around in her head. She hated it that she hadn’t understood a single word out there. It had made her feel like a complete and utter failure.

Sullivan reached over and put his hand on her leg. Some people might think it was too forward an action but somehow she knew it was only an act of reassurance. ‘He was unhappy because his wife had told him you’d given her a different medicine for the wound on her leg. She’d been using something that his mother made—some kind of paste. You said she had an infection and needed antibiotics.’

‘That was it?’ She was frustrated beyond belief. ‘That woman had a serious infection in her lower leg. If I hadn’t treated it, there’s a chance she could lose her leg.’ She replayed events over in her head. The consultation with the woman. The altercation between Sullivan and the tribal leader.

He pressed his lips together. ‘I said exactly what I should say. I told them their behaviour was shameful. We were there to help them and everyone in their tribe. I told them if the women around me didn’t feel safe, we wouldn’t be back.’

This time she did turn her head and narrow her gaze. He looked her straight in the eye.

‘Is that your poker face?’

He frowned. ‘What?’

‘Is that your poker face? I might not speak Narumbi, but I don’t think that’s exactly what you said,’ she replied carefully.

His steady gaze hadn’t wavered. He was good at this. She’d have to remember that.

He licked his lips, his first tiny sign of a release of tension.

‘Then it’s just as well you aren’t fluent in Narumbi,’ he said promptly.

He lowered his voice. ‘I won’t allow you—any of you—to be treated like that.’ He sighed. ‘I understand that we’re in a different country. A different culture means different people. I respect their views. But if they’re hostile towards you, or threaten you...’ He squeezed her thigh and looked her straight in the eye. Last time she’d been this close they’d been alone in the tent when he’d arrived. The light had been much dimmer. This time she could see the intensity of the deep green of his eyes dotted with tiny flecks of gold. ‘...I’d fight to the death,’ he finished.

She gulped. He meant it. She didn’t doubt for a second that he absolutely meant it. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered as she shifted in her seat. How come he could look at her unflinchingly one second and tell her only a version of the truth, then the next the sincerity in his eyes could take her breath away?

She looked down at her hands. ‘I hate not being in control,’ she said quietly. ‘I hate the fact that things can slip so fast, so quickly.’ She shook her head. ‘If I could have spoken the language I could have explained.’ She tugged at her shirt. ‘Or maybe he didn’t like my clothes.’

‘Stop it.’ His voice was firm. ‘Gabrielle, you and the rest of the women in the team are appropriately dressed. His mother is the head woman in their tribe. He thinks you insulted her expertise.’ He put his hand on his chest. ‘It’s a different culture. Women in their tribe aren’t really treated with much respect. Maybe that bothers him? Maybe he’s more modern than he seems—so the thought that someone questions the respect his mother holds made him angry.’

He leaned forward and touched her cheek. ‘You made a clinical decision. You’re a good doctor, Gabrielle. If you hadn’t given his wife antibiotics it’s likely she would lose her leg. And I’ve told him that. In no uncertain terms. Give yourself a break. Their behaviour was unreasonable.’

He settled back into his seat and folded his arms. ‘And I told them that too.’

For the first time since it had happened she gave a small smile. ‘And a whole lot more too.’

She saw him suck in a deep breath. His gaze hadn’t faltered from hers, but she could tell he was contemplating his words.

‘I’ve grown a little fond of you. I’d hate anything to happen on my watch.’

She felt a prickle go down her spine. Was this good or bad?

Part of her wanted to smile. It was almost an acknowledgement of the mutual attraction between them. But part of it sounded a bit over-protective. Sullivan couldn’t know, but she’d deliberately left that part of her life behind. Being a doctor and working away from Mirinez gave her the freedom she’d never experienced as a child. It wasn’t like Mirinez was some kind of superpower. It was a small country but prosperous—mainly due to its tax haven status. But her great-grandmother had been a film star, which had put Mirinez firmly on the media map.

She glanced at the others in the jeep. Estelle, Lucy and Gretchen were chatting amongst themselves in the front. They weren’t listening to Sullivan and Gabrielle’s conversation at all. The jeep had moved quickly. Even though the road was bumpy they were far away from the site of the camp today. What’s more, she felt safe around Sullivan. Now he was sitting right next to her she finally felt as if she could relax. She bit her lip. ‘Well, I might have grown fond of you too, but I’m not your responsibility, Sullivan.’

He only smiled. That was the annoying part of him. That darned confidence. Over the last three years she’d found it common amongst the medics who’d served in the army. Maybe she was even a little envious of it. She had felt vulnerable today—and she hated that.

‘I’ll take that under advisement,’ said Sullivan smartly. He leaned forward and whispered, ‘We’ve only got another week to go. Then it’s back to base. How long have you got before you’re back on another mission?’

There was an intense twinkle in his eye. He’d already admitted he was fond of her. Headquarters were back in Paris. All staff that arrived back had a few days debrief, then, unless people were rushing back to see their families, there was usually a few days where they would let their hair down before everyone dispersed to their next mission.

She licked her lips. ‘I might have around ten days. I’m not sure where I’m going next. Gibbs hasn’t told me yet. What about you?’

Mad thoughts were already flashing through her head. Ten days in Paris with Sullivan Darcy? Now, that could be fun.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘I haven’t committed yet.’

‘You haven’t?’ She was surprised.

He shook his head. ‘I have a few things I should really take care of back home.’

She straightened up. ‘What kind of things?’ He’d never mentioned a family back home. And he’d been flirting with her. Just like she’d been flirting back. He didn’t wear a ring. But if he suddenly mentioned a Mrs Darcy he would see a whole new side of Gabrielle Cartier. She just wasn’t that kind of girl.

He let out a long slow breath and looked away. ‘I really should take care of my father’s house. He died a few years ago and I’ve been too busy working to get around to clearing it out and sorting through his things.’

She hoped her sigh of relief wasn’t as noticeable as it felt. ‘Who takes care of it now?’

He grimaced. ‘No one really. I’ve only been back for a few odd days at a time. I have someone take care of the garden, and I’ve made sure that the services continue to be paid. But at the moment it’s really just collecting dust.’

The tone of his voice had changed. It didn’t have the strength of earlier, or the cheekiness that she’d heard on other occasions. There was something wistful about his tone. Even a little regretful. It was a side of Sullivan Darcy she hadn’t seen before.

This time she made the move. She reached over and put her hand over his. ‘Maybe you needed to let it collect dust for a while. You have to wait until you’re ready to do things. That time might be now.’

For a second she thought he might come back with a usual cheeky quip, but something flashed across his eyes and he stared at her hand covering his.

He gave a slow nod. ‘You could be right.’ Then one eyebrow rose. ‘But I don’t want you to make a habit of it. I get the impression if you think you’re right all the time you could be unbearable.’

She couldn’t help but grin. This was how he wanted to play it. It seemed Dr Darcy could reveal the tiniest element of himself before his shutters came down again.

She could appreciate that. Particularly in an environment like this when things could flare up at any second and you had to be ready for any kind of emergency.

He leaned towards her again, this time so close that his stubble brushed against her cheek. ‘Trouble is,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘what can we possibly do to get through the next week?’

A red-hot flush flooded through her body. She tried not to look at the muscled pecs visibly outlined by his thin T-shirt, or the biceps clearly defined by his folded arms. Sullivan Darcy was one sexy guy. But two could play that game.

She moved, stretching her back out then straightening her shirt, allowing the fabric to tighten over her breasts.

Then she gave him a playful smile. ‘Who knows, Dr Darcy? I guess we’ll just need to think of something.’

CHAPTER THREE (#ub9922eef-f61d-5864-bcb6-d9d1b4180ae7)

FOR THE LAST few days they’d danced around each other. It was ridiculous. And Sullivan knew it. They were both grown adults and could do whatever they wanted to.