The Doctor And The Princess

It meant that he and his dad had been a team. For as long as he could remember there had been an unshakable bond. His father had refused to be stationed anywhere without his son. Japan, Italy, UK and Germany had all played a part in his multinational upbringing. There had hardly been any discipline because he’d never been a bad kid. He’d never wanted to disappoint his dad. And the day he’d told him he wanted to do his medical degree and serve, tears had glistened in his father’s eyes.

The sudden phone call out of the blue had been like a knife through his heart. His father had never had a day’s illness in his life. The post mortem had shown an aortic aneurysm. The surgeon in Sullivan hated that. It was something that was fixable. Something that could have been detected and fixed. His father could have had another twenty years of life.

Instead, Sullivan had been left to unlock the door on the Hood River house and be overwhelmed by the familiar smells. Of wood, of fishing, of cleaning materials and of just...him.

The house that had been full of happy memories seemed to have a permanent black cloud over it now. Anytime he thought of returning his stomach curled in a familiar knot. It was hardly appropriate for a former soldier.

There was a nudge at his side. ‘Hey, you, what are you doing, sleeping on the job?’

He almost laughed out loud at the irony. She’d no idea how much the art of sleeping had escaped him in the last few years.

Gabrielle gave a smile and moved in front of him, matching his pose by leaning on the wall and folding her arms across her chest. He couldn’t help but smile.

‘Was I boring you that much?’ she teased.

He reached out and touched her bare shoulder, running his finger down the smooth soft skin on her outer arm. ‘Oh, believe me, you weren’t boring me at all.’

Her eyes twinkled. ‘So, why are you hiding back here?’ Her folded arms accentuated her cleavage and she caught his gaze and raised her eyebrows.

He let out a laugh. It was one of the things he liked best about her—a woman who was happy in her own skin. If only every woman could be like that.

‘I wasn’t hiding.’ He grinned. ‘I was contemplating a way to get you back here on your own.’

‘Hmm...’ She moved a little closer. ‘And why would you be doing that, Dr Darcy?’

He loved the way his name tripped off her tongue. The accent sent shivers to places that were already wide awake. Her hand reached up and drummed a little beat on his shoulder.

His hand moved forward, catching her around the waist and pulling her up against him, letting her know in no uncertain terms what his intentions were.

Her eyes widened and her hands fastened around his neck. ‘I’m assuming you made good on our plans.’

‘You could say that.’

‘What does that mean? Where are we staying?’

In the dim light of the corridor her brown eyes seemed even darker. Full of promise. Full of mystery. The feel of her warm curves pressing against him spoke of another promise.

He wound his fingers through her hair. ‘I might have booked us in somewhere a little bit special.’

Her eyebrows raised again. ‘You have?’

‘I have. It seems a shame to waste any more time.’

She rose up on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, ‘And is that what we’re doing, Dr Darcy, wasting time?’

Her warm breath danced against the skin behind his ear. He let his eyes close for a second again before he groaned out loud and made a grab for her hand.

‘Let’s go.’

She didn’t resist in the slightest. ‘Let me grab my jacket,’ she shouted as she let go of his hand and weaved her way through the crowd. He gave a quick nod and headed over to the bar, pulling out his wallet and settling the current bar tab. He didn’t want to wait for the flying euros as they fought over who wanted to contribute. To some the bar tab might have seemed large. To people who’d been in other countries for three months, it didn’t even come to the equivalent of a night out every weekend.