Louisa Heaton - The Prince's Cinderella Doc

‘It’s easier for me. My life is scheduled to the minute, so I know when I can fit things in to get everything done.’

She was curious. ‘Is that a perk or a drawback?’ she asked. She wasn’t sure she’d want to be so regimentally scheduled each day. What about free time? What about spontaneity?

‘It depends on the day.’ He laughed again, wiping his face with a towel.

‘And today?’

He shrugged. ‘Well, I have this, and then I get to spend some time with my daughter.’

‘Princess Alexandra? She’s beautiful. How old is she now?’

‘Five.’

‘You must be very proud of her.’

‘I am. But I don’t get to spoil her as often as I would like.’

Of course not. She didn’t live with him. The Princess lived with her mother, at her family’s private estate.

‘That must be hard for you?’

He stared into her eyes. ‘You have no idea.’

Oh, but I do , she thought. I know how hard it is being away from those you love. I know only too well.

She blinked rapidly and turned away, forcing her mind back to the assessment. ‘Next test.’

‘I’m all yours.’ He did a mock bow.

Krystiana smiled and then indicated that he should move to the next machine.

* * *

They were just about finished with their testing when the doors to the gym opened and in walked Sergio, looking grave. It was the most solemn Matteo had ever seen him.

He finished towelling himself down and raised an eyebrow. ‘Sergio? What is it?’

‘I have some unfortunate news for Dr Szenac, sir.’

She looked up from her notes and frowned. Was it about Dr Bonetti’s wife?

‘I’m afraid there’s been an accident at your villa. A drunk driver tried to take the corner near your abode too fast and ploughed into your home. I’m afraid your living area and bedroom have been almost destroyed, and the property is not safe for you to reside in just yet.’

Matteo was shocked and looked to Dr Szenac. ‘I’m so sorry!’

Her face was almost white. ‘Is the driver all right?’

He was impressed at how her concern was immediately for the driver.

‘I believe he got away quite lightly, all things considered. He’s being treated by the medics now.’

‘Okay. Good. That’s good.’ She turned away, her thoughts in a distant place. ‘Oh, my God. What about Bruno?’

‘Bruno?’

‘My dog. He’s a rescue.’

‘I believe your neighbour was out on a walk with him at the time,’ Sergio replied.

‘Oh, thank goodness!’

She sank down into a chair, her legs obviously trembling, and put her head in her hands. Matteo felt for her. Was her home ruined?

‘You must stay here with us. Until everything is fixed.’

She looked up, tears in her eyes. ‘I couldn’t possibly do that.’

‘Nonsense! It’s done. Sergio, could you arrange for Dr Szenac’s clothes and anything she needs to be brought to her quarters here in the palace? Including her dog, who I’m sure will bring her great comfort. We’re going to have a guest for a while.’

‘I don’t know what to say...’ she said, beginning to cry.

He smiled. ‘Say yes.’

She looked at him for a long moment and he saw gratitude. ‘Then, yes. Thank you. Yes.’

He nodded. ‘Sergio? Make it happen.’

* * *

‘I’m so lucky I was here when it happened, she said later. Otherwise I might have been injured!’

‘Well, you were here, and that’s all that matters.’

‘But—’

‘No buts. There’s no point in wondering about what might have happened. You just need to worry about what is happening.’ He smiled. ‘I learned that in therapy. Look at me—spreading the knowledge.’

She smiled as she stroked Bruno’s fur. They’d had a joyous reunion when Sergio had returned with her dog, her clothes, her computer and some rather startling photographs of the damage to her villa.

‘That’s going to take weeks to repair,’ she’d said.

‘Let me take care of that,’ Matteo had offered.

‘I couldn’t possibly let you do that! It will cost a fortune!’

‘Are you insured?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then don’t worry about it. Let me do something good for you. You were kind enough to step in at the last minute and help me out when I needed a doctor—let me step in and help you out when you need a...’

‘A builder?’ She’d laughed.

He’d smiled back. ‘A knight in shining armour. Didn’t you see my suit of armour downstairs? It’s very polished.’

So of course she’d thanked him profusely, feeling so terribly grateful for all that he was doing to help her out.

‘I appreciate that. I really do.’

‘Nonsense. It’s what friends do.’

And she’d smiled. Were they friends? ‘Thank you.’

* * *

Matteo had invited her to dine with him that evening.

‘You can bring Bruno. If he’s lucky we might be able to feed him titbits under the table.’

‘He’ll never want to leave this place if you do that.’

And now they sat on his sun terrace, awaiting their meal, staring out across the gardens below and watching the sun slowly set.

‘By the way, I don’t know if you’ve heard but Dr Bonetti’s wife has pulled through. She’s in a stable condition and expected to go home soon. He phoned from the hospital. Let my secretary know.’

‘That’s excellent news! Wow. So good to have such great news after earlier. And the driver who hit my home? Do we know about him?’

‘Already home. And already charged by the police for drink driving. He’s to attend court in a few days’ time.’

‘If it was an accident I’m sure he’s very sorry.’

Matteo sipped his water. ‘Unfortunately, from what I’ve discovered, the man is a known drunk. He’s already had his licence taken from him and the car wasn’t even his. It was his son’s and he’d “borrowed” it.’

‘Oh.’

‘We’ll get him into a programme.’

‘We?’ She raised an eyebrow.

‘My pack of royal enforcers,’ he said with a straight face, knowing there was no such pack at all.

‘Enforcers?’

He laughed. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t really have enforcers. I was just... Look, he needs help. Someone will go and visit him and make sure he enrols into a programme that will get him the help he needs. Before he kills someone next time.’

‘Maybe I could go and see him myself?’

‘Is that wise? You’re emotionally involved.’

‘Which is why he might listen to me. Meeting the actual victim of his crime might make more of an impact.’

‘Was hitting your wall not enough?’ He cocked his head to one side. ‘How do you know so much about crime and victimology?’

She looked down and away from him then, and he realised there was a story there. Something she wasn’t willing to share.

‘I’m sorry—you don’t have to answer that.’

She laughed. ‘Don’t therapists suggest that talking is good for the soul?’

He nodded. ‘They do. But only when you’re ready. Are you ready?’

‘I don’t know.’

He sipped his drink. ‘You’ll know when it’s the right time. And, more importantly, if it’s the right person to talk to. You don’t really know me, so I quite understand.’

She stared back at him. Consideringly. Her eyes were cool. ‘I think you’d understand more than most.’

He considered this. Intrigued. ‘Oh?’

She paused. Looked uncertain. And then he saw it in her face. The determination to push forward and just say it.

‘I was six years old. And I was taken.’

‘Taken?’ His blood almost froze, despite the warmth of the sun.

‘My father buried me in a hole in the ground.’