Raye Morgan - The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child - The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child

Stefan, their brother, the crown prince, could be the most demanding person on the planet, but what Tina said was true. He not only would have allowed Bridget a break, he had also encouraged it. “I want a year. A whole year. And he believes Chantaine needs more doctors. I agree. Especially after what happened to Eve—” Her voice broke, taking her by surprise. She’d thought she’d gotten her feelings under control.

Tina patted her back with sympathy. “You still feel guilty about that. I know Eve wishes you didn’t.”

Bridget took a careful breath, reining in her emotions. “She saved my life when the crowd was going to stampede me. Pushed me aside and threw herself in front of me. I’m just so glad she survived it and recovered. I don’t know what I would do if she hadn’t …” Her throat closed up again.

“Well, she survived and you did, too. That’s what’s important,” Zach said and pulled Bridget into a brotherly hug. “And now that you’re in my territory, I want you to think twice before getting on elevators.”

Tina laughed. “So protective,” she said. “It’s a wonder he doesn’t find some kind of testing device for you to use so you won’t get stuck again.”

Zach rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea. Maybe—”

“Forget it,” Bridget said, the knot in her chest easing at the love she felt from both her sister and her brother-in-law. “I’ll be fine. Think about it. How many people do you know who have gotten stuck in elevators? Especially more than once?”

“You were a good soldier,” Tina said in approval. “And you still showed up for your appearance at Keely’s charity event.”

“She probably wasn’t expecting me in my sad state with droopy hair and a dress with baby-food stain on it.”

“Oh, she said they loved you. Found you charming. Were delighted by your story about the elevator. Most important, the donations increased after your arrival.”

“Well, I guess baby-food stains are good for something, then. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to finish your goodbyes in private. Safe travels, Zach.”

“You bet,” he said.

Bridget scooped up her cup of hot tea and walked upstairs to the guest room where she was staying. Her sister had redecorated the room in soothing shades of green and blue. The ranch should have given Bridget a sense of serenity. After all, she was miles from Stefan and his to-do list for her. She was away from Chantaine where she was recognized and haunted by the paparazzi whenever she left the palace. But Bridget never seemed to be able to escape the restlessness inside her. That was why she’d decided to skip a short vacation and take care of this significant task Stefan had asked of her. After that, she could take her trip to Italy and find her peace again.

No one had ever accused Bridget of being deep. She voiced her distress and upset to her family at will, but presented the rest of the world with a cheery effervescent face. It was her job.

Some of the conditions she’d witnessed during the past year and a half, the sights and sounds of children sick in the hospital, Chantaine’s citizens struggling with poverty, cut her to the quick and it had been difficult to keep her winsome attitude intact. It irritated her how much she now had to struggle to maintain a superficial air. Life had been so much easier when she hadn’t faced others in need. Life had been easier when someone hadn’t been willing to sacrifice her life for the sake of Bridget’s safety.

Even though Eve had indeed survived and thrived since the accident, something inside Bridget had changed. And she wasn’t sure she liked it. Eve and Stefan had fallen in love and married. Eve cared for Stefan’s out-of-wedlock daughter as if she were her own. On the face of it, everything was wonderful.

Deep down, though, Bridget wondered if her life was really worth saving. What had she done that made her worthy of such an act?

She squeezed her eyes shut and swore under her breath. “Stop asking that question,” she whispered harshly to herself.

Steeling herself against the ugly swarm of emotions, Bridget set her cup of tea on the table. She would complete the task Stefan asked of her. Then maybe she would have settled the score inside her, the score she couldn’t quite explain even to herself. Afterward she would go to Italy and hopefully she would find the joy and lightness she’d lost.

After three days of being unable to meet with the head of residents at Texas Medical Center of Dallas, Bridget seethed with impatience. Dr. Gordon Walters was never available, and all her calls to his office went unanswered. Thank goodness for connections. Apparently Tina’s friend Keely knew a doctor at University Hospital and there just happened to be a meet and greet for interns, doctors and important donors at a hotel near the hospital on Tuesday night.

Bridget checked into the hotel and her security took the room next to hers. One advantage of being at Zach’s ranch meant security was superfluous. Not so in Dallas. She dressed carefully because she needed to impress and to be taken seriously. A black dress with heels. She resisted the urge to paint her lips red. The old Bridget wouldn’t have batted an eye.

Frowning into the bathroom mirror in her suite, she wondered what that meant. Well, hell, if Madonna could wear red lipstick and be taken seriously, why couldn’t she? She smoothed her fingers over her head and tucked one side of her hair behind her left ear. She’d colored her hair darker lately. It fit her mood.

She frowned again into the mirror. Maybe she would dye it blond when she moved to Italy.

She punched the code for her security on her cell phone. Raoul picked up immediately. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“I’m ready. Please stay in the background,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am. But I shall join you on the elevator.”

A couple moments later, she rode said elevator to the floor which held the meeting rooms and ballrooms. A host stood outside the ballroom which housed the cocktail party she would attend. “Name?” he asked as she approached him.

She blinked, unaccustomed to being screened. Doors opened at the mention of her title. Not in Texas, she supposed. “Bridget Devereaux and escort,” she said, because Raoul was beside her.

The man flipped through several pages and checked off her name. “Welcome,” he said. “Please go in.”

“The nerve of the man,” Raoul said as they entered the ballroom full of people. “To question a member of the royal family,” he fumed as he surveyed the room.

Bridget smiled. “Novel experience,” she said. “I’m looking for Dr. Gordon Walters. If you see him, by all means, please do tell me.”

Thirty minutes later, Bridget was ready to pull out her hair. Every time she mentioned Dr. Walters’s name, people clammed up. She couldn’t squeeze even a bit of information about the man from anyone.

Frustrated, she accepted a glass of wine and decided to take another tack.

Dr. Ryder McCall checked his watch for the hundredth time in ten minutes. How much longer did he need to stay? The latest nanny he’d hired had seemed okay when he’d left tonight, but after his previous experiences, he couldn’t be sure. He caught a glimpse of the back of a woman with dark brown wavy hair and paused. Something about her looked familiar.

The dress was classic and on a woman with a different body, it would have evoked images of that actress. What was her name? Audrey something. But this woman had curves which evoked entirely different thoughts. The sight of the woman’s round derriere reminded Ryder of the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman in a while. Too long, he thought and adjusted his tie.

Curious, he moved so that he could catch a side view of her. Oh yeah, he thought, his gaze sliding over her feminine form from her calves to her thighs to the thrust of her breasts. He could easily imagine her minus the dress. His body responded. Then he glanced upward to her face and recognition slammed into him.