скачать книгу бесплатно
The Doctor And The Princess
Scarlet Wilson
Her very own Mr. Darcy
As a rule, Gabrielle Cartier prefers the title “Dr.” to “Princess.” And when sexy surgeon Sullivan Darcy joins her humanitarian mission in the jungle, she’s desperate to explore their chemistry. Until sudden news of her brother’s abdication means Gabrielle must return home to rule!
Sullivan longs to offer Gabrielle the support she needs but the pain of loss haunts him. Yet she stirs long-dormant feelings in him, feelings that give him the courage to confront his demons...and the determination to win his princess!
Her own Mr. Darcy was pretty much looking like manna from heaven right now.
Gabrielle was lucky. She’d never had the same pressure her brother had—to find the perfect partner, settle down, marry and get ready to run a country.
Sixteen years of spotlight being the perfect princess in Mirinez had been enough. Medicine had been considered an “honorable” profession and she’d climbed on that plane to study medicine at Cambridge University breathing a huge sigh of relief. Since then she’d only returned for weddings, funerals and a few state events. Mirinez had lost interest in her. She hadn’t been in press reports for years. And that was exactly the way she wanted it to stay.
She pulled out a chair at the table and gestured for Sullivan to sit down. “Let’s focus on what needs to get done in the next two weeks.”
She shot him a smile. He stepped closer. His chest was barely inches from her nose and she caught a whiff of pure pheromones. Oh, she could pretty it up by saying it was a combination of soap, remnants of musk antiperspirant and some subtle cologne. But from the effect it was having on her senses it was 100 percent testosterone.
He didn’t seem worried about their closeness. In fact, she could almost bet that he thrived on it. The thin material covering his broad chest brushed against her arm as he sat down. “Like I said, tell me what you need, and I’m your guy.”
Dear Reader (#ub9922eef-f61d-5864-bcb6-d9d1b4180ae7),
I really enjoyed writing The Doctor and the Princess—partly due to the fact that I got to make up two countries, and partly because I got to write about my first princess doctor!
Gabrielle isn’t supposed to take over her principality you do know that all made up principalities are secretly Monaco!—but her brother has abdicated and she has no choice. She hasn’t exactly shared the fact that she’s a princess with her doctor colleagues, and the arrival of her security staff at the exact moment she’s about to get up close and personal with her own Mr Darcy causes a stir.
Sullivan Darcy is the perfect hero—right down to his flaws. He’s a doctor who has served in the army and now works for Doctors Without Borders. The attraction between him and Gabrielle is pretty much instant. But beneath the surface Sullivan isn’t as smooth as he seems. He lost his dad two years ago and hasn’t taken time to grieve. His brain keeps pushing things away—he’s a doctor, he’s a guy, he shouldn’t be feeling like this. . . In this day and age depression is recognised and known. It can affect anyone, of any sex, at any age and at any point in their life. That’s what I wanted to reflect in this story.
And it turns out that Sullivan Darcy needs Gabrielle just as much as she needs him.
I love to hear from readers. Please feel free to contact me via my website scarlet-wilson.com (http://www.scarlet-wilson.com).
Love,
Scarlet Wilson
The Doctor And The Princess
Scarlet Wilson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Books by Scarlet Wilson
Mills & Boon Medical Romance
Christmas Miracles in Maternity
A Royal Baby for Christmas
Midwives On-Call at Christmas
A Touch of Christmas Magic
The Doctor She Left Behind
The Doctor’s Baby Secret
One Kiss in Tokyo...
Mills & Boon Romance
Maids Under the Mistletoe
Christmas in the Boss’s Castle
Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) for more titles.
This book is dedicated to my Australian partners in crime—
Rachael Johns and Emily Madden.
Conferences have never been so much fun!
Can’t wait for the next one x
Praise for Scarlet Wilson
“The book is filled with high-strung emotions, engaging dialogue, breathtaking descriptions and characters you just cannot help but love. With the magic of Christmas as a bonus, you won’t be disappointed with this story!”
—Goodreads on A Touch of Christmas Magic
Contents
Cover (#u43b51778-0d33-57e1-9cc3-603379dd9b63)
Back Cover Text (#u52eaaba2-5619-517c-9f5c-d1036e462c92)
Introduction (#u8c8c7585-d3cc-5b76-b1bc-5489963b6c92)
Dear Reader (#u29e0bb0f-2740-559d-a300-459cca4a6e56)
Title Page (#u2450118f-f9c3-5130-9a85-d59bf78881c3)
Booklist (#u662c90a6-e67e-53e4-b0b7-b308a58cb9a0)
Dedication (#u11438acb-f982-5689-b568-f64ab28e3dc2)
Praise (#u5efa98f9-d6a5-5e81-9260-cfdca4842daf)
CHAPTER ONE (#uf168b065-38f4-5221-a58f-8a27b8773a0c)
CHAPTER TWO (#u1d163897-6830-555c-8451-2164cf509cfa)
CHAPTER THREE (#ud688e717-12de-58e2-aa25-30d731b5a20c)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u7bae7155-2998-560b-9658-7eb69891d22e)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ub9922eef-f61d-5864-bcb6-d9d1b4180ae7)
‘IT’S AN EMERGENCY, Sullivan, I swear.’
Sullivan let out a wry laugh as he shook his head and ran his fingers through his damp hair. ‘It’s always an emergency, Gibbs.’ He stared at the inside of the khaki tent.
Gibbs laughed too. ‘Well, this time it really is. Asfar Modarres collapsed. Some kind of intestinal problem. He was lucky we got him out in time.’
Sullivan started pacing. ‘Is he okay?’ He liked the Iranian doctor. He’d joined Doctors Without Borders around the same time as Sullivan. They’d never served together but he’d known him well enough to see his commitment and compassion for the job.
‘He should be fine. He had surgery a few hours ago.’ Gibbs sucked in a deep breath. Sullivan smiled. Here it comes.
‘Anyway, there’s two weeks left of the mission with only one doctor on site. We’re at a crucial stage. MDR TB is up to worrying levels in Nambura. We need another pair of hands.’
Sullivan shook his head as he paced. ‘I’m a surgeon, Gibbs. Not a medic. Last time I learned about TB I was in med school. I know virtually nothing about it, let alone the multi-drug-resistant strains.’
He wasn’t kidding. Ask him to wield a scalpel and he wouldn’t hesitate. As an army surgeon he’d operated on the most harrowing injuries, in the most dire of circumstances. No one had ever questioned his surgical abilities. He prided himself on it. But put him in a situation where he wasn’t the expert?
‘You’re a doctor, Sullivan—and that’s what I need. Anyway, there’s no one else I can send.’ Gibbs hesitated. ‘And there’s another issue.’
‘What?’
‘Nambura can be...difficult.’
Sullivan frowned. ‘Spit it out, Gibbs.’
‘The medic is Gabrielle Cartier. The two nurses Lucy Provan and Estelle Duschanel, the onsite pharmacist Gretchen Koch.’
Sullivan sucked in a breath and groaned. Four females on their own. Nambura tribes were very traditional. Some of the tribal leaders probably wouldn’t even talk to four Western women.
A female colleague had reported minor hostilities on a mission a few months ago. There was no way he’d leave the four of them there for the next two weeks with no back-up. His father would never have left fellow team members at risk and the same principles had been ingrained into Sullivan all his life.
‘Okay, you got me. When can you arrange transport?’
Gibbs started talking quickly. ‘I’ll send you our latest information and protocols on MDR TB. You can read them en route. The helicopter will pick you up in fifty minutes.’
The line went dead as Sullivan stared at the phone. Fifty minutes. Gibbs had clearly already sent the transport before he’d made the call. It was almost as if he’d known Sullivan didn’t have anything to go home to.
His top-gun pilot father had died while Sullivan had been on his final tour of duty in Helmand Province. He’d flown home, watched his father buried with full military honours, completed his tour, then had signed up with Doctors Without Borders.
Three years later he’d only managed to go home for nineteen sporadic days. He still hadn’t emptied his father’s closets or packed up any of his things.
He flung the phone onto his bunk as he pulled his bag from the top of the locker.
Just as well he travelled light.
* * *
The music met his ears as the chopper lifted back up into the black night sky, flattening the trees all around him.
He tilted his head as he tried to recognise the tune and the direction from which it was coming. There was only one path from the landing spot leading through the trees.
He wound his way along it, the music getting louder with every step, until eventually he emerged into a clearing filled with familiar khaki tents identical to the ones he’d left a few hundred miles away and three hours ago.
He glanced around. The set-up rarely varied no matter where they were in the world. A mess tent. Bathrooms and showers. An operation centre and the staff quarters.
A flap was pinned back on the tent that seemed to be the epicentre of the noise. Sullivan’s curiosity was piqued.
She had her back to him. Which was just as well as his eyes were immediately drawn to her tanned bare legs. She was wearing a rose pink T-shirt tied in a knot at her hip, revealing the curves of her waist. Her dark hair was in a ponytail that bounced along with her movements. But it was the khaki shorts that had caught his eye. Judging from the frayed edging, they’d obviously once been a pair of trousers and he’d like to shake the hand of the person who had cut them.
On her feet was a pair of heavy black army boots and a pair of rumpled socks. And those legs just kept going and going.
She was bouncing on her toes now. She wasn’t just dancing to the beat of Justin Timberlake. Oh, no. She was singing at the top of her voice. And this wasn’t just a casual bop about the place. This was a whole dance routine.
He dropped his bag and folded his arms in amusement as she slid from one side to the other, mimicking the movements the world had seen a million times in the dance video. She had rhythm. She had style.
And she had his full attention.