From Doctor To Princess?. Susanne Hampton

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From Doctor To Princess? - Susanne Hampton Mills & Boon Medical

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Hugo reached for an auction programme, taking a pen from his pocket and scribbling something on it, then beckoning to one of the waiters. The note was carried to Yvette, who read it and smiled over at them.

      Whatever he’d written, it seemed that their hostess was now happy to allow them to leave with as little fuss as possible. Nell bit back the thought that they should never have been here in the first place. Perhaps this would serve as a lesson to Hugo, and he’d respect his own limitations a little better from now on.

      He swayed a little as he stood, wincing in pain. Nell hung on to his right arm, supporting him as well as she could and ignoring the glances and smiles from the people who crossed their path on the way back into the house. If they wanted to jump to the conclusion that there was something between her and Hugo, then let them. She imagined that she was just the latest in a very long list, which had the virtue of rendering her unremarkable.

      Ted appeared out of nowhere, and Nell breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Would you be able to bring the car round, please, Ted?’

      ‘Yes, Doctor.’ Ted flashed her a conspiratorial smile and hurried away.

      Hugo almost stumbled at the bottom of the steps at the front of the house, and when she put her arm around him to steady him, Nell found herself almost in an embrace.

      ‘I’m sorry.’ He made to pull away, but Nell held him tight.

      ‘That’s all right. We’ll just get home, shall we?’ She could see his car now, moving towards them, Ted at the wheel.

      He nodded, and she felt his arm curl around her shoulders. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

       CHAPTER FIVE

      HUGO HADN’T QUITE been feeling fine, but he had at least been in charge of himself. And then suddenly he’d hit a wall. The one that he told his own patients about and reassured them wouldn’t be there for ever.

      If Nell hadn’t been there, he wasn’t sure how he would have managed. But she had, and he’d felt her next to him, holding on tight as he’d walked what had seemed like a marathon to get to the car. Somehow, her scent had strengthened him and stopped him from just sitting down right where he was and not getting back up again.

      Ted had helped him back up to his apartment and Nell had fussed around, taking off his shoes and jacket and loosening the collar of his shirt, then making him lie down on the bed. He’d protested and she’d ignored him, and then suddenly a wave of fatigue had pulled him into sleep.

      When he woke, the room was in semi-darkness. He could make Nell out, sitting by the window, reading in the last rays of the sun.

      ‘Do you want me to say it?’ When he spoke, it felt as if his mouth was full of cotton wool.

      She looked up from her book. ‘You can if it makes you feel any better.’

      It did. Hugo pulled the bedspread down from his chest, sitting up slowly. ‘I overdid it today. I felt okay and I was sure I could manage it but... I couldn’t.’

      She smiled and suddenly overdoing things and proving Nell right didn’t seem such a bad thing after all.

      ‘You know, of course, that this happens. After the shock of being taken ill and then going through a surgical procedure.’

      ‘Yes. Primitive instincts. We fight to survive, and then, when the danger’s passed...’

      She nodded quietly. ‘And now you have to come to terms with it all.’

      ‘What if I don’t want to?’ The words escaped Hugo’s lips before he had a chance to stop them.

      Nell shrugged. ‘That’s just too bad. You can command it to go away all you like, but it’s not going to listen.’

      Maybe. But if he couldn’t rule his own feelings, then he could return the favour and not listen to them. Not let anyone know his weakness.

      He swung his legs slowly from the bed. They seemed strong again. All he’d needed had been to sleep for a while.

      ‘You’re getting up?’ Nell was looking around the room as if she was trying to figure something out.

      ‘I feel much better now. What are you looking for?’

      ‘Your wardrobe.’

      ‘Through there.’ Hugo nodded towards the door to one side of the bed, and Nell got to her feet. It seemed she’d decided to lay out a change of clothes for him. The idea that she might stay and help him into them didn’t seem quite as deflating as it had when the nurses at the hospital had done it.

      ‘Oh...’ She’d opened the door and put her head inside the dressing room. ‘Sure you have enough to wear here?’

      ‘I go out a lot.’ Hugo chuckled. ‘Casual is on the left, at the end.’

      She disappeared inside the dressing room, and Hugo heard her opening drawers and closing them again. Then Nell reappeared, with a dark polo shirt and a pair of pale chinos over her arm. ‘Will this do?’

      ‘That’s great, thanks.’

      ‘Bathroom?’

      ‘Through there.’ Hugo indicated another door, staying put. He wondered how far Nell intended to go with this.

      She disappeared into the bathroom and he heard the sound of water running. Then she popped her head around the doorway. ‘I’ll take a look at your chest and then leave you to it.’

      Hugo heaved himself from the bed and walked into the bathroom. She’d moved the shower chair in front of the basin, and motioned him to sit down.

      ‘How do you really feel?’ She bent down, unbuttoning his shirt.

      He wanted to say that he felt fine. Hugo meant to say that he felt fine, but in her quiet, fragrant presence he couldn’t.

      ‘As if I’ve been hit by a truck.’

      Hugo closed his eyes, feeling her slip his shirt from his shoulders and carefully threading it off his left arm. Coming to terms with the piece of cutting-edge technology that was now implanted in his chest was the easy part. It was the thought that he was somehow flawed that he just couldn’t shake.

      More flawed. He hadn’t been perfect to start with.

      He felt her carefully remove the dressing over the surgical incision. It was hard not to shiver at the touch of Nell’s cool fingers.

      ‘It’s looking good. A little bruising, still, but there’s no infection and it’s starting to heal. It’s a nice job.’

      Nice job. She’d said that before and he’d wanted to turn his back on her and tell her that he didn’t need that doctor-to-doctor reassurance. If he’d still had a gaping wound on his chest, a scar that would never heal, it might reflect the way he felt a little better.

      ‘Take a look.’

      Hugo had purposely

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