the room.”
“Hmmm.” Faye’s eyebrows arched. “That sure doesn’t sound like him at all.” Something in her gaze twinkled. “But the mere peculiarity of it does sound interesting, though.”
After a moment, Catherine commented, “He doesn’t smile much, does he?” Then she lapsed back into memories of her short time with him. Finally, she couldn’t hold back her question any longer. “Is he married?”
Faye stirred a splash of cream into her tea. “Dr. Jacobs? No.”
The cup warmed Catherine’s fingers as she cradled it between both hands. “He’s quite good-looking.”
“Um-hmm,” Faye agreed. She tipped her head a fraction. “You interested?”
“Let’s put it this way, I like handsome men just as much as any other woman does.” Catherine straightened the angle of the spoon sitting in her saucer. “I don’t mind admitting that there’s something about Dr. Jacobs that intrigues me….”
Ever since she’d turned twenty-one, she’d had a slew of men chosen for her—very wealthy, very appropriate, very boring and forgettable men. But there was nothing about Riley Jacobs that was forgettable. In fact, he had been on her mind all afternoon. What was it about him that attracted her?
Almost as if she’d heard the silent question that whispered through Catherine’s head, Faye teasingly suggested, “Could it be the challenge?”
A mysterious and awesome sensation suddenly filled her…a sensation so delicious it had her wanting to curl her toes into the soles of her shoes.
“Could be,” Catherine breathed. “It very well could be.”
Two
C atherine sat in the exam room tapping her fingers against the side of the paper-covered mattress on which she sat. When she’d asked to make an appointment with Dr. Jacobs, she’d meant she merely wanted to talk to the man. However, the receptionist must have misunderstood and thought she needed medical assistance and had escorted her here.
Oh, well. It didn’t matter to Catherine if she talked to Riley in his office or in an examination room. She only wanted to talk to him.
Although the walls were painted a peaceful shade of blue, the newness of everything lent a stark feel. She wondered if all doctors in America tended to their patients in such impersonal surroundings.
A robe had been draped on the mattress for her. But she hadn’t touched it. Catherine couldn’t imagine taking off her clothing and wrapping the flimsy fabric around her body.
She felt a sudden appreciation for the royal physician who was on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for the von Husden family. Dr. Wallingford rushed to the palace to treat her father or her sisters or herself in the comfort of their own bedchambers whenever the need arose. However, house calls, as Americans would call them, were a thing of the past in this fast-paced, ultramodern society, she was sure.
Sitting on the exam table, Catherine felt her heart flutter. Her bout of nerves was caused by the brazenness of summoning Dr. Riley Jacobs, she knew. There wasn’t a darn thing wrong with her. And she wondered how he would react to that. What he would say. How he would be. But the most interesting speculation of all was whether she could make him smile.
That was her sole goal in being here.
Normally, anywhere she went she was treated with the utmost respect. Everyone she met practically fell over themselves to supply her every whim. But Dr. Jacobs didn’t know she was Princess Catherine von Husden. He’d had no idea when they’d met the day before yesterday that he’d been in the presence of royalty.
Royalty schmoyalty. What good was a gem-encrusted tiara, she wondered, if it kept you guessing whether people were treating you well simply because you were who you were, or because they truly wanted to be your friend?
She wanted Dr. Jacobs to be her friend. Heck, that wasn’t the full truth. She wanted more from him than that. She’d come to Portland seeking a naughty adventure. This vacation she’d planned would be her one and only chance to experience the sparks that flashed between a man and a woman.
All she had to do was figure out how to make his sparks flash. Catherine chuckled at the thought.
However, instinct told her that if she was going to get anywhere with the good doctor, the first thing she had to do was make him smile.
Two short raps on the door had her lifting her gaze. Dr. Jacobs pushed his way into the small exam room, his brow marred with a frown.
“So where are you hurting? You strain a muscle in the gym?”
Nothing like being direct. He was so grumpy, it was kind of cute.
“Hello to you, too,” she said.
Her bright greeting made him pause. He remained silent, just looking at her, and Catherine took full advantage of the quick second to give him a thorough once-over.
His eyes were a rich shade of brown with enticing flecks of amber. His eyelashes were thick. His hair—chestnut-brown with deep red highlights—was short and traditionally styled. She liked his clean-cut look. His smooth skin had an olive tone.
“When you were training to become a doctor,” she quipped, “you must have missed the lesson on bedside manner.”
The bedazzling smile she offered him had won over the Queen of England, herself. Surely it would charm him, too.
His frown faded, but his wide mouth didn’t curl up at the ends as she had hoped it would. Well, she’d just have to try harder.
“Just trying to get down to business.” He tossed the file onto the counter and reached for the stethoscope draped around his neck.
“I can’t say I know a thing about being a doctor,” she began, “but I’d think part of the ‘business’ of treating people is garnering their trust. Putting them at ease so they’ll feel comfortable enough to tell you about their problem.”
His jaw went tight. Apparently he didn’t take kindly to her friendly advice.
Feeling suddenly mischievous, she wondered just how far she could goad him until he caught on that he was being goaded.
“What would it hurt for you to have come into the room and greeted me with a happy hello?”
He dipped his chin just a bit. “Lady, I don’t give anyone a happy hello.”
That didn’t surprise her in the least. “Well, maybe you should. And how about asking about my day? That might be nice.”
The man looked about to implode, and Catherine could barely contain her laughter.
“Do you know,” she continued, “that we met two days ago, sat down together and talked, and you never even introduced yourself. I didn’t know your name until I asked Dr. Lassen. You’re too tense, Dr. Jacobs. Too focused.” She pinched her chin between her thumb and fingers, narrowing her gaze. “Do you think that’s a problem you might need to work on?”
A storm brewed all
