surprise our visitors.’
And it seemed that Hugo DeLeon was giving it his best shot. Nell had been told that he was a doctor as well as a prince, and that her advice would be a matter of reinforcing a message that he was already well aware of. In other words, he reckoned that the physical limits that applied to ordinary people weren’t for the likes of a prince, and he needed to be kept in check.
Nell had no idea in which direction they were supposed to be going, but she was aware that the car seemed to be taking a circuitous route past a number of notable buildings, all of which Hugo was intent on pointing out. If he thought that was going to deflect her from her purpose, he was wrong.
‘I’m looking forward to seeing the palace.’ She smiled brightly, wondering whether he’d take the hint.
‘We’re nearly there now.’ Hugo raised his voice a little. ‘Jean-Pierre...’
The driver nodded, turning smoothly onto a wide, straight boulevard and putting his foot on the gas. It seemed that everyone here responded to Hugo’s every word, which was the first challenge attached to this new appointment.
The ambassador, who had interviewed her at the embassy in London, had said little but implied a lot. He’d got her medical qualifications and the fact that she spoke French tolerably well out of the way in the first five minutes. Then he’d turned the conversation around to her patient.
‘Hugo DeLeon, Crown Prince of Montarino, can be...’ The ambassador had paused slightly before coming to a conclusion about how to describe it. ‘He can be self-willed.’
Nell had read arrogant into his words and had smiled politely. She had experience of dealing with all kinds of patients, and self-willed wasn’t a problem. Neither was arrogant.
What the ambassador hadn’t warned her about was his smile. It was polite, appropriate, and yet it seemed to hold real warmth. His high cheekbones lent a touch of class, and his shock of dark blonde hair, no doubt artfully arranged to make it appear slightly tousled, added a boyish note. Green eyes gave a hint that Hugo DeLeon was capable of some pretty serious mischief. Nell would have to watch out for those eyes.
But however handsome he was, however his smile made her stomach quiver, Nell had a job to do. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her handbag, which lay comfortingly across her knees. A man had gotten between her and her job before, and no one, not even this handsome prince, was going to do it again.
* * *
White knuckles. Hugo was used to looking for the little signs that told him what people were really thinking, and he’d noticed that Nell was clutching her handbag on her lap like some kind of defensive weapon. Despite the firm tone and the clear hints that he shouldn’t have come to the airport, there was a chink in her armour. One that he may well need to find and exploit if it turned out that the restrictions she placed on him got in the way of his current plans.
They’d driven through the grounds of the palace and the car stopped at the ceremonial entrance to allow them to get out. She gave the high, pillared archways a glance and then turned to him as the car moved smoothly away.
‘My luggage...’
‘Jean-Pierre will arrange for it to be taken up to your apartment.’ A sudden flare of panic had shown in Nell’s eyes, and Hugo almost felt sorry for her. But keeping her a little off-balance, a little over-awed was exactly what he wanted.
‘Right. Thank you.’
‘Perhaps I can show you around.’ The palace was big enough and grand enough to disorientate her even further.
‘I think that’s best left for some other time.’ She was as sweet-smelling and soft as a summer’s day, but there was no getting over the determination behind it all. ‘This...apartment. I was told that it would be next door to yours.’
‘Yes, it is.’ If Hugo had had any say in the matter, he’d have put her on the other side of the building, but he hadn’t. His father didn’t often step into his life, but when he did, he did it thoroughly.
‘With a connecting door?’
So someone had told her about that, too. Or maybe she’d asked. Hugo had rather hoped that he could just keep the connecting door closed and that it would never occur to anyone to open it.
‘Yes, that’s right. It’s generally kept locked...’ Finding the key was an easy enough matter on the rare occasions that he brought a girlfriend with him to stay at the palace for a few days, but he was sure he could just as easily lose it.
‘I imagine someone has the key. Being a doctor yourself, you’ll understand the need to have access to your patient.’
‘And I’m sure you’ll understand where your duties begin and end.’ Since the pleasantries didn’t seem to be working all that well, it was obviously time to make things clear.
‘The ambassador outlined them, yes.’ She pressed her lips together and Hugo imagined that the British Ambassador had deployed all of the expected diplomacy in the matter. ‘The King’s letter of appointment, on the other hand, was a little less circumspect.’
Great. So his father had decided that he needed to weigh in on that as well. And even if the tiny quiver at the side of Nell’s mouth told Hugo that she was feeling over-awed and nervous, her cool gaze indicated that she wasn’t going to let that stop her from doing her job.
‘Perhaps we should talk, over some tea.’ Since deflection wasn’t working, maybe negotiation would. The next step would be outright battle, and Hugo would prefer to avoid that.
‘Yes. I think that would be a very good idea.’
HUGO HAD OPENED the door that concealed the lift, and when she’d seen the old-fashioned gates, she’d slipped in front of him, heaving them to one side. Part of him was grateful, but a greater part decreed that as a gentleman, and her host, he should have been quicker in insisting he open the gates himself. When he motioned her ahead of him into the lift, she hovered annoyingly next to the gates, giving him no opportunity to open them when they reached the third floor.
He showed her to her apartment, leaving her alone to freshen up. That would give him at least three quarters of an hour to rest before he had to submit to another onslaught from her.
Hugo sank gratefully into the chair in his private sitting room and closed his eyes. This morning he had woken feeling invigorated, and it had only been the pain in his shoulder that had reminded him he was unable to move mountains. Wide awake, his body feeling the immediate benefit of a heart that was now paced and doing its job properly, he’d jumped at the chance of getting out of the constriction of four walls, but it had worn him out. His own advice to pacemaker patients—that they might start to feel better almost immediately but must rest and get over the operation first—would be given with a lot more certainty in the future.
Fifteen minutes later, a quiet knock sounded on the main door to the apartment and he shouted to whoever it was to come in, keeping his eyes closed. If someone was here to make the tea or fuss over him, then he’d rather they waited until he was strong enough to smilingly refuse their help.
‘How are you feeling?’ Nell’s voice
