to do. Trained at a nursing school, then a midwifery program near Seattle, which is where I’m from.”
“And you came here after training?”
“No. I worked at a private midwifery unit there for quite a while. Came here two years ago.”
Was he imagining the shuttering of her eyes? That the relaxed smile on her face just moments ago had stiffened into something else? “Was it the appeal of working with famous people that drew you here?” He didn’t think so—she just didn’t seem like the type to care about that, but it wasn’t as though he really knew her.
“No. They’d approached me a few years before I came, then I...decided I wanted a change, and let them know I was available. How about you?” Her brown eyes held something—sadness maybe?—along with a clear determination to change the subject. “I have to admit it’s surprising to me that someone born a prince would decide to become a doctor.”
“Unless that prince is the second born. My parents saw my role within the kingdom as leading charity work, and while that’s worthwhile, I felt there were plenty of others who would happily take on that job. I wanted a career helping people in my own way, and my parents never understood that. Also, they got very annoyed the times I ducked out of various superficial royal duties.”
“What kind of royal duties?”
“Number one would be cutting a ribbon for the grand opening of a museum or concert hall or school. I was taught from a young age how to keep my scissors sharp.”
He was glad she laughed at his joke, but there was a nugget of truth to it. His parents couldn’t fathom why he’d become a doctor, and Gabriella no doubt wouldn’t be able to understand that attitude, since she was a medical professional too. God knew, he’d spent years trying to figure out why they disapproved of him and his choices, and he had finally given up worrying about it.
“Since you could be anything you wanted to be, how did you decide to go into medicine?”
“From the time I was small, I was fascinated with anatomy, dissecting worms and frogs with my tutors. Later, I insisted on studying the animals butchered on our land to feed the royal household and its guests, much to my mother’s horror.”
Her dazzling, real smile came back, lighting the darkness of their corner table. “I can imagine that might be alarming. Did she think you might grow up to be an axe murderer?”
“Probably. Or, worse, a livestock farmer. Facing the options of her son’s occupation being murderer, farmer, or doctor, she reluctantly accepted the latter.”
“A wise woman. So how did you decide to become an OB/GYN? Or is that something personal I don’t want to know?”
Her soft laughter had him staring at her mouth, and he wished that, just once, he could taste it. Just to see if it was as soft and sweet as it looked like it would be. “My reputation isn’t as bad as you might have heard, so it’s not the reason you’re thinking. You of all people should know the amazement and joy of assisting a new life. I had that experience totally by accident, when I was visiting a sheikh friend whose wife went into labor unexpectedly. Being there with my friend and his wife to bring their newborn into the world was such an amazing experience, I knew that was what I wanted to do.”
“That’s a wonderful story. You could have just spent your life traveling the world in search of fun, but instead want to make a difference in people’s lives. I really respect that.”
The way her eyes shined at him in genuine admiration had him nearly confessing to the many failings he was all too guilty of, but letting her think he was wonderful was far preferable. “I went to medical school with James Rothsberg. We learned what hard work and drive could accomplish, no matter which world you’re born into.” Especially when that world always looked to find the worst in you, instead of the best. Set examples he had no interest in following, like tethering yourself to a permanent marital relationship for no reason other than convenience.
Her expression turned even more admiring, and as she opened her mouth to ask another question he realized he’d already said too much in terms of true confessions for the night. “Would you care for coffee? How about a look at the dessert menu? I’m guessing you’re still not quite full.”
“Again, your comment could be interpreted as an insult instead of an offer. But I’ll let it slide, since I did put teeth marks on my spoon.”
“And the price of a replacement spoon will doubtless be added to the bill, but just this once I’ll take care of it. So, dessert?”
“No, thank you.” Her fingertips covered a small yawn that morphed into a big one, until she laughed about it. And what was more adorable than a woman who could poke fun at herself? “I’m sorry, but I’m really, really tired. Worked several double shifts, then stayed with Cameron for the past two days. And she needed a thing or two over all those hours that interrupted my dozing.”
“I can only imagine,” he said dryly, picturing Cameron wanting any number of luxuries as she’d lain in that bed. “And can also imagine you giving her the best of care, regardless of the way it was requested.”
“Do I deserve all that credit if I was sometimes secretly irritated in the midst of it?” Her grin was interrupted by another yawn, this one audible. “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry. I need to get home to sleep.”
“Yes, you do.” He quickly scribbled on the check and rose to take her elbow, helping her from the chair to guide her out the door. It was apparent she’d been pushing herself past her limit for days, and he was struck with a sudden, surprising desire to take care of her. A wish that he was close enough to her to have the right to tuck her into bed for a long, well-deserved rest.
But he wasn’t and couldn’t be. Problem was, only moments after she settled into the leather seat of his car, she fell fast asleep.
So what was he supposed to do now? He drove toward the clinic, the original plan being to drop her off so she could drive her car to her own home. If he had any idea where that was, he would simply drive her there himself. But he didn’t have a clue if she lived east or west or north or south of the clinic.
He glanced at her for the tenth time, noting the way the peach-blonde fire of her hair had slipped across her face. Tangling in her long lashes, the silken strands caressed her cheekbones and lay across the corner of her lush lips. Pulling to a stop in the clinic lot, he reached over to gently smooth her hair back, letting his fingers linger on the softness of both her cheek and hair.
“Gabriella? Gabby?” For the first time he used her nickname and found he much preferred her given name, which he’d enjoyed the sound of the moment it had first rolled off his tongue. Gabriella. It suited her. Beautiful and feminine. Strong and intelligent. “Wake up. Do you want me to take you home, instead of you driving there? Where do you live?”
No response at all. Just the sound of gentle breathing through slightly parted lips. He did the usual things. Shook her slender shoulder. Asked the same questions louder. And when she still slept like an angel, he made up his mind.
Instead of rousing her enough to get her in her car to drive home, possibly still dangerously half-asleep, he’d take her to his house and tuck her into one of the comfortable guest suites. That way, she’d be sure to get the long sleep she obviously desperately needed. After all, it was his fault she wasn’t already in bed, having insisted she dine with him tonight.
Hopefully
