The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child: The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child

Ryder pushed open the door. Seconds later, she felt her back against the door and his mouth on hers.

“Do you know what your red mouth does to me?”

he muttered and plundered her lips. He slid his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, taking her.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She couldn’t resist the urge to lift her fingers to his hair and scalp.

He groaned in approval and rocked his hips against hers.

Bridget gasped, her breath locking somewhere between her lungs and throat. Somehow, someway, she craved his warmth and strength. His passion and need struck her at her core.

“I want you,” he said. “You want me. Let me stay for a while.”

A terrible wicked temptation rolled through her. If he stayed, he would fill her and take her away from her uncertainty and emptiness. She knew he could take care of her, if only for a little while.

He French-kissed her, sending her around the world at least a couple of times.

“You want me to stay?” he asked, sliding his mouth down over her ear.

She inhaled, grasping for sanity. Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate. “Yesandno,” she said, running the words together. She dipped her head so that her forehead rested against his chin. “This is a little fast.”

He gave a heavy, unsatisfied sigh. “Yeah, it is. But it’s strong.”

She nodded. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” he said cradling the back of her head. “It wouldn’t work out anyway.”

“Why is that?” she asked, leaning back to look at him.

“I’m a doctor. You’re a princess,” he said.

“So?” she asked.

“The two don’t mix,” he said. “And never will. Sweet dreams, Your Highness.”

He left and Bridget stared at the door, frowning. Why couldn’t they mix? Not that she wanted them to mix. And the sweet dreams thing really grated on her. That was what Eve had often said. It had seemed so sweet when she’d said it. Not so with Ryder. Bridget snarled. He was gone. Good riddance.

Ryder heard a knocking sound and shook his head as he glanced up during the meeting he was in to discuss the performance of the residents.

Dr. Wayne Hutt, Ryder’s nemesis, knocked on the table again. “Dr. McCall?” he said. “Anyone home?”

“Pardon me,” Ryder said in a crisp voice. “I was studying my notes.”

“Apology accepted,” Hutt said. “Drs. Robinson and Graham are having attendance issues.”

“Dr. Robinson is concerned about the welfare of his family in rural Virginia and Dr. Graham’s wife has just gotten pregnant,” Ryder said. “They just need a little time to refocus. It won’t be a problem.”

“How can you be sure?” Hutt challenged.

Ryder fought his antipathy for his associate. “I’m sure,” he said. “Just as Dr. Gordon Walters would be sure,” he said, pulling rank because everyone knew Dr. Walters trusted Ryder over anyone else.

Hutt gave an odd combination of a frown and grimace.

Dr. James Williams, chief of everything, nodded.

“We’ll give these two interns two weeks to make adjustments. Dr. McCall, you’ll speak to them?”

“Yes, sir.”

Seven minutes later, the meeting ended, thank God. He returned to his office and sent emails to Drs. Robinson and Graham to set up appointments. He answered another fifty emails and stood to make late rounds with his patients.

A knock sounded outside his door and Dr. Hutt walked inside. “Hey, Ryder. Late night. I’m surprised you can do this with the twins.”

Ryder resisted the urge to grind his teeth. “I’ve hired a new nanny and am getting new backup. Thanks for your concern. I need to do late rounds.”

“Just a minute,” Hutt said. “How’s Dr. Walters doing? No one’s talking.”

“He’s working through his recovery. These things take time,” Ryder hedged.

“That’s pretty vague,” Hutt said.

“You know I can’t discuss the confidential status of patients,” he said.

“But Walters isn’t really your patient,” Hutt continued.

“He’s my mentor and friend, the closest thing I’ve had to a father since my own father died when I was a kid. I’m not discussing his condition,” Ryder said.

“It must not be good,” Hutt said. “You know if the twins are too much for you, I’ll be glad to step in and help.”

Ryder just bet Hutt would like to step in and help. What Hutt really wanted was a promotion. What Hutt really wanted was to snatch Walters’s position away from Ryder. Although Ryder hated that Walters couldn’t fulfill his duties any longer.

“Thanks for the offer,” he said.

“Seriously, Ryder. I have a wife and a child. The wife is the critical element. She makes it easy for me to do my job. When you don’t have a wife …”

“I have a good new nanny,” he said.

“It’s not the same as a wife,” Hutt counseled.

“Hmm. See you. Good night,” he said and headed out the door. What Hutt didn’t understand was that Ryder had never had any intention of getting married and having children. He’d observed his parents’ disastrous marriage, his father’s death and his mother’s subsequent descent into alcoholism and death.

After that, Ryder had resolved that he wanted to heal people. Bag the personal relationships, with the exception of his brother and his family. His family became his patients, and after he completed his residency, his family included the new residents. And always Dr. Walters. He would never take a wife. His mind wandered to a visual of Bridget the last time he’d seen her, her eyes catlike with sensuality, her mouth soft and sensual, taking him into her. His mouth into her. When he really wanted to give her a lot more.

Ryder swore under his breath. This was all libido. He’d taken care of this issue before with other women doctors as career-driven as he was. No-ties sex provided a release that allowed him to do his job. Maintaining his focus on his profession and the twins was the most important thing. Bridget was just a distraction.

Bridget wandered around the medical association meeting and was bummed that Ryder wasn’t there. He was probably taking care of the twins. She felt a deep tug of sympathy and quickly tried to brush it aside. Ryder didn’t want her sympathy. They would never work. Remember? She covered her irritation with a smile as she nodded at someone else she didn’t know.

Halfway through the evening, the shrimp bowl was refilled and Bridget put a few on her plate.

“I always wait for the refill at these things,” a distinguished older man said to her.

She nodded in agreement. “I agree. Fresh is better. Bridget Devereaux,” she said, extending her free hand.

“Dr. James Williams, University Hospital,” he said shaking her hand. “Are you a pharmaceutical sales rep?”

She opened her mouth and it took a moment to speak. She smiled. “Not exactly. I’m representing the country of Chantaine. Very small country in the Mediterranean. We’re trying to recruit more doctors. We’re offering complimentary living expenses and paying special scholarships in addition to salary for a two-year stay.”

Dr. Williams lifted his white eyebrows. “Really? I’ll have to speak to my physician in charge of residents about that. Perhaps a couple of them could benefit from that.”

“I would appreciate that very much. I’m sure you’re a very busy man. Would you mind if I touch base with you in a week or so?”

“Not at all,” he said. “Some of our residents have money challenges. Don’t we all in this economy?”

“So true,” she said. “Are you the speaker tonight?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m lucky. Eat and leave.”

She laughed. “Don’t rub it in,” she said.

He laughed in return. “Tell me your name again. I don’t want to forget.”

“Bridget Devereaux,” she said, deliberately leaving out her title. “I represent Chantaine. I’m honored to meet you.”

“My pleasure to meet you, Miss Devereaux,” he said, and ate his shrimp cocktail.

Bridget worked the room the rest of the night and arranged a visit to the pediatric wing at Texas Medical Center to make a public service announcement for public health. She also met several doctors who wanted to pursue a more personal relationship, but she demurred at the same time that she gave them her card which contained a number for her assistant.

By the time the evening was done, her feet were also done. Her mind wandered to Ryder and the babies, but she tried to push her thoughts aside. With a glass of white wine in her hand, she kicked off her high heels and watched television in her suite at the hotel.

She closed her eyes. Soon enough she would be in Italy with a gorgeous Italian man keeping her company. She smiled at the image, but soon another image flashed in its place. Ryder, sans shirt, stood before her and dragged her into his arms and began to make love to her. He was so hot that smoke rose between them, but the sensation of his skin against hers made her dizzy. His kiss made her knees weak. He made her want in a way she never had….

She felt herself sinking into the couch, her body warm and pliable. And alone.

Bridget blinked and sat up against the couch. This was just wrong. He’d already said they wouldn’t work because of who he was, because of who she was. A part of her rebelled against the notion one moment. The next, she didn’t. She didn’t have room for this drama in her life. She had goals. She had Italy in her future.

Bridget washed her face and brushed her teeth, determined to put Ryder from her mind. As she fell asleep, though, she dreamed of Ryder and the boys.

A few days later, Ryder followed up on a surgery patient midday. The young man had been admitted to the E.R. with appendicitis. Ryder had operated and needed to give his stamp of approval for the teen to be discharged. He was stopped because there was filming in the pediatric unit.

Slightly irritated, he checked his text messages on his cell and answered a few.

“She’s a princess making a video,” one nurse said to another.

He snapped his head up at the comment. “Princess?” he repeated.

“Yes,” the nurse said. “But she’s very nice. Not at all snooty. I got her coffee and she was very grateful. More than a lot of doctors.”

“She wasn’t trying to save lives,” Ryder said.

The nurse shrugged. “Anyone can say please and thank you, and she did.”

Minutes later, Bridget appeared, lighting up the room with her smile. The chief of Pediatrics accompanied her, clearly dazzled.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much from Chantaine and me. You have been wonderful.”

“Isn’t she wonderful? Now that is a princess,” the nurse said.

Ryder wanted to make a wry, cynical response, but he was too busy staring at Bridget. And the damned pediatric chief. She seemed to glow. He remembered how she’d felt in his arms, how that wicked red mouth had felt against his. He remembered how she’d made him smile. Not many people had managed to do that during the last few months.

She squeezed the pediatrics chief’s arm, then glanced around the room and waved. Her gaze locked with his and he felt a surge of need all the way down to his feet. It was sexual, but more, and confused the hell out of him. She gave a quick little wave and returned her attention to the pediatric chief.

Ryder felt an inexplicable surge of jealousy. Where the hell had that come from? Pushing it aside, he continued to his patient’s room for the final exam. Less than five minutes later, he headed down the hallway toward his office. Rounding a corner, he nearly plowed into Bridget and Dr. Ware, the pediatrics chief, who was chatting her up. His body language said he wanted to eat her with a spoon. His hand placed on the wall above her head, he leaned toward her. Ryder fought the crazy urge to push him away, but turned his head instead.

“Ryder. Dr. McCall,” Bridget said.

He slowed his steps and turned around and nodded in her direction.

“How are you? The twins? The new nanny?” she asked, her gaze searching his.

Ware stepped beside her. “Whoa, she knows a lot about you, McCall. How did that happen?”

Ryder shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess. I’m good. The twins are good and the new nanny is fantastic. I could say I owe you my life, but I’d be afraid you’d take it.”

She shot him a look of mock offense. “You know better than that. Besides, it’s not your life that I want,” she said with a laugh.

Ware looked from one of them to the other, clearly curious. “What does she want? And why in the world wouldn’t you give it to her?”

“She wants my residents,” he said, meeting her gaze.

“After they’ve completed your program,” she insisted. “Plus, I only want to borrow them for a couple of years, and they’ll be well compensated.”

“You could throw her one or—” Dr. Ware’s pager sounded. “Please excuse me. I need to go. You have my card, Your Highness. Give me a call. Anytime,” he said with a hopeful smile and rushed away.

Bridget sighed and turned to Ryder. “Are you going to do the civilized thing and ask me to join you for lunch?”

“If I haven’t been civilized before, why should I start now?” Ryder retorted because Bridget made him feel anything but civilized.

“I suppose because you owe me your life,” she said with a glint in her eyes.

He gave a muffled chuckle. “Okay, come along. I better warn you that lunch won’t last longer than fifteen minutes.”

“Ah, so you’re into quickies. What a shame,” she said and began to walk.

“I didn’t say that,” he said, but resisted the urge to pull at his collar which suddenly felt too tight.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. All evidence points in that direction.”

“How did we get on this subject?” he asked.

“You said you wouldn’t last more than fifteen minutes,” she said, meeting his gaze with eyes so wide and guileless that he wondered how she did it.

“I said lunch won’t last—” He broke when he saw her smile. “Okay, you got me on that one. I hope you don’t mind cafeteria food.”

“Not at all,” she said as they walked into the cafeteria.

He noticed several people stared in their direction, but she seemed to ignore it. They each chose a couple dishes and he paid for both, then guided her to a less-occupied table at the back of the room. “How did your video go today?”

“Hopefully, well. I interviewed Dr. Ware about preventative health for children. I also need to do one for adults. But enough about that. How are the twins?” she asked, clearly eager for information.

“I think the new nanny is making a big difference for them. This is the most calm I’ve seen them since I took custody of them,” he said. “The nanny also suggested that I do some extra activities with them, but I haven’t worked that into the schedule yet.”

“What kind of activities?” she asked, and took a bite of her chicken.

“Swimming,” he said then lowered his voice. “Baby yoga.”

“Oh. Do you take yoga?” she asked and sipped her hot tea.

“Never in my life,” he said. “The nanny seems to think this would increase bonding between the three of us.”

“That makes you uncomfortable,” she said.

He shrugged. “I hadn’t planned on having kids. I guess I’m still adjusting, too.”

“You’ve been through a lot. Perhaps you should see a therapist,” she said.

“We’re doing okay now,” he said defensively.

“I don’t suggest it as an insult. The palace is always giving us head checks especially since my sister Ericka had her substance-abuse problem. I’m surprised it’s not required in this situation.”

“A social worker has visited a few times to check on things. She actually suggested the same thing,” he said reluctantly. “She said I need to make sure I’m having fun with the boys instead of it being all work.”

“There you go,” she said. “I think it’s a splendid idea. You just seem incredibly overburdened and miserable.”

“Thank you for that diagnosis, Your Highness,” he said drily and dug into his dry salmon filet. “Funny, a friend of mine said something similar recently.”

“We all have to protect against burnout. I would say you’re more in danger of it than most.”

“Is there such a thing as princess burnout?” he asked.

“Definitely. That’s what happened to my sister Valentina. She carried the load too long.”

“And what are you doing to prevent burnout?”

“I have an extended break planned in my future. In the meantime, I try to make sure I get enough rest and solitude whenever possible. As soon as I wrap up the doctor assignment, I’ll get a break. I’m hoping you’ll toss me one or two of your residents as Dr. Ware suggested to get the ball rolling.”

“It’s going to be more difficult than that,” he said.

“I don’t see why it needs to be. It’s not as if I’m seriously asking for your top neurosurgeons. We would love a general practitioner or family doctor. In fact, we would prefer it.”

“You and the rest of the world. We actually have a shortage of family physicians, too.”

“Again, I’m only asking to borrow them.”

“What do you think of Dr. Ware?” he asked, changing the subject again.

“He’s lovely. Unlike you, he’s totally enchanted with my position and title.”

“Part of my charm. Part of the reason you find me irresistible.”

“You flatter yourself,” she said.

“Do I?” he challenged. “You’ve missed me.”

“Of course I haven’t. You already said nothing would work between us. Of course, that was after you tried to shag me against the hotel door. I mean, you obviously have the attention span of a fruit fly when it comes to women and—”

He closed his hand over hers. “Will you shut up for a minute?”

Surprisingly, she did.

“I dream about you whenever I get the rare opportunity to sleep. I’ve dialed your number and hung up too many times to count. You can’t want to get involved with me right now.”

“It’s not for you to tell me what I can and can’t want. Lord knows, everyone else does that. Don’t you start.”

“Okay,” he said wearily.

“So what are you going to do about it?” she challenged.

If he said what he wanted to do, he could be arrested. “I think I’ll show instead of tell,” he said and watched with satisfaction as her throat and face bloomed with color. He wondered if her blush extended to the rest of her body. It would be fun to find out.

Chapter Four

Two days later, Bridget’s cell phone rang and her heart went pitter-patter at the number on the caller ID. “Hello,” she said in a cool voice.

“Hello to you, Your Highness. How are you?” Ryder asked.

“I’m actually getting ready to make an appearance for a children’s art program in Dallas,” she said, smiling at the people who were waiting for her.

“Okay, I’ll make this quick. Are you free tonight?”

She rolled her eyes. The man clearly had no idea how many demands were placed on her once people got word she was in the area. “I’m not often free but can sometimes make adjustments. What did you have in mind?”

“Swimming,” he said.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Swimming with the twins and pizza,” he said.

“The pizza had better be fabulous. Ciao,” she said and disconnected the call, but she felt a crazy surge of happiness zing through her as she followed the museum representatives inside the room where the children and press awaited.

Bridget gave a brief speech about the importance of art at all levels of society and dipped her hands and feet in purple paint. She stepped on a white sheet of paper, then pressed her handprints above and finished with her autograph.

The crowd applauded and she was technically done, but she stayed longer to talk to the children as they painted and worked on various projects. Their warmth and responsiveness made her feel less jaded, somehow less weary. Who would have thought it possible?

After extensive rearrangements of her schedule, Bridget put on her swimsuit and had second thoughts. What had possessed her to agree to join Ryder for a swim class when she was in a nearly naked state? She didn’t have a perfectly slim body. In fact, if honest, she was curvy with pouches. Her bum was definitely larger than her top.

Her stomach clenched. Oh, bloody hell, she might as well be thirteen years old again. Forget it, she told herself. It wasn’t as if anything could happen. She and Ryder would have two six-month-old chaperones.

Within forty-five minutes, she and Ryder stood in a pool with Tyler and Travis. Tyler stuck to her like glue, his eyes wide and fearful. “It’s okay,” she coaxed, bobbing gently in the water.

Ryder held Travis, who was screaming bloody murder.

“Are we having fun yet?” he asked, holding his godson securely.

“Should we sing?” she asked, trying not to be distracted by Ryder’s broad shoulders and well-muscled arms and chest. For bloody’s sake, when did the man have time to work out?

“They would throw us out,” he said. “You look good in water.”

She felt a rush of pleasure. “Thank you. Is Travis turning purple?”

“I think it’s called rage,” he said.

“Would you like to switch off for a moment?”

“Are you sure?” he asked doubtfully.

She nodded. “Let me give him a go,” she said.

Tyler protested briefly at the exchange, then attached himself to Ryder. Travis continued to scream, so she lowered her mouth to his ear and began to quietly sing a lullaby from her childhood. Travis cried, but the sound grew less intense. She kept singing and he made sad little yelps, then finally quieted.

“Aren’t you the magic one?” Ryder said.

“Luck,” she said and cooed at the baby, swirling him around in the water. “Doesn’t this feel good?” she murmured.

By the end of class, they’d switched off again and Travis was cackling and shrieking with joy as he splashed and kicked and Ryder whirled him around in the water.

As soon as they stepped from the pool, they wrapped the boys in snuggly towels. Ryder rubbed Travis’s arms. She did the same with Tyler and he smiled at her. Her heart swelled at his sweetness. “You are such a good boy. Isn’t he?” she said to Ryder.

“You bet,” Ryder said and pressed his mouth against Tyler’s chubby cheek, making a buzzing sound. Tyler chortled with joy.

“That sound is magic,” she said.

Ryder nodded as he continued to rub Travis. “Yeah, it is.” His glance raked her from head to toe and he shook his head. “You look pretty damn good.”

Bridget felt a warmth spread from her belly to her chest and face, down her legs, all the way to her toes. “It’s just been a long time for you,” she said and turned away to put some clothes on Tyler.

A second later, she felt Ryder’s bare chest against her back. An immediate visceral response rocked through her and she was torn between jumping out of her skin and melting. “Yeah, it has,” he said. “But that shouldn’t make you so damn different from every other woman I’ve met.”

Her stomach dipped. “Stop flattering me,” she said. “Get your baby dressed. You don’t want him chilled.”

After pizza and a raucous bath time, Ryder and Bridget rocked the babies and put them to bed. Ryder would have preferred to usher Bridget into his bed and reacquaint himself with the curves he’d glimpsed in the pool, but he would have to bide his time. Hopefully not too long, he told himself as his gaze strayed to the way her hips moved in her cotton skirt. He’d thought he was so smart getting her out of most of her clothes by inviting her to the baby swimming class. Now he would live with those images all night long.

“Wine?” he asked, lifting a bottle from the kitchen before he joined her in the den.

She had sunk onto the sofa and leaned her head back against it, unintentionally giving him yet another seductive photo for his mental collection. One silky leg crossed over the other while the skirt hugged her hips. The V-neck of her black shirt gave him just a glimpse of creamy cleavage. For once, her lips were bare, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to kiss her.