The Royal Doctor's Bride. Jessica Matthews

can remain anonymous and still become reacquainted with your family. The point is, life is too short to bear grudges.”

      Thinking of her father, who’d died as much from heartache as heart disease, Gina’s eyes burned with unexpected moisture.

      “Aren’t you the least bit interested in hearing their side of the story?” he coaxed, as if hoping curiosity would sway her.

      “Will it change anything?” she demanded. “Rewrite the past? Restore my father to the family he loved? Take away my mother’s sorrow and guilt for causing him to choose between her and his family? I think not.”

      “I agree those wrongs can’t be undone, but we have to resolve this crisis.”

      “I don’t have to do anything,” she retorted, blinking away her unshed tears. “My father left Avelogne and his family long ago. I don’t intend to get involved with either now.”

      He fell silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. “If you don’t want to deal with the royal family, you don’t have to.”

      “I don’t?”

      He shook his head. “The real solution lies between the two of us anyway.”

      She stared at him, puzzled. “You’ve lost me.”

      “While it would help matters if Avelogne could show the world a reunited royal house—namely that Arthur’s daughter has been reinstated into the fold—it isn’t required. Your relationship with me is the important thing.”

      “Because of your aunt?” she guessed.

      “Yes. On behalf of my entire family, I’d like to apologize for her selfish actions.”

      She tapped one foot on the floor. “What exactly was her motive for ruining my parents’ lives?”

      He didn’t comment, although he heaved a great sigh. “Margret fell in love with your father and believed that if your mother, Lizbet, disappeared from the scene, she would be able to earn Arthur’s affections.” He paused. “She was quite shocked when he relinquished his claim to the throne and moved to America. The situation didn’t play out quite as she’d planned.”

      “I’ll say,” she said wryly. “Whatever her reasons, though, I don’t hold you responsible. Neither the past nor your royal connectionswill interfere with our employer-employee status. As far as I’m concerned, we’re simply two physicians who happen to work together in the same department, in the same hospital. So you can call whomever you need to and announce the good news. Then life for everyone can return to normal.”

      He smiled, as if she’d amused him with her simplistic solution. “It’s a start, but, as I’ve already said, your people demand more than an apology. They want their prince back.”

      Do you hear that, Dad? A pain shot through her heart. If only he’d lived long enough to see this day. “Impossible,” she said flatly.

      He nodded. “Which is why the situation is complicated.”

      “I was afraid you would say that,” she said dryly. “But, complicated or not, I can’t help you.”

      He started to speak, but the door edged open and Lucy poked her head inside.

      “We’re getting a couple of traumas in about five minutes. Two stabbing victims.”

      Gina had never been so relieved to have patients coming into the ED before. She could deal with medical situations far better than she could sort out diplomatic problems of countries she’d only seen on the map and in occasional family photos.

      “Thanks, Lucy,” she said. “We’ll be right there.”

      Lucy vanished, apparently without noticing the tension in the office. From the look on Ruark’s face, he was clearly glad for the reprieve as well.

      “We’ll discuss this further tonight,” he said. “When we won’t be interrupted or distracted.”

      “There isn’t anything to discuss,” she protested.

      “You need to hear everything,” he insisted. “The least you can do is listen.”

      She wanted to refuse but, after seeing the fierce determination on his face, she knew he wouldn’t give up.

      She faced him squarely. “OK, but in the meantime you will not breathe a syllable of this conversation to anyone. No one knows my background and I prefer to keep it that way.”

      “You have my word,” he agreed. Immediately, he opened the door. “After you, Dr Sutton.”

      Setting aside her host of questions to mentally gear up for her patients, Gina hurried toward the centrally located nurses’ station. “Page Frank,” she told Ruby, the desk clerk, referring to their surgical resident, Frank Horton.

      With the phone tucked under one ear, Ruby mouthed, “I’m already on it.” Then she spoke into the receiver. “I don’t care where you have to find him, just do it. We need him in the ER, stat!”

      Gina rushed into the opposite hallway to check if Trauma Room One was available, and found Ruark following her like a shadow. “What are you doing here? Bill didn’t—”

      “It’s a new day. Bill isn’t here any longer,” he pointed out. “As I understand the job, I’m supposed to be available for traumas, and here I am.”

      Only if I need you, she wanted to protest. But then, with two patients coming in and not knowing the condition of either, she might need an extra pair of hands. The only question was, would he function like Bill and be more hindrance than help?

      “Afraid I’ll find your department doesn’t run smoothly?” he asked.

      “We run just fine,” she defended tartly. “Feel free to observe for yourself.” Already dismissing him, she asked no one in particular, “Where’s Casey?”

      Another nurse scurried past. “Dr Casey left for his dentist appointment ten minutes ago. Remember?”

      How could she have forgotten? Of all the days for him to lose a temporary filling. But considering what had happened so far this morning, she would count herself fortunate if a natural disaster didn’t occur.

      “Dr Powers is supposed to cover, but he can’t come until one-thirty.” Toby Powers was a physician who was close to retirement and worked two shifts a week.

      “Staff problems?” Ruark asked.

      “Nothing we can’t work around.”

      The ambulance bay doors near the nurses’ station swooshed open and she rushed forward to greet the two paramedics and the gurney carrying her first patient.

      “Twenty-five-year-old male with multiple wounds to the chest,” one of the paramedics, Tim Abbott, reported. “Open pneumothorax. BP is one ten over sixty-five…”

      Gina listened to his recitation as she donned her protective gear, including a face shield, while following the gurney into the trauma room. Not only was the man’s blood pressure low and his heart rate increased, but his skin was cold and clammy and he appeared restless in spite of his cervical and thoracic spine immobilization. Tim had already inserted an endotracheal tube in the field, but her patient still struggled to breathe and showed jugular vein distension.

      She raised the large bandage covering his bloody chest and saw eight puncture wounds, with the largest one near the heart showing frothy blood. Because air and blood were leaking into his thoracic cavity, his lungs couldn’t inflate properly. Her work was cut out for her.

      To her surprise, a similarly gowned and gloved Ruark appeared in the room. “I’ve got it under control,” she said as she, Tim, Lucy, another nurse and now Ruark prepared to move her patient from the ambulance gurney to a hospital bed.

      “Are you warning me away from your patient, Dr Sutton?” he