“Mind if I join you?”
Isabelle looked up to find Aidan standing beside her chair. His approach so silent she would have sworn she was alone.
“Of course not, pull up a piece of beach and sit a while. I’ve got sandwiches, juice, and water if you’re interested.” She motioned to the cooler behind her the kitchen staff insisted she bring along, though she was only yards from the palace.
“Thanks, maybe later.”
Aidan plopped down in the sand next to her beach chair, digging his toes into the warm sand, his gaze politely averted from her face. Isabelle knew it was out of courtesy he refrained from commenting on her puffy eyes and lackluster welcome, and for that, she was grateful.
She looked down at the romance novel on her lap, the words blurring before her eyes. Why hadn’t she picked out a murder mystery or something with a gory final chapter instead of a hearts-and-flowers, he-loves-me-forever ending?
“My brother is a first-rate fool.”
“You won’t get an argument from me.” The tears pricked at the back of her eyelids.
“For whatever its worth, he and Marissa have never even been in the same room together, let alone had a conversation.” Aidan fiddled with a handful of sand, the grains sifting through his fingers.
Isabelle didn’t know what to say or if she should say anything at all. She kept her gaze firmly on the horizon.
“Doctor Tandori.”
Isabelle shaded her eyes with her hand and looked in the direction of the man running toward her on the deserted beach, shouting her name.
“That looks like Anton, one of the palace security guards,” Aidan said, climbing quickly to his feet.
She stood, watching the man’s approach as panic filled her chest.
“Doctor Tandori, you must come now. It’s an emergency.”
His words carried over the sand and Isabelle dropped the book and ran as quickly as she could across the beach following the security guard, Aidan following close at her heels.
They raced through the palace into the king’s suite.
“Denton, what’s happening?”
The male nurse was frantic, as he tried to describe what happened. Isabelle moved quickly to Philippe’s side, her gaze locked on the portable bedside monitor.
“The king was out on the terrace. He came in to lie down, and then suddenly clutched at his chest, complaining of intense pain. I immediately summoned the guards to find you.”
“I’m glad you did. Philippe, I need you to answer some questions for me.”
Eyes still closed, King Philippe nodded, his voice faint and shaky. “You and your questions.”
Isabelle lifted his hand searching for a pulse, noting the clamminess of his skin and the sweat glistening on his face.
“Tell me how you feel.”
“Like an elephant is sitting on my chest. Every time I try to take a breath the pain increases. I feel nauseated, as though my lunch isn’t sitting well.” His words now raspy and hoarse.
His blood pressure was dropping, his pulse thready and erratic. But it was the gray pallor of his face that concerned Isabelle. “Call for an ambulance. Let them know the king is suffering from a myocardial infarction.” Denton hurried off to do her bidding. She then turned back to Philippe. “We’re going to the hospital and there will be no argument.”
“As you wish, my dear.”
“What do you need me to do?” Aidan was by her side.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to wait out front for the ambulance?”
Aidan shook his head. “No, I’d rather be here with Father.”
“Start an IV, and he needs more oxygen.”
“Aidan?” The king lifted his hand, motioning his younger son closer.
“Yes, Father.” He moved to the side of the bed, taking his father’s hand in his.
“It’s nice to have you home again.”
“It’s nice to be here, Father. Now please do as Isabelle says.” Aidan leaned over the bed and gently placed a kiss on his father’s brow before securing the oxygen mask. Then he quickly turned his attention toward placing an IV line in the King’s left arm.
“Philippe, I want you to hold this nitroglycerin pill under your tongue. Don’t chew or swallow it. Let it dissolve on its own. Are you able to do that?”
“Yes, but first I must tell you that I’ll have the surgery. Whatever you need to do, I’m ready.” The words were whispered.
Isabelle gave Philippe the pill, then resumed watching his vitals, the leads to the EKG in place and the test started.
Denton returned his position by the bedside. “The paramedics will be here any minute and the guards will escort them in post haste.”
“Good.” Isabelle kept her eyes on the screen, and then printed off the EKG strip for the paramedics.
“IV is in place, taped and secure, oxygen at high flow volume. What else do you need me to do?”
Isabelle turned toward the younger man, lowering her stethoscope. “Call your brother. We’ll meet him at the hospital; tell him not to waste time getting there.”
Aidan stepped from the room to place the call and returned within a few minutes with the paramedics in tow. “He’s on his way.”
Isabelle stepped back out of the way and watched the paramedics carefully place King Philippe on the gurney as they wheeled him from the bedroom.
“I’d like to ride with the king.” Isabelle told the paramedic.
“Of course, there’s room for both you and Prince Aidan.”
“Thank you.” Isabelle glanced down at her clothes and realized she was still wearing her shorts and a t-shirt. At present, there was no time to run to her suite and change clothes, she would have to go as she was dressed.
Looking at Philippe, her stomach plummeted. Time had officially run out for the king. This was not the way she envisioned having to proceed, but with the heart attack, they would have no choice but to go forward with the surgery. And the sooner the better.
Jumping down from the back of the ambulance, Isabelle followed the gurney through the emergency room entrance to find Nicholas pacing back and forth in front of the reception desk.
She moved forward and took hold of his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, preventing him from following the paramedics as they took Philippe into an exam room. “Let them do their job and get your father settled before you go barging in there.”
He looked down at her hand on his arm, and then let out a shaky breath. “You’re right, of course. What happened?”
Isabelle dropped her hand to her side and stepped back from Nicholas. She needed to focus on the man down the hall, not the one by her side.
“Your father suffered a major heart attack, though I doubt you need me to explain any of this to you.”
“How serious is it?”
“Once he’s stabilized, we have no choice but to proceed with surgery. I’ve alerted the doctors and they’ve started preparations. Another attack like this could kill him and that is still a distinct possibility until we’ve found a donor.” They walked a few steps down the hallway, stopping in front of the exam room. On the other side, Philippe was being hooked up to a wide variety of machines and monitors.
Nicholas stared down at the frail man on the hospital bed through the window of the examination room.
“Once all the test results are in, I’ll know where we stand.”
“Do whatever necessary to save my father. No matter what.” Nicholas lifted his hand to the glass panel as though willing his father to live.
• • •
Isabelle opened her eyes in the semi-darkness of the hospital room. She turned her head, finding Nicholas a lot closer than she thought, seated in the chair next to her. He reached out and touched her arm.
“Are you all right? You look pale.”
“I’m fine. Just a bit tired, I think.”
“You dozed off for a bit. I didn’t want to disturb your slumber. Will he sleep the rest of the night?”
Isabelle cast a quick glance at the monitors, noting the readings on the screen. The king’s levels were stable, though still above normal range. “Yes, the drugs will help to a certain degree.”
“Let me take you back to the palace so you can rest. Aidan will be here with father and if anything comes up, he’ll call.”
“I should stay.”
“No, you should go. He’ll need you fresh in the morning when he awakes.”
Nicholas had a point. Against her better judgment, she allowed Nicholas to escort her back to the palace, leaving Aidan at the hospital with Philippe.
Isabelle stared at the night sky outside the limousine. So many stars to make a wish upon, yet at the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to think of even one. “Let me take you home” Nicholas said. If only that’s what it was, instead of a temporary place to rest her head.
The limousine pulled to a stop outside the front door of the palace and Isabelle was out the door as soon as possible. “Thank you for the ride back.”
“You’re most welcome. But it is I who should be thanking you for your quick actions and response to my father’s emergency this afternoon.”
She shook her head, not wanting to accept the compliments. “I was just doing my job. Thank your brother; he was a big help in getting the IV line in place. He’s very good at what he does.”
“I wish to apologize to you for my lapse in judgment. It was never my intent to make you feel unwanted. My attraction to you was real, is real, but my people—”
Isabelle lifted her hand, her fingers landing gently on his mouth. She didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to think about it, and couldn’t handle the thought of Nicholas blaming it on the people. “Please don’t say anything. It’s better off forgotten.”
Nicholas reached out and placed his hand on her arm. “No, I need to tell you how sorry I am that things turned out this way. I never meant to cause you any pain.”
“No one forced me into your arms or your bed, I went willingly. It took two of us to create what happened. I’m a big girl, I can handle the fallout, but I think it’s best if we forget what happened while I was here. It’s better that way.”
“It won’t be that simple,” Nicholas said softly.
Isabelle lifted her hand and placed it tenderly on Nicholas’s cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. “I’m afraid it has to be. What we shared in the past is over. You’re a good man, Nicholas, and you’ll make a great king one day. I’m sorry things weren’t different. Maybe there would have been a chance, but your future is with your bri—” She shook her head, stumbling over the words. “Your future is with Marissa.”
Isabelle walked off down the hallway, eager to get to her suite before her self-control shattered. She knew what she was getting into from the start, all but the part about Nicholas having a bride-to-be in the wings.
She needed to get the heck away from Wellfleet Isle as soon as possible.
• • •
The next morning Isabelle was up and off to the hospital before the rest of the palace began to stir. If miracles could happen, they had for Philippe. A donor heart had become available and he would soon be prepped for surgery.
Isabelle was awaiting the arrival of Nicholas and Aiden before she headed into pre-op. She didn’t have to wait long before she saw Nicholas striding toward her down the hallway.
“When will the surgery commence?” he asked, all pleasantries pushed aside for the time being.
“I’ve got your father on the schedule for this morning. I see no reason not to move forward with the surgery. His vitals are stable and he’s alert. The donor organ will arrive here within the hour.”
“You will be in there every step of the way?”
“Yes, Doctor Ahmed and Doctor Madden will head up the team; I will scrub and stand by to assist as necessary and to oversee the surgery. While this is not the way I would prefer surgery to occur, we have no choice but to press forward.”
Nicholas nodded. “If father would have agreed sooner, it never would have gotten to this point. But it has and we must do what is necessary. I trust you will have someone keep me apprised as to what is going on?”
“Of course I will. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to see my patient.”
Nicholas trailed behind her as she headed for Philippe’s hospital room.
“Good morning, Philippe. We’re scheduled for eleven o’clock this morning so I’m afraid no breakfast or lunch today.”
“I don’t like the taste of hospital food anyway.” Philippe said, as Isabelle moved closer to the bed, lifted the covers and examined his legs.
“They’ll be doing tests on you this morning in preparation for the surgery. Once in the OR, you’ll be given general anesthesia. After surgery . . . ”
“Spare me the details, my dear. I would prefer not to know what you are going to do to me once I am in the OR. I’m sure it is not a pleasant surgery I am about to undergo, and as such, I have no wish to have every gruesome detail explained in depth.”
“If that is what you would prefer, then I will not discuss the surgery.” Isabelle would have preferred to explain every step rather than avoid any talk at all, but she would abide by Philippe’s wishes in the matter. There would enough time for conversation afterwards.
“When can I go home?”
“You will be taken to the ICU after surgery for about one to three days. After that, you’ll be moved to the Step Down ICU for another five to seven days. Then if all goes well, you can go home at that point. But you’re still looking at about three months before you’ll start feeling like yourself again as well.”
“The old normal or the new normal?”
“The new normal. You owe me that dance you promised, remember?”
Philippe’s eyes lit up and he smiled wanly. “That I do. Okay, when can we get this process moving?”
“The next time I see you will be in the operating room,” Isabelle told him.
• • •
Isabelle scrubbed up at the stainless steel sink and mentally ran through the surgery in her head. Pulling on the blue gown, she tied the bottom half of the mask across the back of her neck and headed into the operating room.
“Any last minute questions?” Isabelle looked down at Philippe on the operating table; a bevy of wires and tubes connected him to the machines necessary for the surgery.
“I’m holding you accountable for getting me through this.”
“You have my word, your highness. I’ll be right here for the whole thing.” She smiled at him, though her heart was pounding in her chest. He had to come through the surgery; otherwise Isabelle didn’t know what she’d do if she had to tell Nicholas any bad news.
Isabelle nodded to the anesthesiologist. “Close your eyes and rest now. I’ll see you later.”
She sent up a short prayer to the powers that be to keep the king safe and strong.
• • •
Nicholas paced back and forth across the waiting room until he felt as though he would go insane if someone didn’t come tell him something. He couldn’t sit, couldn’t focus on the television set broadcasting some inane talk show in the corner of the room, and couldn’t wait for someone to update them. A nurse had come out at various times letting them know everything was going as expected, his father was doing well and Doctor Tandori would be out as soon as the surgery was over to talk to them.
This was what he had trained for, to be in the operating room, not standing by idly waiting for someone to update him. All those years of classes, then residency, and not an ounce of it put to good use. Nicholas looked down at his hands, at the trembling fingers that performed more surgeries then he cared to count. But it had been a decade since he’s donned the surgical scrubs, washed up at the sink, and held a scalpel in his hand. He’d done it all to save people and look where it had gotten him. As far removed as possible from the operating room.
He’d just completed another lap of the private waiting room when Isabelle came through the doors, pulling her surgical cap from her head. Nicholas cut his steps short and hurried toward her, Aidan and Denton following in his wake.
• • •
“Tell me Father is all right?” Nicholas asked.
Isabelle nodded. “Philippe is stable and in recovery. The surgery went well, but as you know, the next twenty-four hours will be critical.”
“When can I see him?” Nicholas asked impatiently.
Isabelle turned and looked at the clock on the waiting room wall. “Minimum I would say is in another three hours. He’s still in Recovery at present. Why don’t you go get something to eat and then come back later in the evening. You look as though you could use a break.”
“Excuse me, Doctor Tandori, if the surgery is a success, how soon can he come home?” Denton asked.
“Once we know he is out of the woods, I would estimate a good ten days.” Isabelle knew how close the man was with the king, spending the better part of his life as the king’s aide and later personal nurse.
Aidan and Denton moved back toward the chairs in the waiting room, clearly relieved at the news.
“I appreciate that whatever your feelings are toward me, you didn’t allow them to cloud your judgment in your decision to perform surgery on my father.”
It was all Isabelle could do not to haul off and smack Nicholas for his callous remark. The stupid arrogant jerk. How dare he even begin to think she would compromise her standards because of him? She mentally counted to ten before answering.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Nicholas. I did what I had to do to save your father. You never entered my mind at any point before, during or after the surgery. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my patient.”
Isabelle started to walk back to the surgical lounge, but Nicholas gently grabbed her arm, pulling her to a halt. “Thank you. I owe you my life.”
She looked down at his hand on her arm and then shook her head. “No, your highness, you don’t owe me a thing. Not anymore.” Disengaging her arm from his, Isabelle walked away without looking back as the automatic doors to the surgical suite shut behind her.
• • •
The king leaned back against the pillows. “Will I live?”
Looping the stethoscope around her neck, Isabelle made a quick note on the medical chart and tried to hide her smile. “For quite a few more years as long as you follow doctor’s orders.”
“I suppose you’ll be heading back to the States now that my surgery is complete and I’m about to head home? Though I hope you won’t leave until I am once again ensconced in the palace.”
The words she wanted to say but couldn’t were stuck in her throat so Isabelle simply nodded.
“Are you going to tell Nicholas about the baby before you leave?”
Her head came up so fast the room spun before her, and Isabelle grabbed the edge of the chair for support. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do, my dear. Ten years ago, the night Nicholas left you and returned home to Wellfleet. You miscarried the child even though you were able to call for the paramedics.”
Isabelle sank down in the chair beside the bed for fear her legs would collapse from under her. How was it possible he knew? She turned her face from his, trying to hide the truth.
“How do you know about that? No one knows.”
The king took her hand in his. “There are a great many perks to being a royal. People will jump through hoops to do your bidding. Did you think we didn’t know about you and Nicholas living together?”
“We?” She whispered.
“Queen Julia and I. We had no secrets between us, save for one.”
“But I didn’t know about any of you,” she replied honestly. “I didn’t know until Nicholas came to Chicago to offer me the position here.”
King Philippe nodded. “Yes, that is true.”
“Are you going to tell him?” Isabelle changed tactics with the conversation, then gently placed her fingers on the king’s wrist, ready to take his pulse. She paused, waiting for his answer.
Philippe shrugged and seemed to contemplate her question before responding. “We all have our secrets to bear, don’t you agree?”
Isabelle looked at him oddly. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, as if seeing something she didn’t want him to.
“Sometimes, my dear, a secret is kept because the bearer feels it is the right thing to do under the circumstances. But the real question is, is it the right thing for whom? The one he’s trying to protect, or in reality, is he trying to protect his own self. Either one will most certainly change the final outcome.”
• • •
Nicholas leaned back against the wall in the corridor; out of sight should Isabelle come out of his father’s room and see him standing there. She miscarried their baby the same day he’d been called back to Wellfleet Isle when his mother passed away. The blood roared in his ears as he fought to stay upright. How dare she not tell him the news of her pregnancy. Nicholas had a right to know he would have been a father. A father to a baby that never had the opportunity to be born.
He wished he could see her face while she answered his father’s questions. To see if she were truthful. But deep in his heart Nicholas knew she wouldn’t lie about something so important. It wasn’t in her nature.
Quite possibly it was his fault that Isabelle miscarried? Possibly because of the way he left her standing there alone? Possibly because she had no one to turn to in times of need. And, as such, her miscarriage was the end result. The anger faded into the background as guilt ate at him, gnawing on his insides. He abandoned her when she needed him most. Nicholas didn’t want to think about Isabelle alone and vulnerable in their apartment, couldn’t envision the thoughts that went through her head as she waited for the paramedics. The fear she might lose their child and the realization when she did. Was it any wonder she hated him so much?
Nicholas waited until he was sure Isabelle had left the hospital and gone back to the palace before entering his father’s hospital room.
“Good news, my son. I am to be discharged tomorrow.”
“That’s wonderful, father. It’ll be good to have you home again.” His thoughts distracted, he missed what the king was saying until the words “assume the throne” caught Nicholas’s ear.
“I beg your pardon; would you repeat that last part?”
Philippe chuckled. “I said I’ll be stepping down at the end of this year and you will assume the crown. It’s been time for quite a while, but I hoped things would be different. Now that Aidan is here, everything will fall into place quite nicely. But I see something is bothering you.”
“It’s nothing, father. I’m sure it’ll all work itself out in the end.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then it wasn’t meant to be. As you say, duty must come first before family.”
King Philippe shook his head. “You know I believed that by allowing you to go to the States for your schooling it would somehow let you sow your wild oats, get the outrageous notion out of your head that you wanted to be a doctor, and you would come home happy with how your life was ordained for you.”
“You think that was why I went to Georgetown, to sow my wild oats. Like it was a precursor to coming back here, getting married, and running the country? Father, you are sadly mistaken.”
The king lifted his hand. “Please Nicholas, allow me to finish. I admit I was a fool in that respect. I see now you went there to further a career that meant the world to you. A career that was taken from you when circumstances changed here on the island. Maybe if I would have paid more attention to my family, listened to what they really wanted and needed, I wouldn’t have lost your mother.”
“What happened to her was not your fault.” Nicholas had never heard his father talk like this before.
“No, but maybe if I’d been more attentive to her needs, I would have seen there was a problem well in advance.”
“I don’t understand what that has to do with me,” Nicholas said.
“I’m talking about Doctor Tandori.”
Isabelle.
Nicholas’s stomach clenched at the way they parted. She’d barely said a dozen words to him since that day. It was as though she was avoiding his visits to the hospitals and made sure to be scarce whenever he was around. And at the palace she was no different.
“What are you going to do about her?”
“There isn’t anything to do about her. She’ll be leaving for the States within the next week.”
“May I offer a suggestion?” Philippe’s steely eyed stare was now firmly fixated on Nicholas.
“Of course, Father.” Right now, he’d listen to anything that might bring about a resolution to the situation. Though he doubted Isabelle felt the same way. Her intentions were clear in regard to how she felt about him.
“I suggest you run out that door, find the woman, and beg her forgiveness before it’s too late.”
Nicholas shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. Just a minute ago, you told me I had to step up to the plate and assume the role of king full-time because you were stepping down. Now you are telling me to go after Isabelle. What good is that if I can’t be with her? And she’s already made it clear she won’t be with me any other way. She won’t be my mistress.”
The king raised an eyebrow at Nicholas’s last statement. “You need to do whatever your heart is telling you to do. But I’m telling you not to let the best thing you’ve ever had slip away. Remember son, you are the future king and as such, you make the rules.”
• • •
If this were well and truly his life, then why couldn’t Nicholas live it as he saw fit?
Having her on Wellfleet Isle to care for his father had been his primary motive in the beginning. Later on it somehow morphed into a totally different reason altogether. He wanted her here because of himself. Nicholas wanted someone to spar with him when it came to decision making, not smile, nod, and agree. And with Isabelle, Nicholas was sure she wouldn’t concede any point without a fair fight. If truth be told, it was Isabelle he wanted by his side, to raise his children here, with her as their mother, take them to the same beach his mother had taken him and Aidan for picnics on the sand. Nicholas couldn’t think of anything else he wanted more in life.
He wanted her here because he loved her. He loved Isabelle from her bright pink painted toenails to the top of her curly auburn head.
Love.
He loved Isabelle as he had from the moment their eyes met and had never stopped loving her. Nothing changed in all that time, nothing except . . . everything.
What if . . .
Nicholas came to a screeching halt in the corridor outside his father’s hospital room, an idea firmly taking shape in his brain. As long as he did what was expected of his position, Nicholas would not disappoint his father. Nor would he disappoint the people of his country. And right now, both weighed heavily on his mind. Slamming his hand down on the railing, Nicholas bit back the string of curse words that rose combined with the pain in his palm.