CHAPTER TWO

EVEN CLIMBING STAIRS automatically became some kind of competition between Emilia and Dom. They just couldn’t help themselves. Emilia had to run to keep up with the way Dom’s long legs could easily take two steps at a time and, despite still wearing her theatre scrubs, she was a little out of breath and overheated by the time they reached the top floor of Seattle General. Even so, the idea of going outside onto the roof space seemed ill-advised but Dom was definitely heading for the doors that led to the helipad.

‘Are you crazy? It’s single figure temperatures out there. The ice from this morning hasn’t even melted yet.’

‘It’s okay.’ Dom had already opened the door to let in a blast of freezing air. He was also wearing scrubs but didn’t seem at all perturbed. ‘Trust me.’

The wind chill factor felt like it was taking the temperature unpleasantly close to zero but, if Dom could handle it, Emilia wasn’t about to start whining. She was familiar with this part of the roof space, having been with the trauma team on occasion, meeting critically ill patients coming in by helicopter but Dom was striding past the helipad and around the structures that housed the elevator mechanisms even though they could have provided some shelter from the biting wind.

Emilia wrapped her arms around her body, wondering how far they were going on this vast roof space but then she was totally distracted by the spectacular views she hadn’t known were available up here on this side of the roof. In one direction, the dramatic mound of Mount Rainier could be seen, and in another, the distinctive tip of the Space Needle stood out amongst the high-rise buildings of the city centre. The waters of Elliot Bay had tendrils of mist that made the islands look dark and mysterious and beyond them, the impressive range of the Olympic mountains had snow and glacier-capped peaks that were touching the heavy, grey clouds.

The gorgeous landscapes of Seattle had attracted Emilia to work here just as much as the prestigious position she’d won as head of the orthopaedic department in this hospital and, already, the Olympic National Park at the foot of that mountain range had become her favourite place in the world.

A sunrise or sunset from this vantage point would be something to see. Romantic, even, if it wasn’t so incredibly cold. Except...to her astonishment, Emilia could now feel the caress of warm air. A few steps more and she was surrounded in the warmth that was coming from the cluster of huge bent funnels that had to be vents for the hospital’s central heating system. The noise from the system was enough for the need to raise your voice to be heard by someone standing right next to you which probably guaranteed that nobody else would hear what was said. She found herself giving Dom a surprised glance. Had he come here before to know of such a private place to have a conversation? If so, why? How much did she really know about Domenico di Rossi?

With its usual efficiency, her brain rapidly scrambled to supply the information she had available, the collection of which had begun well over ten years ago, at medical school. With his tall, dark, Mediterranean looks, Dom had been, without doubt, not only the best looking male in her class but with the faint but cute Italian accent to his perfect English she could see that most of the women around her were instantly distracted.

Emilia hadn’t been about to let herself be distracted, however. It was nothing short of a miracle that she had this opportunity to follow her dream of becoming a doctor and she owed it to the person who had believed in her and made this possible to make sure she gave it her very best shot. So she’d ignored the handsome Dom, right until the day that his name had appeared above hers at the top of the list of class marks in an anatomy test. Emilia had adjusted her view of Dom at that point. She wasn’t going to ignore him now. She was going to rise to the challenge he presented and do whatever it took to stop him beating her again. He couldn’t have known the gift of motivation he’d provided but it got her through the tough patches when she was feeling unbearably lonely and out of place so, even though she steadfastly refused to allow any kind of personal relationship with Dom, and they went their separate ways after medical school, she hadn’t been about to forget him, either. She could, in fact, probably remember every test or exam in which he’d scored a higher mark than herself but apart from that, she didn’t know very much, did she?

His first words were also about something she knew nothing about.

‘Have you ever heard of a country called Isola Verde?’ he asked.

She shook her head.

‘It means “green island” in Italian. It’s an island nation in the Mediterranean. Independent. Has its own government and royal family who can be traced back to sometime in the twelfth century.’

Emilia couldn’t think why Dom was telling her this but his expression was deadly serious. This was important. She remembered that the paramedic had said that her patient spoke both Italian and English. So did Dom, for that matter. She refocussed on what he was saying.

‘So it’s like Monaco? In France?’

‘Monaco’s a principality, which has a ruler or a prince, rather than a kingdom that has a king or queen, but, yes, there’s a similar structure.’

Emilia was getting used to hearing Dom’s words through the background noise of the vents. ‘And this kingdom of Isola Verde has something to do with Roberto Baresi?’

Dom gave a single nod. ‘He’s the King. The girl that came in with him is his daughter, Princess Giada.’

Emilia’s jaw dropped. ‘I was operating on a king? And nobody told me?’

Dom’s gaze was steady. ‘Would it have made any difference to the care you gave him?’

‘No, of course not.

‘But why is he here? If they’re here on a state visit or something, why don’t they have some sort of protection team? And media coverage?’

‘It’s a private visit. Arrangements had been made for him to have surgery away from his own country. There’s a new hospital that’s just opened in Isola Verde but I think he thought it would be too much pressure for the staff to handle treating their own monarch. Plus, his diagnosis may not be as serious as it seems and he would prefer to reveal it after the surgery has been successful.’

‘Surgery for what, exactly?’

‘A brain tumour. The expert opinion is that it’s not malignant and that surgery should provide a complete cure but we won’t know for sure until it’s removed and it’s in a difficult spot which is why someone as highly respected in the field as Max Granger has been engaged as the surgeon.’

Emilia was starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together. ‘So that’s why he got flown in so fast. I thought it was a bit over the top for a possible head injury from an accident. The injury could be significant, then, yes?’

‘Yes.’ Dom’s tone was grim. ‘It’s a bit of a catastrophe really. We’ll have to wait and see if it’s even possible to go ahead with the original surgery that was scheduled for December.’

‘How far away?’

‘The fifteenth.’

‘I’ll have to keep that in mind while we’re watching progress on the leg injury.’ Focussed again on her patient, Emilia brushed aside the question of how and why Dom knew so much about this.

‘Thanks for telling me,’ she said. ‘I can imagine why it needs to be kept under wraps and I can understand why you couldn’t say anything earlier with so many people around in the ER. It’s not as if we had time to do a CT of his head when it was paramount to repair that artery in his leg.’

Maybe they were both thinking of that leg wound and how hard it had been to get control of the bleeding.

‘Something else you should probably know,’ Dom told her, ‘is that the man who was doing the haemorrhage control is the King’s bodyguard, Logan Connors, who used to be an army doctor. Or was the King’s bodyguard. He’s about to leave that position because he has, coincidentally, landed a job here in the ER. He’ll be starting on the first of December.’

‘Oh...so that’s how you knew who they all were?’

Dom looked uncomfortable now. ‘Not exactly.’

That question of how Dom knew so much about this reappeared in Emilia’s head because it was obvious that Dom hadn’t told her everything. Okay, maybe he’d recognised the bodyguard so he knew who the patient was, but that didn’t explain why he’d been rattled enough to seem incapable of taking control.

‘How do you know so much about this King?’ she asked slowly. ‘How did you recognise his daughter the moment they came in?’

She could see Dom’s hesitation. The way he took time to swallow as if it was difficult. Significant.

‘Because she’s my sister.’

‘What?’ It made no sense.

‘Roberto Baresi is our father.’

Emilia actually shook her head. ‘But your surname’s Di Rossi, not Baresi.’

‘I go by my mother’s maiden name. I didn’t want my background known when I came to study and work in America. I didn’t want special treatment or media attention. I wanted to be like everyone else. Like you, Emmy... Being able to work hard and achieve my dream of becoming a doctor.’

Emilia’s head was spinning. ‘Wait... You’re telling me that you’re the son of a king? That would make you a...a prince?’

He was holding her gaze again and she could see the absolute honesty in his eyes. ‘Yes.’

A single word but one that suddenly opened a gulf between them that was wider than any ocean. He was nothing like her. They were suddenly so far apart that they could have come from different planets. He was a prince. Part of a royal family that could be traced back for centuries and she was a girl who hadn’t even known who her father was and had had to be taken away from her mother’s damaging lifestyle. He was a man who’d always had a privileged lifestyle and a future to look forward to, whereas she’d been a girl who’d been labelled wild enough to get shunted from foster home to foster home, becoming more and more lost until someone—that amazing teacher she’d had in the eleventh grade—had finally believed in her enough to let her dream of a different future.

So she’d been bang on the mark in thinking she didn’t know very much about Dom, hadn’t she? It was, in fact, so much of an understatement that it should have laughable. But it wasn’t. This wasn’t remotely funny. Emilia couldn’t quite identify the swirl of emotion that she could feel building inside her head—and her heart—but it wasn’t pleasant. And it was powerful enough to be preventing any speech right now. Having opened her mouth and then closed it again, she had to give in and wait for the initial shock, or whatever it was that was paralysing her, to wear off.

Emilia looked stunned, as Dom had known she would be but there was more to see in those wide, blue eyes. She looked...hurt, dammit—as if he’d delivered a personal blow. Because he had never trusted her enough to share his secret?

But why would he? They’d never been that close. It wasn’t that he’d never found her attractive, mind you. Quite the opposite. He’d recognised the potential for not only distraction but destruction as well. He couldn’t afford to fall in love with anyone because that might have led to complications that involved publicity and an early end to his career and Dom had no intention of letting that happen.

It had been so much easier to keep any liaisons with women, sexual or otherwise, on a strictly casual basis. And to keep them infrequent and as discreet as possible, of course. It didn’t matter that he became labelled as something of a playboy and perennial bachelor because, if it came out later—and it most likely would—it wouldn’t be a damaging scandal for the royal house of Isola Verde. He was never unkind, either, and perhaps that intent not to hurt anybody had also been a reason to steer well clear of Emilia Featherstone as anything more than his biggest academic rival.

But had he ended up hurting her anyway? It would appear so, given that she seemed to be struggling to find something to say and the silence was startlingly obvious, even with the background noise of those air vents. Dom was already feeling the weight of guilt today so he might as well add a bit more to the burden but he didn’t like this. Not at all. He’d said that she deserved to know the truth. Maybe she deserved something a bit more personal as an explanation?

‘I didn’t tell you back then,’ he said. ‘I didn’t tell anyone.’

She was just staring at him. Not saying anything. The wind teased a tress of her bright auburn hair out of its clasp but she didn’t bother pushing it off her face. Oddly, Dom had to stifle an urge to do that himself. Instead, he chose to release words that came straight from his heart.

‘I wanted a chance to be me,’ he told Emilia. ‘The person I am in here.’ His fingers clenched into a fist as he thumped the left side of his chest twice. ‘As a man. As the doctor I’d always dreamed of being.’

He took a deep breath, surprising himself by how shaky it felt. ‘Not as Crown Prince,’ he added, his words gathering more emotion. ‘On borrowed time and knowing that one day I was going to have to give up a career that means everything to me and take over ruling a country just because of where I happened to be born. Even if...’ He had to suck in another breath. ‘Even if it’s the last thing I really want to do.’

The expression on Emilia’s face was changing. A frown line was appearing between her eyes. He might have hoped for her understanding, at least, after that very personal revelation. Sympathy, even. But no. Surprisingly, the way she was looking at him now suggested that she was...angry?

‘You lied to me,’ she said.

‘How?’

‘By not telling me the truth.’

‘Nobody knew the truth. How long do you think I would have lasted if it had come out? I would have been hounded by the media until I was driven home again. I needed to be safe to achieve what I wanted so much and keeping it a secret was the only way.’

‘So you’re saying you’ve never told anyone, in all these years? That no one here knows who you are and that no one from your country knows where you are?’

‘Not exactly,’ Dom admitted. ‘I haven’t been home for many years but my sister’s been to visit me more than once. And Lucas Beaufort knows... We found we had something in common with...um...some family issues.’

Emilia’s breath came out in a dismissive huff. ‘Family issues? You have no idea what family issues really are. People kept secrets from me all my life and, as far I’m concerned, they’re just as bad as outright lies. They damage people. They damage lives.’

Oh, man...she wasn’t just angry about this, was she? Emilia was furious.

‘You know what?’ She didn’t wait for a response. ‘I don’t care that you’re a damn prince. I respected you for what I thought you were—as that man and that doctor you wanted so much to be—but not now...’ Emilia paused to gulp in a breath. ‘I don’t respect anybody who lies to me. I hate dishonesty...’

She turned away, her arms tightly wrapped around her body. ‘Don’t worry,’ she added, with a bitter note in her voice. ‘Your secret is safe. I’m not going to tell anyone about you. I don’t even want to talk to you, let alone about you.’

And, with that, she was gone. A petite, furious figure striding across this vast roof space. Turning the corner to head for the helipad and then back into the warmth and shelter of the hospital buildings. Which was exactly where Dom needed to go. There might be news of his father by now that he could pass on to Giada. He might have just ruined one of his closer professional relationships but he had his family to care for and that had to take priority. And yet, his feet refused to start moving just yet. He looked up at the sullen sky above him as he took several, slow, deep breaths to try and clear his head enough to centre himself.

Part of his brain was reluctant to let go of that last image of Emilia, vanishing behind the tops of the nearest elevators. There was something nagging at him that he couldn’t quite pin down. Curiosity, perhaps, about why she was so angry with him. They hadn’t known each other well enough for her to be that offended that he’d kept a secret from her, surely? It wasn’t as if she’d ever told him anything personal about her own life. And maybe that was what he wanted to think about—that reference to people keeping secrets from her? Damaging her life? He wanted to know more about that. No...it felt like he needed to know more about that.

Except that there were other things he had to think about right now that were a lot more pressing. Dom knew it was way past time that he stepped up to do his duty. He’d had a lot longer than he’d hoped for when his father gave him permission to go to an American medical school. He’d hoped to graduate and at least have a few years to practise medicine but he’d had a good ten years to do the job he loved and he’d achieved an expertise and position that had been above any expectations.

And he’d always known that this day would come. That the shackles of his birth right would pull him back to the gilded cage that his childhood had been. He could feel them tightening already as the chains that bound him to his country were being hauled in. Dom was used to pressure. In the early years of his studies it had been to succeed. A wry smile touched his lips as he remembered how, at medical school, that pressure had included trying to beat Emilia Featherstone. The pressure of running a busy ER was something else again but it was something that Dom thrived on. This pressure, however, of facing up to becoming King, felt like a weight that threatened to bury him.

But that couldn’t happen.

It wasn’t going to happen because Dom knew what was expected of him by people that he loved and he wasn’t about to let them down. One of those people was in danger right now and that was where Dom needed to be. He had to protect his father as much as he could. He had to support his little sister who must be extremely anxious at the moment. The driver, Giorgio, no doubt also needed some reassurance from him, even if he had been uninjured, and Logan was about to become a colleague instead of one of his father’s employees. Dom had to check to see if there was anything he could be doing to make sure everyone was okay.

He certainly couldn’t stay out here on the roof any longer, that was for sure. He felt cold now. And very, very alone...

Emilia did an online search on Isola Verde as soon as she got home. Of course she did. The events of the day had taken on an almost dreamlike quality, despite the reality of her post-operative visit to Roberto Baresi and seeing the discreet security that was now positioned as close as possible to where he was being cared for in the most private space available in the intensive care unit. At least Dom hadn’t been there at the same time because she was still furious with him. It might be impossible to avoid seeing him again but she really, really didn’t want to talk to him.

And maybe she was searching for details on the island kingdom she’d never heard of because she wanted to justify that anger. To confirm that they came from such totally different worlds it was a relief that she’d avoided any kind of personal relationship. The fact that they were colleagues was extraordinary enough on its own. That they had that competitive bond and were familiar enough with each other for the teasing and, okay, sometimes bordering on insulting banter, to feel completely normal was enough to make Emilia cringe, now. How could he do that? To pretend he was a normal person? To pretend that he was trustworthy when he’d been living a lie the whole time?

He’d said he hadn’t been home for many years. Why not? The images and text that Emilia had in front of her told her that he’d been brought up in paradise. The ‘green island’, surrounded by the astonishing blue water of the Mediterranean Sea, was well named for its fertile land that produced olive oil, tomatoes, lemons and the grapes that were used for award winning wines. The old town, that dated back to the eleventh or twelfth century had narrow, cobbled streets and colourful market places but there was a modern city as well where a new hospital, that the country was obviously very proud of, had been built.

There were gorgeous gardens on the top of a hill in the old city that surrounded a palace built of white stone and marble and the photos that Emilia was staring at suggested that it was always reflecting endless sunshine. The images and impressions were piling up, one on the other. She could almost taste those fat, red tomatoes, and the bright lemons were actually making her mouth water. She could feel the warmth of the sunshine and smell the flowers in those gardens and imagine what it would be like to swim in that blue, silky sea and it felt like Isola Verde was the most perfect place on earth.

The place where Domenico di Rossi had grown up.

No. The place where Domenico Baresi was the Crown Prince. Unimaginably wealthy. Unbelievably privileged. And he’d wanted her to feel sorry for him? An incredulous huff escaped Emilia’s throat and she slammed down the lid of her laptop but, moments later, she was bewildered by the sting behind her eyes that she remembered from long, long ago. Tears were gathering, although they would never be shed because she didn’t cry any more.

From fury to feeling so sad? What on earth was this about? Emilia hadn’t felt such a rollercoaster of emotion for as long as she could remember. Anger had always been her ‘go-to’ release for dealing with anything difficult, though, hadn’t it? Even when that had got her into so much trouble in the past. Her running away, shouting and breaking things had more than likely been responsible for those endless punishments. For waiting outside those Social Services offices while discussions were taking place about what on earth they were going to do with such a difficult, unruly child.

But it hadn’t stopped her hitting back at a world that had promised so much but never delivered. Not until that amazing teacher had somehow recognised her intelligence and had shifted her focus onto studying, along with teaching her that there were ways other than anger to escape something unbearable.

If she’d known there were places on earth like Isola Verde in those days, Emilia might have dreamed of being there. Maybe that was what was making her feel so inexplicably sad now. That longing to be living, or even just visiting, somewhere so perfect felt a lot like that longing to be loved that she’d lived with throughout all those difficult years. And that was something else that made Dom so different from her. He had a family. People who loved him. He had everything, didn’t he?

So why was Emilia feeling haunted by that look in his eyes when he’d told her that going back to his own country to be a prince was the last thing he really wanted to do? And why was it, when her anger had faded enough for her to remember that look, she felt that there was still a connection between them?

That, maybe, it was even stronger than before?