From Doctor To Princess?

He’s her reluctant patient...

But might she soon be his royal fiancée?

Dr. Nell Maitland escaped her unpleasant former boss to become private physician to Dr. Hugo DeLeon—who’s also a crown prince! But doctors make the worst patients—especially when they’re as distractingly handsome as Hugo. When her past catches up with her, Nell must fake an engagement with the prince who makes her heart pound! Might she become his princess for real?

Cursed with a poor sense of direction and a propensity to read, ANNIE CLAYDON spent much of her childhood lost in books. A degree in English Literature followed by a career in computing didn’t lead directly to her perfect job—writing romance for Mills & Boon—but she has no regrets in taking the scenic route. She lives in London: a city where getting lost can be a joy.

Also by Annie Claydon

Discovering Dr Riley

The Doctor’s Diamond Proposal

English Rose for the Sicilian Doc

Saving Baby Amy

Forbidden Night with the Duke

Healed by the Single Dad Doc

Stranded in His Arms miniseries

Rescued by Dr Rafe

Saved by the Single Dad

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

From Doctor To Princess?

Annie Claydon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07521-3

FROM DOCTOR TO PRINCESS?

© 2018 Annie Claydon

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

THE LEATHER CAR seat creaked slightly as Crown Prince Hugo DeLeon shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. There wasn’t one. He’d only been out of the hospital for twenty-four hours, and the pain in his left shoulder was normal. It would subside in a day or so, and he knew that impatience wasn’t going to make him heal any faster.

All the same, he was impatient. And if his father thought that he was helping Hugo to get back to normal, then he wasn’t.

There wasn’t a great deal of choice in the matter, though. The King of Montarino was accustomed to being obeyed, and when he had visited his only son in the discreet private ward of the hospital, he’d made it clear that he was taking no arguments. He’d smiled at Hugo, in much the same way as any father would, and told him that his duty to his country was clear and very simple. He had to get better.

In order to make sure that his son’s recovery went smoothly, the King had recruited a doctor who would stay with him at all times over the next month or so. Hugo had still been drowsy from the anaesthetic and his back hurt from having lain still while the pacemaker had been inserted into his chest, but he had got the message. His father didn’t trust Hugo to look after himself, and so he was appointing a minder to do it.

He hadn’t told Hugo much about this minder, other than that she was a woman, eminently qualified, and that she was due to fly out from London today. The last detail was another smart move on his father’s part, because Hugo knew most of the doctors in the small principality of Montarino, particularly those who were well qualified in cardiology. He might well have been able to wriggle out of the arrangement with any one of them, but this woman was an unknown quantity.

He wondered briefly whether she’d come equipped with tranquillisers and physical restraints. And, more to the point, whether she’d been briefed about the requirement for discretion. Hugo assumed that she had, because discretion was one of the codes that his family lived by, and his father never let anyone forget it.

‘That’ll be her...’ His bodyguard sat in the front seat of the car, and had the advantage of an unobscured view. Hugo squinted through the tinted windows, and saw the chauffeur walking across the forecourt towards the airport’s short-stay car park. Beside him was a young woman with mid-brown hair and a supple sway to her walk, which made the short hairs at the back of Hugo’s neck prickle slightly.

Probably another one of his father’s carefully reasoned choices. Hugo had to admit that he wasn’t known for saying no to beautiful women, but unusually the King had misjudged the situation this time. A career woman, particularly a doctor, wasn’t someone that he could contemplate giving any part of his heart to.

‘She doesn’t look too formidable.’ Ted spoke in English, turning slightly in his seat to display the hint of a smile.

‘I wouldn’t bank on looks. She’s managed to keep hold of her suitcase, and I imagine that Jean-Pierre did everything he could to wrestle it away from her.’ Hugo turned the corners of his mouth down. The first thing his father’s chauffeur would have done was to try to relieve their guest of her luggage and wheel her suitcase for her.

‘I must be getting slow, I missed that.’ Ted had done nothing of the sort; he just hadn’t seen fit to mention it. In the five years that he’d been with Hugo, since his retirement from the British police force, the two men had learned to read each other’s thoughts and trust what they saw. It had been Ted who had happened to mention that he’d heard that the doctor was being picked up from the airport this morning, and Hugo had made the expected decision to go with the car to greet her. Sizing her up before anyone else at the palace got the chance to speak with her couldn’t be a bad thing.

Ted got out of the car, walking to the rear passenger door and opening it. For all the world as if he were according Hugo the respect his position required, rather than helping him with the weight of the door. Hugo climbed out of the car, ignoring the tingle of pain that reached from his chest down his left arm.

Now that she was closer, Dr Penelope Maitland didn’t seem as formidable as her old-fashioned name might lead one to suppose. She was all curves and movement, looking almost girlish in a tan jacket over a cream summer dress, creased from travelling. Her light brown hair glinted in the sunshine, and bare, tanned legs gave her the fresh, outdoorsy look of someone going on holiday.

Maybe the gorgeous Dr Penelope was a rare mistake on his father’s part. This woman looked as if she was more likely to spend her time here enjoying the pleasures of Montarino, not nagging him about his health. When her honey-coloured gaze met his, there was a spark of recognition and she smiled. A carefree kind of smile that sent tingles down his spine and allowed Hugo to believe that she didn’t have it in her to make his life difficult.

Then she stopped in front of him, letting go of her suitcase long enough for Jean-Pierre to grab it and wheel it around to the boot of the car. ‘I’m Dr Maitland. I’m told that I shouldn’t curtsey.’

Her voice was like honey but her tone was like steel. Clearly Dr Penelope wasn’t going to be quite as much of a walkover as her appearance suggested.

‘Thank you. I’d prefer it if you didn’t.’ Hugo held out his right hand, glad that the pacemaker was on the left side of his chest, and didn’t hamper the movement of his right arm. Her grip was as firm as her tone. ‘Welcome to Montarino. I’m Hugo DeLeon.’

‘Yes, I know.’ She shot him a questioning look, and Hugo wondered whether she was going to rebuke him for coming to meet her. He mumbled the usual invitation to call him Hugo, wondering if he’d get to call her Penelope. The name seemed suddenly as if it would taste sweet on his lips.

‘Please call me Nell...’

Hugo smiled his acquiescence. Nell sounded soft and sweet too, even if it was a little shorter.

‘You must be tired from your journey. We should be going...’ Hugo’s discreet gesture to Jean-Pierre prompted him to get into the car.

She raised one eyebrow. ‘Yes, we should be going. I’m surprised to see you out and about so soon.’

Her words had an edge to them. If anyone should be feeling tired she clearly expected that it should be him, and Hugo had to admit that he was surprised at the effort involved in making a simple car journey.

‘I’m grateful for the fresh air.’

At the moment, the fresh air was making his head spin. Hugo stood back from the open door of the car and she hesitated and then got in, sliding quickly across the back seat before Hugo could even think about closing the car door and walking around to get in on the other side.

All the same, he welcomed the move. On this side, the seat belt wouldn’t need to rest painfully on his left shoulder. Hugo got into the car, and Ted closed the door before he could reach for it.

‘Have you been to Montarino before?’ Hugo had years of practice with small talk.

‘No.’ Nell shook her head, regarding him thoughtfully.

‘It’s very small, only eight miles across, but very beautiful. We have one city, half a mountain and, although we have no coastline, there are some beautiful lakes.’

‘That’s nice. I’ll have to come back sometime when I’m not working. I probably won’t have much time to see them this time around.’ Her mouth was set in a firm line, and Hugo’s heart sank. Clearly there was no hope of deflecting the redoubtable Dr Penelope from her intended purpose.

* * *

Four days ago, Nell Maitland had ridden home on the night bus, after the farewell party that her colleagues at the hospital had thrown for her. It had been the ultimate failure, after months of trying to work things out with the cardiac unit’s new head of the department, and save the job that she loved so much. And now...

She was riding in a chauffeur-driven car, sitting next to a prince. It was an object lesson in how dramatically things could change in so little time.

‘I gather you have a strong tradition of attracting the best musicians.’ She smiled in response to Hugo DeLeon’s indication of the Montarino Opera House, and the car obligingly slowed to allow her a more detailed look.

‘We like to think that we can hold our own with the rest of Europe when it comes to our appreciation of the arts. You do know a little about Montarino, then?’

Anyone could use the Internet. Although Nell had to admit that the photographs didn’t do the grand building justice. Its sweeping, modern lines, rising from the tree-lined plaza that surrounded it, would have made it a landmark in the greatest of cities.

‘Only as much as I could read in the last couple of days. In between packing.’ Nell wondered whether he’d mind that she hadn’t even known where Montarino was before she’d taken this job. It had just been a name, tethered somewhere at the back of her mind, along with a lot of other places that she knew nothing about.

Hugo nodded, smiling. ‘That’s one of the best things about living here. Most people have few preconceptions, and so we have the chance to attempt to surprise our visitors.’

And it seemed that Hugo DeLeon was giving it his best shot. Nell had been told that he was a doctor as well as a prince, and that her advice would be a matter of reinforcing a message that he was already well aware of. In other words, he reckoned that the physical limits that applied to ordinary people weren’t for the likes of a prince, and he needed to be kept in check.

Nell had no idea in which direction they were supposed to be going, but she was aware that the car seemed to be taking a circuitous route past a number of notable buildings, all of which Hugo was intent on pointing out. If he thought that was going to deflect her from her purpose, he was wrong.

‘I’m looking forward to seeing the palace.’ She smiled brightly, wondering whether he’d take the hint.

‘We’re nearly there now.’ Hugo raised his voice a little. ‘Jean-Pierre...’

The driver nodded, turning smoothly onto a wide, straight boulevard and putting his foot on the gas. It seemed that everyone here responded to Hugo’s every word, which was the first challenge attached to this new appointment.

The ambassador, who had interviewed her at the embassy in London, had said little but implied a lot. He’d got her medical qualifications and the fact that she spoke French tolerably well out of the way in the first five minutes. Then he’d turned the conversation around to her patient.

‘Hugo DeLeon, Crown Prince of Montarino, can be...’ The ambassador had paused slightly before coming to a conclusion about how to describe it. ‘He can be self-willed.’

Nell had read arrogant into his words and had smiled politely. She had experience of dealing with all kinds of patients, and self-willed wasn’t a problem. Neither was arrogant.

What the ambassador hadn’t warned her about was his smile. It was polite, appropriate, and yet it seemed to hold real warmth. His high cheekbones lent a touch of class, and his shock of dark blonde hair, no doubt artfully arranged to make it appear slightly tousled, added a boyish note. Green eyes gave a hint that Hugo DeLeon was capable of some pretty serious mischief. Nell would have to watch out for those eyes.

But however handsome he was, however his smile made her stomach quiver, Nell had a job to do. Her fingers tightened on the strap of her handbag, which lay comfortingly across her knees. A man had gotten between her and her job before, and no one, not even this handsome prince, was going to do it again.

* * *

White knuckles. Hugo was used to looking for the little signs that told him what people were really thinking, and he’d noticed that Nell was clutching her handbag on her lap like some kind of defensive weapon. Despite the firm tone and the clear hints that he shouldn’t have come to the airport, there was a chink in her armour. One that he may well need to find and exploit if it turned out that the restrictions she placed on him got in the way of his current plans.

They’d driven through the grounds of the palace and the car stopped at the ceremonial entrance to allow them to get out. She gave the high, pillared archways a glance and then turned to him as the car moved smoothly away.

‘My luggage...’

‘Jean-Pierre will arrange for it to be taken up to your apartment.’ A sudden flare of panic had shown in Nell’s eyes, and Hugo almost felt sorry for her. But keeping her a little off-balance, a little over-awed was exactly what he wanted.

‘Right. Thank you.’

‘Perhaps I can show you around.’ The palace was big enough and grand enough to disorientate her even further.

‘I think that’s best left for some other time.’ She was as sweet-smelling and soft as a summer’s day, but there was no getting over the determination behind it all. ‘This...apartment. I was told that it would be next door to yours.’

‘Yes, it is.’ If Hugo had had any say in the matter, he’d have put her on the other side of the building, but he hadn’t. His father didn’t often step into his life, but when he did, he did it thoroughly.

‘With a connecting door?’

So someone had told her about that, too. Or maybe she’d asked. Hugo had rather hoped that he could just keep the connecting door closed and that it would never occur to anyone to open it.

‘Yes, that’s right. It’s generally kept locked...’ Finding the key was an easy enough matter on the rare occasions that he brought a girlfriend with him to stay at the palace for a few days, but he was sure he could just as easily lose it.

‘I imagine someone has the key. Being a doctor yourself, you’ll understand the need to have access to your patient.’

‘And I’m sure you’ll understand where your duties begin and end.’ Since the pleasantries didn’t seem to be working all that well, it was obviously time to make things clear.

‘The ambassador outlined them, yes.’ She pressed her lips together and Hugo imagined that the British Ambassador had deployed all of the expected diplomacy in the matter. ‘The King’s letter of appointment, on the other hand, was a little less circumspect.’

Great. So his father had decided that he needed to weigh in on that as well. And even if the tiny quiver at the side of Nell’s mouth told Hugo that she was feeling over-awed and nervous, her cool gaze indicated that she wasn’t going to let that stop her from doing her job.

‘Perhaps we should talk, over some tea.’ Since deflection wasn’t working, maybe negotiation would. The next step would be outright battle, and Hugo would prefer to avoid that.

‘Yes. I think that would be a very good idea.’

CHAPTER TWO

HUGO HAD OPENED the door that concealed the lift, and when she’d seen the old-fashioned gates, she’d slipped in front of him, heaving them to one side. Part of him was grateful, but a greater part decreed that as a gentleman, and her host, he should have been quicker in insisting he open the gates himself. When he motioned her ahead of him into the lift, she hovered annoyingly next to the gates, giving him no opportunity to open them when they reached the third floor.

He showed her to her apartment, leaving her alone to freshen up. That would give him at least three quarters of an hour to rest before he had to submit to another onslaught from her.

Hugo sank gratefully into the chair in his private sitting room and closed his eyes. This morning he had woken feeling invigorated, and it had only been the pain in his shoulder that had reminded him he was unable to move mountains. Wide awake, his body feeling the immediate benefit of a heart that was now paced and doing its job properly, he’d jumped at the chance of getting out of the constriction of four walls, but it had worn him out. His own advice to pacemaker patients—that they might start to feel better almost immediately but must rest and get over the operation first—would be given with a lot more certainty in the future.

Fifteen minutes later, a quiet knock sounded on the main door to the apartment and he shouted to whoever it was to come in, keeping his eyes closed. If someone was here to make the tea or fuss over him, then he’d rather they waited until he was strong enough to smilingly refuse their help.

‘How are you feeling?’ Nell’s voice made his eyes snap open.

‘Fine. Thank you.’ Hugo’s eye’s darted to the clock above the mantelpiece. Surely he hadn’t been asleep...

Apparently not. She was pink-cheeked, as if she’d just got out of the shower, and Nell had changed out of her travelling clothes and into a slim pair of dark blue trousers with a white shirt, open at the neck and buttoned at the cuffs. She looked businesslike and entirely delicious.

He shifted, wishing that the ache in his left shoulder would go away, and Nell stepped forward. Without any warning at all, she caught up one of the cushions from the sofa and bent over him.

Her scent was... It was just soap. The soap that was placed in all the guest bathrooms at the palace. But Nell made it smell intoxicating. The brush of her hair, one soft curl against his cheek, almost paralysed him.

‘Is that a little better?’ She’d placed the cushion carefully under his left arm so that it supported his shoulder.

‘Yes. A lot better, thank you.’

Nell nodded, looking around the room as if she’d mislaid something. ‘Does your apartment have a kitchen? Or do you have to send out for tea?’

‘The kitchen’s through there.’ The desire to stay where he was battled with a strong disinclination to have her make tea for him. Hugo shifted, ready for the effort of standing up, and she reached forward, her hand on his right shoulder.

‘I didn’t go to all the trouble of arranging cushions for you to spoil it all by making the tea. Stay there.’ Her voice was kindly but firm. It occurred to Hugo that if he didn’t feel so tired he might have delighted in having Nell be kind and firm with him all afternoon, and then he reminded himself that business and pleasure was a very bad mix.

He heard her clattering around in the kitchen and closed his eyes. Listening to Nell was almost as good as watching her, because he could still see her in his mind’s eye. That was another thing that was going to have to stop.

* * *

Nell found a set of mugs in the kitchen cupboard. It was a surprise, since she’d expected that a prince would drink only out of bone china, but a good one. She’d been up very early this morning and could definitely do with a decent-sized cup of tea.

She looked in the cupboard for biscuits and found a packet of chocolate digestives. Things were definitely looking up. Next to them was a packet of painkillers, wrapped around with a piece of paper with a typed chart, each dose ticked off neatly. Hugo had taken this morning’s tablets but was past due for the lunchtime ones.

He was clearly overdoing things. And her letter of appointment had spelled out exactly what she was supposed to do in response to that likely eventuality. She had to make sure that he took the rest he needed.

She put the tea things on a tray and walked quietly into the sitting room. Large and filled with light, the furniture was stylish but comfortable, allowing the baroque fireplace and the gilded mirror above it to take precedence. Hugo seemed to be dozing, but when she put the tray down, moving a small side table next to his chair, he opened his eyes.