Royal Seduction (18 page)

“It is.” Dr. Hall looked over Riley's shoulder, waving to the reporter and letting her know he'd be with her shortly. Then he turned his attention back to Riley.

“I've already looked in on your patient.” Dr. Hall draped a congratulatory arm around Riley's shoulder and drew him to a private corner that afforded some privacy. “That is one amazing story. Is it true you used an ink pen to release the pressure in his chest cavity?”

“Spur-of-the-moment thinking.” Riley shrugged as he offered the excuse.

Dr. Hall laughed. “Good work. I guess you know the guy's doing well.”

“Yes, and I'm happy to hear it.”

“Listen, Riley,” Dr. Hall said as he took a step backward, his tone lowering, “I've been kicking myself ever since I let Graham steal you away from me and plant you over there in the clinic. You belong here.”

Riley went still. He'd like nothing better than to return to practicing emergency medicine. But he didn't want to get his hopes up.

“Your talent is being wasted over there at the Healthy Living Clinic.”

There had been a time not too long ago when Riley would have agreed. But in that instant, Riley thought of Catherine, remembered how she'd made him understand that, even though he wasn't treating trauma patients or
dealing with emergencies that required swift and competent solutions, he
had
helped the people over at the clinic who had come seeking better, healthier lifestyles.

Riley felt the need to say, “There's some good work going on over there, Dr. Hall.”

“I'm sure there is. And from what I hear, you've done a great job of getting things back on track.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But with all that said, would you be willing to come work for me? You'd be an asset to the ER team. I'll get you over here really quick. All you have to do is say the word. Would you be willing?”

“Willing? Are you kidding? Working over here is what I wanted all along.” A job in Portland General's ER would fulfill a dream for him. “But I'm afraid Graham might balk at your moving his chess pieces before he's ready.”

“Doesn't matter,” Dr. Hall said. “That pedestal he's created for himself is getting shaky, if you know what I mean. He's abused his position for a long time now. His reign is nearly over.”

Riley didn't think it proper to ask any further questions. But he had no reason to doubt Dr. Hall's word. The man was well-respected—much more so than David Graham—and he was known to be part of the inner circle of those who ran the hospital. Besides that, he'd been practicing at the hospital for over twenty-five years and had an impeccable reputation.

Dr. Hall's tone lowered. “I want you to know that the administrators are aware of how Dr. Graham misled you. We know why he put you over there.”

“What do you mean?”

Dr. Hall looked mildly surprised. “He was looking for a scapegoat should scandal hit the clinic. But we wouldn't have let you take the fall, Riley,” Dr. Hall told him. “We've
been watching, monitoring. We also know about how Graham's been treating Dr. Lassen. How he's withheld what she's been due for a long time.”

Riley frowned, feeling as though he was in some kind of war zone and being hit from all sides. It was nothing but pure irritability that had him asking, “So why is Dr. Graham's behavior being tolerated? I don't understand.”

“It isn't easy to oust the hospital's director.” A tiny smile quirked Dr. Hall's mouth. “We're giving him rope.”

And allowing the man to hang himself. The unspoken words were clear.

Riley nodded in understanding.

“I heard that Graham persuaded you to go over to the clinic by holding your past over your head.”

Riley refused to break eye contact with the man. Riley was confident in his medical proficiency. He deserved to be respected for that alone. Still, he couldn't deny the self-consciousness stalking him.

“As black marks go, Riley,” Dr. Hall continued, “the one you've got in your past is quite small. I don't want you thinking it's going to keep you from getting ahead here. You're going to have a successful career. Because you deserve it. You're a talented doctor. That's all that matters.”

Riley felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Dr. Jacobs.”

Riley turned to face the nurse who had hailed him.

“There's someone asking for you,” she said. “I told her she couldn't come back here. That she'd have to wait in the lobby.”

“It's probably that reporter,” Dr. Hall said. “She's thought of more questions for you. Tell her I'll be right out, too. I have to make a quick call first.”

As Riley headed down the hall, he realized he didn't feel up to answering any more questions. He should be feeling good. He'd soon be working in his dream job. He'd be part of the ER team. But his steps were heavy and he felt as if he was enveloped in a cloud, gray and bleak.

He glanced at his watch. It was late. Surely Catherine was at the airport by now. Soon she'd be boarding a plane that would fly her back to Lextanya.

It was for the best, he realized, turning the corner and pushing open the door that would take him to the waiting room. He only regretted that Catherine would never know that the flames that had blazed between them last night hadn't been fueled by anything except the desire they felt for each other.

Riley lifted his gaze, expecting to see the reporter. But he didn't. It was Catherine who stood there waiting. And although he knew her being here was probably the worst thing for her, he couldn't deny the pure pleasure that permeated his being, soul-deep.

C
atherine's insides felt all quivery. Seeing Riley made her feel both wonderful and dreadful. Wonderful, because she'd come to some very significant realizations about him, about her life. Dreadful, because she knew there was nothing she could say that would earn his forgiveness for what she'd done.

“Shouldn't you be at the airport?” he asked.

There was no anger in his voice, and she was grateful for that. But she had the sudden worry that he'd grown apathetic. Could he have become indifferent to her so quickly?

The question only amplified her apprehension.

“I'm not going home.” She moistened her dry lips and hoped she could keep her anguished tears at bay until she was able to explain. If he even let her explain.

Catherine wrung her hands. “Can we talk?”

“Come on.” His hand on her arm was gentle as he led her toward the pneumatic doors of the lobby. “Let's take a walk. I've been cooped up in the hospital for hours.”

The cool breeze blew from the west.

“You chilly?” he asked.

“I'll be all right.”

He slid his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. The warm scent of him clung to the fabric, and Catherine breathed it in.

“I couldn't go, Riley. I couldn't leave with things so messed up. I needed to talk to you. I needed to apologize.”

He groaned, stopping right there on the sidewalk and turning her to face him. “Let's not do this.”

“But I have to,” she insisted. “I don't want you thinking I'm that kind of person. Someone who does anything to get what she wants. I'm no manipulator, Riley. I don't lie, I don't cheat and I don't behave recklessly.” Upon thinking about it, she decided to add, “Normally I don't, anyway.”

His mouth twitched, and she realized he was curbing a smile. Was he so impassive toward her that he could actually laugh at her distress? Fear welled up in her, but she tamped it down. She'd come here to speak her mind and she intended to do just that.

“I want you to know that it's all your fault,” she blurted.

The accusation wiped all trace of a smile off his handsome face.

“That's not what I meant,” she hurried to say. “Or rather that's not
exactly
what I meant.” She paused long enough to swallow, and then she tried again. “It's because of you— It's because I
met
you that—” Frustration set in. “You made me do things—”

This wasn't coming out right at all.

Just say the words,
a firm voice in her head commanded.

“Riley, I think I love you.” She squared her shoulders. “No. There's no thinking about it. I know I love you.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled, his shoulders rounding.

Trepidation lumped in her throat. He was taking this as if it were terrible news. And why shouldn't he, after what she'd done?

“Come on.” He sounded hoarse as he took her hand and started off down the street again.

They walked a full block in silence. She could feel a gloominess fairly pulsating off him. Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer. He'd been quiet for too, too long.

“Riley, I understand your being unable to forgive me. But I never would have done something like that unless—”

“It's not that.”

“You're not upset about last night? You forgive me?”

She forced him to stop. She needed him to look at her. His eyes would tell her the truth.

His dark gaze was steady and sincere. She detected not a wisp of anger in him. Catherine sighed with relief, her breath leaving her in a grateful rush. She pressed the flat of her hand to the base of her throat. “I can't tell you how relieved I am. But if you're not angry with me, what's wrong? You look so unhappy.”

She suspected it was habit alone that had him glancing down the empty street before stepping off the curb to cross.

“I am unhappy,” he admitted. “It's because I…”

The rest of his sentence faded. Frantic to know what he was thinking, she urged, “Because you what?”

“Here.” His grasp on her hand unwittingly firmed as they stepped up onto the sidewalk. “Let's sit down for a minute.”

The bench was illuminated by the soft yellow glow of a streetlamp. The spot was a stop on the city bus route, but the buses had finished running for the night.

“Catherine,” Riley slowly began, “I have never met a woman quite like you. You've made an incredible impact on my life. And in such a short time.”

He paused, and she got the impression that he, too, felt frustrated.

“There's more I want to say—” his mouth flattened for a second and he shook his head “—but I don't think I should.”

“Of course, you should,” she softly but urgently insisted.

After a moment of hesitation, he continued, “I'm surprised by how much I— You've come to mean a lot— I really think that I—”

Catherine felt breathless. “Riley, are you trying to tell me that you feel the same way I do? That you love me, too?”

He nodded, but he looked too damned sad.

She settled farther back on the bench with a heavy sigh. “Realizing we're in love should be a wonderful thing, yet both of us are depressed. I can understand you feeling that way after what I've done. And besides that, no one in his right mind would want to get mixed up with me and my crazy family, or my chaotic way of life with all its outrageous rules and regulations.”

“It's not that,” he said. “It's not that at all.”

“Then what?” She was confused.

He leaned away from her a fraction. “Let's just say that I wouldn't be welcomed by your family.”

“Your not being an aristocrat will be hard for my father to swallow, I'll admit.” Her thoughts started churning. “I
could call my cousin. Max would help me to convince Father—” A sudden idea rose in her head, bright as dawn. “Max's wife isn't a noble. He met her right here in Portland. I don't know why I didn't think of this before. The King, himself, set a new standard by marrying the woman he loved. I certainly should be able to do the same, don't you think?”

But the expression on Riley's face took the wind out of her sails.

“It's not because I'm a regular Joe, Catherine.”

“That's why I love you. Because you are a regular Joe.” She smiled and tried to draw closer to him, but he held her from him.

“You don't understand.”

“Then make me understand, Riley.”

He fell silent for so long that she began to worry. But she forced herself to wait until he was ready.

“I have a record, Catherine. A criminal record.”

She sat still, uncertain about how to respond.

“I was young,” he continued, “and stupid. Seventeen and desperate to find a way to get some kind of response out of my father. It took years of court-ordered counseling for me to unearth that little gold nugget. Dad was a workaholic with two jobs. He spent so many hours away from home during the years I was growing up that I don't have a single memory of us doing anything together. Of course, I had my mother. But she'd been raised with three sisters and she didn't have any idea what to do with a boisterous boy.

“By the time I hit my teens, I was angry and rebellious. I got in with the wrong crowd and started stealing. Not that I needed the things I took. At the time, I thought I was looking for a thrill. But later my counselor made me understand
that the fact that I was so blatantly obvious about breaking the law only meant that I wanted to get caught. And I believe that to be the truth. I wanted to force my father to come to the police station. And that's just what happened.”

Riley sighed. “Petty theft is what I was convicted of. I didn't do any actual time. The judge insisted I be tried as an adult. He sentenced me with a hefty fine and three hundred hours of community service, plus counseling.”

Catherine could keep silent no longer. “How did your father react?”

Shrugging, Riley said, “He didn't say much of anything. He just paid the fine and went back to work.”

“Oh, Riley. I'm sorry.” It seemed that parents could damage their children so easily. And they probably didn't even realize what they were doing.

“My father and I were able to reach an understanding,” Riley said softly. “Just a few months after my court appearance, Dad came home early from work. I was there but Mom was out.” Almost to himself, he added, “For the life of me, I can't remember where she'd gone. Anyway, Dad told me he wasn't feeling well. He was pale, sweaty and seemed to have trouble breathing. Then he got worse. When he complained of chest pains, I helped him to the car and drove him to Portland General.”

The moment turned tense. Catherine watched as Riley smoothed his palms up and down his thighs.

“The doctors revived Dad,” he continued. “But something happened. There was something about Dad. It was like…he knew. He knew his time had come. I was sick to my stomach seeing him lying there so helpless. As angry as I'd been at him, I'd have done anything to keep him from dying.

“He caught my eye and in that one, silent moment, he
expressed years and years of unspoken sentiment. He loved me. I could see it as plain as day. And he regretted bitterly all the years we'd missed together.”

He shook his head, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Now, the message that was received could have all been due to the hopeful dreams of a desperate teenager, but I choose to think differently. My father realized he'd made a mistake, and he wanted me to know it, too.”

“Your father died?”

He nodded, reclining against the back of the bench. “He had a second heart attack and it took his life. But not before he whispered a message. ‘Make me proud, Riley,' he said.”

Moist emotion glittered in Riley's gaze. Catherine reached out and slipped her hand under his biceps, scooting over to hug his arm tightly.

“Those four little words changed my life, Catherine. Dad's request turned me around. And I was so amazed by the doctors in the ER who worked on my father.” His head shook in wonder. “They inspired me. I wanted to become a doctor. I wanted to help people, to give them more time to live.” His voice became raspy as he added, “More time to love.”

Tears rolled down Catherine's face.

The soles of Riley's shoes scuffed against the sidewalk. “After Dad died, I started studying hard. It was difficult because I'd been such a slacker up to that point. But I had the help of a dedicated counselor, and several of my teachers became mentors, too. I was accepted into college. My criminal record nearly kept me out of med school, but I went to see the judge who had sentenced me, and asked him for a letter of recommendation. That was what clinched it for me, I think.”

Catherine couldn't help but murmur, “You're sure it wasn't the sheer determination on your part?”

Riley smiled. “Could have been. I was determined to become a doctor. To practice emergency medicine.” His voice was raw as he added, “To make my dad proud.”

“It's an honorable motivation, Riley. I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time about your attitude on working in the clinic.”

“Don't apologize,” he told her. “How were you to know that I'd been forced into taking the job?”

“You might not have wanted to be there, but the clinic is thriving,” she commented.

“I can only take minimal credit for what's happening in the clinic. Faye is the top dog over there. Or she should be, anyway.”

“She does work hard.”

Riley smiled, and Catherine was relieved that the conversation had moved on to a less distressing topic.

“I'm pretty sure she's going to get a promotion.”

“Oh?”

“I'm leaving the clinic. I've been offered a position in the ER.”

She gave his arm a squeeze. “Congratulations, Riley. I'm so happy for you.”

“It's strange. I should be happy, too.”

She pulled back and looked up into his face. “You're not?”

“I wasn't unhappy when the offer was made,” he said. “But something was missing.”

His gaze was on her then, intense with concentrated emotion.

“I've figured out that the something was you.”

Her only thought was to kiss him. But when she leaned in, he tenderly captured her jaw between his fingers.

“This won't work.” Regret clouded his gaze. “You don't want to disappoint your father. You don't want your family's name splashed all over the tabloids by marrying beneath you.”

“‘Beneath me'? That sounds horrible. You don't honestly believe that, do you?”

His smile was sad. “I don't, no. But your father would never accept a son-in-law with a criminal record.”

“I don't see how he can complain,” she quipped, “since his own daughter has one, too.” The utter surprise on his handsome face made her chuckle.

“I told you I was a lonely, wretched teenager,” she explained. “I was overweight and had few friends. Well, I was approached by a group of popular girls who promised to make me a member of their club. However, I had to fulfill a dare. I was caught red-handed. Literally. The policeman walked right up to me while I was spray painting the club insignia. I had the paint can in hand, wet red paint running to my elbow.” She screwed up her nose. “The nozzle got stuck.

“Father was livid,” she continued. “I've never seen him so angry. An article had just run in the newspaper suggesting corruption in our judiciary system. Father felt he had no recourse but to hold a special counsel, which he presided over. The place was packed, reporters everywhere. I was only sixteen. And talk about mortified.”

She shook her head. She could laugh about it now, but at the time it had been a nightmare.

“Father sentenced me to five hundred hours of volunteer service.”