One Summer At The Beach: Pleasured by the Secret Millionaire / Not-So-Perfect Princess / Wedding at Pelican Beach. Melissa McClone

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Rhys worked alongside Melissa and Simon to make Katie comfortable. Grateful it was a team from his own hospital. He’d figured it would be. They were in his catchment area. Hadn’t allowed himself to even think of Sienna until now—needing to focus entirely on stabilising the situation. Needing to keep control of his own careering emotions. He always struggled when it was a younger patient. He always saw Theo’s eyes—the unmistakable plea for help, the light fading. This time he could help. This time it would be OK. But his heart still thundered and he kept the sweats at bay with a level of self-command that had taken some years to perfect.

      He knew his control would be even more precarious if he stopped to think about what Sienna was making of it all. He’d been about to make a clean breast of it. Unable to hold back from her, wanting her to know the truth because he couldn’t stand it any more, he had needed to fix it. It had been such a stupid idea in the first place—making up a new name, a different job—and yet, he couldn’t wholly regret it.

      But, damn, she’d just found out only half the truth in the most unfortunate way. He finally braved a glance her way. Saw her white face. Saw the furious hurt in her eyes.

      He looked away again super quick. He wasn’t free from his duty yet and until he was he couldn’t work on Sienna.

      He heard Melissa talking to the mother.

      ‘Don’t worry. She’s in great hands.’

      Rhys flashed a silencing look but Melissa was in full reassurance mode, taking the woman’s arm and leading her to the open doors of the ambulance, her high tones carrying halfway across the park. ‘Your daughter was lucky to have the city’s best ER doctor on a walk in the park today. Dr Rhys is brilliant. She’s going to be just fine.’

      ‘OK, Melissa.’ Shut up. ‘Load up, we need to get to the hospital.’

      ‘We can handle it from here if you want, Rhys. You don’t need to come with us.’

      ‘Of course I do. I need to clean up and do the paperwork anyway.’

      He’d never leave a patient. He looked around again before stepping into the back of the ambulance. Wanting to at least offer a smile, call that he’d see her back at the hostel. Knowing it wasn’t enough, but better than nothing. He scanned the crowd.

      She was already gone.

CHAPTER NINE

      RHYS’ hands itched. He hadn’t got back to the hostel for hours—waylaid by people at the hospital who had seemed to think he’d fallen off the face of the earth because he hadn’t been at work 24/7 as usual. Regardless that he was supposed to be having a holiday. They had seemed stunned that he actually had. Teased that he still couldn’t keep away—not even a full week. If they’d only stopped talking to him he’d have been out of there a lot sooner. For once he hadn’t wanted to be there a second longer than necessary.

      There’d been no sign of Sienna when he’d got back to his room. Her stuff had vanished. She hadn’t appeared the rest of the afternoon or evening. He’d patrolled the place, but hadn’t dared enter the dorm room in the middle of the night—imagining all too well the scandalous headlines that might cause. So now, the next day, he was in for the sit and wait. He could hardly raise a polite response to Curtis’ idle chat. But no way was he leaving Reception until he’d seen her. Desperate to explain. Determined to get her over that anger. Disproportionately upset that she was mad at him.

      He sighed in frustration. Why should it matter? She was his holiday fling. She’d be out of here in just a few days. But it mattered an awful lot. How the hell could he make it right? He’d been such a fool. He glanced at her day pack parked next to him on the sofa.

      Anxiety ate at him. Where the hell was she? He didn’t know if she was on meds. After an op like that a patient was usually on drugs long-term. Had she missed them? He unzipped the bag, needing to check.

      A fabric-covered book was at the top. He knew what it was. He concentrated fiercely on his integrity. He’d been enough of a jerk. Not going to be tempted. Not going to pry into her personal thoughts. Much as part of him would love to. Purely to understand.

      But as he lifted the journal to look underneath for any medicine packets, a piece of paper fluttered from it to the floor and as he picked it up his eyes automatically scanned it. Computed it. Sealed it in his brain. And acidic disappointment flooded his entire body.

      It wasn’t until after two p.m. that she appeared. Flanked by the inevitable army of girls from the hostel. She saw him as soon as she walked into Reception. Her eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed redder than they already were. She looked hot and bothered. Well, she wasn’t nearly as bothered as him.

      ‘Had a good day?’ He managed to grate the words out, leaping to his feet and intercepting her.

      ‘I don’t think I’m talking to you. In fact, I don’t think I even know your name—do I?’

      ‘Rhys. My name is Rhys.’

      ‘Rhys Monroe?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘And are you a builder, Rhys?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Naughty, naughty Rhys,’ Mistress South Africa said.

      He ignored her. Held up the day pack in front of Sienna. ‘Want this back?’

      Her eyes flashed fire. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Then come with me now and I’ll give it to you.’

      ‘You can give it to me here.’

      ‘No. I’ll give it to you once we’ve sat down and talked about this like adults.’

      ‘I really don’t see that we have that much to say. You lied. End of story.’

      He studied her. Wanting to throw his own accusations but conscious of the greedy interest of the others, conscious of how tired she looked. She seemed to have got thinner overnight. ‘I’m walking out of here right now. If you want this back, you’re coming with me.’

      He wanted away from all the observers. He wanted just him and her again. He knew she’d come. Hell, if nothing else, he had her medication—and her passport.

      She said nothing. Just turned and marched ahead of him. Waited on the footpath outside for him to point out the direction. Despite his own fury he couldn’t stop the grudging smile inside. What would she do if he told her how beautiful she looked when she was mad?