The Royal Doctor's Bride. Jessica Matthews

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      “What’s up?” she asked calmly as she righted the plant.

      Bill paused from riffling through the papers on his desk. “I’ve been fired, that’s what.”

      It’s about time, she thought. “Really?” she asked, trying to sound horrified but certain she failed miserably. “Whatever for?”

      He waved aside her question. “The reasons don’t matter. The point is, I’ve given my all to this place, and this is how they repay me.”

      Privately, Gina wondered how a man who worked three, maybe four hours a day could claim “he’d given his all”, but it wasn’t her place to argue. Her goal now was to bring calm to a potentially unstable situation.

      “What happens now?” she asked, more concerned about the repercussions to their department rather than to Bill’s professional life.

      He waved furiously at the wall clock. “Who knows? I have thirty minutes to pack up and get out. Thirty minutes,” he ranted. “After ten years of unfailing service, struggling to operate on the shoestring budget they gave me…well, it’s unthinkable and insulting!” He grabbed his coffee-mug, then hefted it in his hand. In the next breath, he heaved it at the metal filing cabinet.

      Gina didn’t have time to dodge before the ceramic cup shattered into a hundred pieces. A sharp sting bit into her cheek and she instinctively touched her face. No real damage as far as she could tell. Although she was somewhat disconcerted because Bill had never injured anyone before during one of his tirades, the burden of restoring his reason clearly fell to her.

      She ignored the lingering discomfort and began in her most placating tone, “Now, Bill—”

      She didn’t get past his name before a tall, dark-haired man burst into the office, wearing an expensively tailored dark gray suit and a grim expression.

      “Throw one more thing and you’ll be flying through the air, too,” he snarled as he moved in front of her, effectively blocking her from her irate superior. In the next instant, he whipped out a snowy white handkerchief and pressed it into her hand. “You’d better take care of that, Gina.”

      Too curious about the scene unfolding, especially when two more men arrived who were more stocky and not quite as tall or as handsome, she didn’t ask how this stranger knew her name. She simply nodded and did as she was told.

      To her surprise, a large smear of blood—her blood—stained the expensive cotton square. Quickly, she pressed it to her cheek again, more curious about the drama than about her scratch, especiallywhen her rescuer approached Bill behind his desk.

      “You, Dr Nevins,” the authoritative man accused in a deep, stern voice, “have forfeited your right to collect your things. Leave the premises immediately.”

      Bill straightened to his full five feet five inches and his beady little eyes narrowed. “Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot do?”

      “I’m your replacement,” the fellow stated calmly and firmly. “Goodbye, Dr Nevins.”

      He raised one hand and in the blink of an eye the two men moved round the desk from opposite directions to grab Bill’s arms and lead him toward the door.

      “But I didn’t hurt her on purpose,” Bill screeched. “Tell him, Gina.”

      Everyone’s gaze landed on Gina. “Bill wouldn’t hurt me,” Gina responded. “Not intentionally.”

      Her handsome knight folded his arms and regarded her cooly. “A man with such an obvious lack of control can’t be trusted.”

      “You can’t do this,” Bill shouted. “I have thirty minutes left.”

      Bill’s replacement, with his regal bearing and handsomely aristocratic features, looked down his aquiline nose. “You now have none. Take him away.”

      “But my things,” Bill wailed over his shoulder as the two henchmen literally lifted him off the ground.

      “Dr Sutton will ship your personal possessions to you.” And with that, the two apparent security guards carried him out, kicking and screaming.

      Gina stared at the now empty doorway. “At the risk of sounding completely ridiculous, what just happened?”

      “Changing of the guard,” the man said as he stood in front of her. “Let me look at that.” Without waiting for her permission, he tipped her chin upward, pulled away the handkerchief and peered at her face.

      Strangely enough, an attack of self-consciousness swept over Gina. The most handsome man she’d seen in ages had burst into her department like an avenging angel and now was studying her face as if he’d never seen a scratch before.

      “It’s nothing,” she said inanely, extremely conscious of two things—his six-foot-plus frame, which made her feel petite at five foot eight, and a delightfully masculine scent that made her appreciate being a female.

      He pressed on her cheekbone and frowned. “You need a stitch.”

      “I don’t think so.”

      He raised both eyebrows, eyebrows framing chocolate brown eyes that were deep, dark pools. “Are you questioning my medical judgement?”

      “I believe so. Yes.”

      A huge grin spread across his face. The dazzling brilliance of his smile made him seem younger, more approachable, and less formidable.

      “At least you’re honest,” he said.

      “It’s the best policy,” she answered.

      “Have a seat,” he ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

      She might have obeyed, but it wasn’t in her nature to ignore the obvious. Because she weighed her problems more easily if she was busy, she carefully picked up the shattered remnants of Bill’s mug while she contemplated the sharp turn that the morning had taken.

      Bill was gone. While she took a few seconds to rejoice, she knew life in Belmont’s ER might not turn out better than it had been under Bill’s administration. Clearly, his successor—whoever he was—had a definite take-charge attitude. Once he’d plotted his course of action, he followed it, which was a good thing provided he based his decisions upon facts and logic. But if he didn’t, they would be in trouble, because she doubted if she’d be as successful at negotiating with him as she had been with Bill.

      No matter. She’d learned the art of persuasion at a young age and had developed it fully as she had taken care of her father near the end of his too-short life. She hadn’t met a man yet who came close to Arthur John Sutton in stubbornness.

      With any luck, however, the new ED Director would be more reasonable than Bill, although after watching him mercilessly throw Bill out of the department, she hoped he didn’t normally manage his subordinates with the same dictatorial style.

      “I see you’re a person who doesn’t follow orders,” he said behind her a minute later.

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