Born A Hero. Paula Detmer Riggs

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      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 1

      Climbing out of the limousine, Dr. Katherine Remson decided she had stepped through the looking glass and followed Alice into Wonderland.

      A mere sixteen hours ago she’d received an urgent phone call from Dr. Gordon Hunter to report to Montebello to assist the medical staff in a crucial rescue mission. Now here she was, before the Royal Montebellan Hotel, delivered by one of King Marcus Sebastiani’s chauffeurs.

      Located on a spectacular beach on the leeward side of the city, the hotel was an impressive granite edifice of a dozen stories, the facade reminiscent of the turn of the century hotels in the world’s great cities during the Gilded Age. Prominently displayed over the entrance on a gleaming brass pole, the white-black-and-gold flag of Montebello hung limp in the humid night air.

      In the spacious foyer between two sets of large plateglass doors, airport-type security had been set up, and a short line had formed. Although the sharp-eyed men in the uniform of the Royal Montebellan Palace Guard were polite, even bantering with those waiting, the large pistols secured to trim waists were a grim reminder that evil in the form of senseless violence had come to the halcyon island kingdom.

      A bomb had gone off in a civilian square, destroying one building completely and trapping an unknown number of people inside. The whole city was in an uproar as rescue workers rushed to save them.

      Kate’s chauffeur, Arturo, a craggy, quietly imposing man in his forties, was clearly known to the guards, who, after a quiet word from him, allowed her to pass without having to wait in line.

      “My family is most grateful for your kindness, Doctor,” one of the guards told her quietly as the chauffeur escorted her past the X-ray equipment.

      “Paolo’s cousin Maximo is the chef at Leonardo’s, a restaurant in the building that was destroyed by the bomb,” Arturo murmured as they passed the concierge’s desk. “He has not yet been rescued.”

      “I am so sorry,” she said, her chest thick with emotion. During the flight, the young steward had told her of the shock and anger that had raced through Montebello at the news of the bombing. It wasn’t just an appalling tragedy to the majority of the city’s citizens, it was also an intensely personal one, since Montebello was a land of large and interconnecting families.

      As Arturo led her past a series of large marble pillars, she felt a sense of unease hanging over the opulent lobby like a pall, dulling the glittering marble-and-gilt surroundings like a thin layer of tarnish.

      The curved, marble reception desk was busy. Four dark-haired, dark-eyed female clerks in trim maroon blazers and gray skirts projected an air of efficiency and calm, but most of the people lined up at the desk were clearly anxious to check out.

      The chauffeur surveyed the situation with a slight frown before leading Kate to a spot next to one of the soaring marble pillars flanking the desk. “If you would be so kind as to wait here, Dr. Remson, I will facilitate your check-in.” Though he spoke perfect English, it was flavored with a charming Italian lilt that had been shared by everyone she’d met so far.

      “I don’t mind waiting in line,” she assured him, even as her tired body yearned for a soft bed and cool sheets.

      “Nevertheless, I will have a word with the hotel manager.” He set her bags at her feet before disappearing through a door behind the desk.

      Five minutes later she found herself in an elevator with both the chauffeur and the manager himself, a Signor Francetti, who reminded her of an older, stockier Robert De Niro.

      “This floor is reserved exclusively for foreign dignitaries and guests of the royal family,” he said as the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor.

      Kate caught her breath as she stepped into the spacious elevator atrium to find herself in what her tired brain wanted to call museum chic. Paintings in ornate gilt frames lined walls covered with what appeared to be authentic watered silk of palest ivory. Her brand-new sandals—little more than a couple of wispy ostrich-skin straps and a thin leather sole—sank a good inch into the pile of the rich maroon carpeting. With each step she took, she expected a security guard to rush out from the shadows to warn her not to touch the priceless old masters. The very air seemed rarified, scented, she guessed by a combination of citrus and rose petals.

      After they’d walked what seemed like a good quarter mile, the manager stopped in front of the second door from the end on the left. “We’ve put Dr. Hunter next door,” he said as he inserted the key card.

      “Dr. Hunter is here?” she questioned as he opened the door, then stepped back to allow her to precede him.

      Signor Francetti nodded. “He arrived late this afternoon and went directly to the hospital after checking in.”

      “I’m surprised he got here so quickly,” she said as she walked into the room. Four steps later, she stopped dead. Instead of a room, she’d been given a suite the likes of which she’d never seen outside of Architectural Digest, which her mother subscribed to.

      “This can’t all be for me,” she murmured, glancing around at the cozy living room-like setting. Through an open door to her left she saw a bedroom with a bed as large as her office in her clinic in San Francisco.

      “His Majesty is most grateful for your assistance,” Signor Francetti hastened to assure her. “He insists that you want for nothing while you are our guest. We have arranged to house Arturo in the hotel as well, so that he will be at your disposal. When you require his services, you have only to call down to the front desk.”

      “Oh, but I can take a cab—”

      “No, Doctor,” Arturo spoke up with surprising firmness. “You are too valuable to the people of Montebello to take that kind of risk.”

      Kate blinked. “Are you saying this bombing might not be an isolated incident?”

      The chauffeur shrugged. “If His Majesty’s sworn enemy, Sheik Ahmed Kamal of Tamir, is behind this, he will not stop until he has embroiled us all СКАЧАТЬ