Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“I’m incredibly handsome with a beard.” He turns to kiss my palm. “I’ll grow one for you. By this time next week, you won’t be able to resist me.”
“I’m not even going to try,” I murmur, leaning in to rest my forehead against his, but kissing him doesn’t feel right. Not here, with death still too close for comfort. “He has to be okay.”
“We can’t be sure it’s him.”
“Yes, we can,” I whisper.
“I don’t know what I’m sure of anymore. Since the day I followed you up to that cabin…” His warm fingers wrap gently around the back of my neck. “Nothing makes sense, but, in another way, everything does. Finally.”
That’s it, I have to kiss him.
I angle my head, but before my lips meet his, a voice calls from somewhere down the hall. “Is she still here? The donor?”
“Exam three,” another voice calls out.
I pull away from Jeffrey as a woman in a doctor’s coat, with short, salt-and-pepper hair, steps through the door. “Hello, there. Hope I’m not interrupting,” she says. Her brown eyes are bright behind her glasses, and a smile curves her lips.
“No, not at all,” I say. “Is everything okay with the donation?”
Her expression sobers. “Yes, it’s wonderful, thank you. He’s receiving the first unit now, and vitals are already improving. If all goes well, we should see a huge improvement in a few hours. His wife signed a waiver, by the way. She’s aware there wasn’t time to test the blood for the usual viruses and that the nurse said the donor had recently been ill.”
Traitor, I think, a thought that must show on my face because the doctor lifts a hand. “The nurse just wanted my professional opinion before we moved forward. But you were right—this is his best chance. Aside from the injuries related to the crash, the patient is in excellent physical condition. If we can get him stable, he should be strong enough to fight off a possible infection. Even if that O blood on order from Pearson gets here by morning, it’ll be too late, and it wouldn’t be an exact match anyway. B negative is rare in this part of Europe.”
Her smile twitches at the edges. “So rare that I had to come chat with you. I’m a bit of a history buff. I did my dissertation on royal blood types and inherited diseases in noble families of Gallantia and Rinderland. I was going to tell you that there’s an excellent chance you’re related to the Rindish royal family, but…” She laughs again and motions to my face. “But you obviously know that. So nice to meet you, Princess. You’re…Sabrina?”
“Elizabeth.” My stomach tightens, and dread creeps up my throat, my body putting the pieces together before my mind can work through the logical steps. But my mind catches up pretty quickly. “So does that mean the man upstairs…”
“Probably a relation,” she confirms, clearly delighted.
My eyes go wide. “Distant cousin, maybe? Very distant?”
She shrugs. “I can’t say. You’d have to trace your family trees to be sure, but the blood type runs in the royal family. So does madness.” She winces. “Sorry, no offense. It was part of my dissertation. Trying to parse whether mental illness was genetically inherited, a side effect of too much money and power, or both.”
“Fascinating.” My throat is still so tight it’s hard to get words out. “And the patient, his name is Rafe?”
“I can’t answer that. Privacy concerns,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “Did someone on staff share a name with you?”
I shake my head. “No, he’s a friend. I knew he was going to be in the area with his wife and that they’ve just had a baby so…I made an educated guess.” I press my fist into my chest, where my heart is thumping fitfully.
Rafe and I are related.
And Rafe and I spent years doing everything but having penetrative sex. We absolutely had all the other kinds of sex.
Which means…
“I think I’m going to be ill,” I murmur, glancing over at Jeffrey, who’s…smiling. “Why are you smiling?” I demand. “This isn’t funny.”
“It kind of is,” he says, chuckling an infuriating chuckle.
“No, it’s not.” My hands ball into fists. “Not even a little bit.”
“You wouldn’t be the first royal to have a romantic relationship with a relative,” he says, his stupid eyes crinkling at the edges as if accidentally committed incest is the funniest thing he’s heard in ages.
“Oh, I see.” The doctor chuckles. “He’s absolutely right. And it’s not like either of you suspected. I mean, it’s not like he’s the nanny’s son, right?”
“The cook.” I groan, my hands flying to cover my face as I shake my head. “Oh God, if my father… I’ll kill him!”
Jeffrey rests a hand on my knee. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Call your father first, explain what’s happening. Hopefully he’ll give you some honest answers.”