The Surgeon and the Princess by Karin Baine (ebook reader with android os .TXT) 📕

disregard for common courtesy by failing, not only to leave, but to apologise. ‘By overexerting yourself you’re putting your body under more strain. You could be causing more damage. Surely you have some sort of exercise plan drawn up with a physiotherapist?’

His whole lack of manners and apparent knowledge of her circumstances disoriented her. If he knew who she was or had been taken by surprise by her injury he gave no indication of it. His focus remained on how she was potentially abusing her body. Perhaps he was who he purported to be after all. An expert.

‘To put your mind at ease, I completed my rehabilitation at a professional residential facility. I’m quite capable of continuing my recovery at home. On my own.’

‘Georgiana—I hope I can call you that—’ Mystery solved. He knew exactly who he was dealing with and presumably had some idea of how she’d come to be in this position.

He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘Recovery is an ongoing process best served by remaining in contact with medical professionals. It’s a guess but I suspect you haven’t attended any follow-up appointments since leaving the centre?’

The truth burned her skin. ‘Look, you obviously know who I am, so you’ll understand why I’m not keen on continuing my recovery in public. I’ve got everything I need here. I’m fine.’

He gave her gym equipment a cursory glance. ‘No offence but this looks like it’s been commissioned by an interior designer, not by anyone who knows what they’re doing.’

She should’ve been offended by the comment. He had absolutely no right to be in her private gym, much less mock it. However, she could see his point. It was the most expensive gym furniture on the market but she had wondered if it had been chosen primarily for decorative reasons. Rehabilitation wasn’t meant to be pretty, but the area that had been commandeered for her recovery had been set up before her return. She’d had no input and there had been no consultation with regard to her individual needs. Most likely because her mother didn’t trust her judgement over an outsider’s on the matter. As a result, she’d been greeted with a room befitting a princess with a gym habit rather than a wounded soldier.

The full-length mirrors she needed to watch her gait were gilded with golden frames. The walls were brilliant white, the floors bleached oak. Perfect for a glossy magazine photo shoot. While she enjoyed the anonymity provided by being in the farthest corner of the palace, it was stark with no natural light coming in. A window wouldn’t have gone amiss.

There was a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, dappling the plump, upholstered armchairs with teardrops of artificial light, but none of the aesthetics were of particular benefit to her. Although, the upside of the space here was that everyone knew to leave her alone. Except for the nosy doc who’d know for the next time he happened by.

‘I’m grateful my parents made the adjustments for me.’ That was diplomatic. She was thankful and she knew they wouldn’t hesitate to provide her with anything she might need. It was the atmosphere around the place, silent accusations and the air thick with recriminations, that was more difficult to live with. A matter that was no one’s business outside the family.

‘It’s fine for a normal home gym but you need specialised equipment. We have everything you’d need at our medical facility, including hydrotherapy pools.’ He was tempting her. With the pool idea, not his good looks and charm.

She’d used water a lot to strengthen her core during her rehabilitation and missed that feeling of weightlessness. Sometimes she even managed to forget the physical part of her that was missing when she was swimming, but it wasn’t as though she could tuck a towel under her arm and head to the local swimming baths any time she wanted.

‘It’s a very kind offer but, as I’ve told you, I want to keep my appearance and recovery private for now.’ Ed could see she was wavering. He hadn’t expected it would be an easy task to convince her to accept help, but he’d promised her mother he’d at least try. If there was the slightest opening in her defence, he was willing to take advantage of it for her own good.

‘We could arrange completely private sessions. You have my personal guarantee on that. If you decide you want to avail yourself of any of our other services, our physios or counsellors, that will be on a strictly confidential basis too. A lot of our clients are in the public eye, so we’re used to being discreet. It’s one of the reasons your mother came to me for her consultation.’ Along with his father putting his name forward when she contacted him for his valued opinion on her condition.

Apparently, she’d had an ulterior motive in having a home visit. The queen had been insistent she didn’t want Georgiana to know she was interfering but it was clear she was worried about her daughter. It wasn’t any of his business what was going on but there was a blatant lack of communication between mother and daughter. A parent should be able to demonstrate concern for a child without fear of losing them. It was the close bond he had with his own parents that had saved their family. Even if it sometimes felt as if he’d sacrificed his freedom to keep everyone together.

Meeting Georgiana himself, he could understand her mother’s reticence to be seen as interfering. She was a force to be reckoned with. Defensive and self-assured, and someone who could totally do this on her own if she had to. It simply made sense to use the services available to aid a faster recovery process. If only her body language didn’t scream, ‘Stay away from me if you value your life!’

Despite her obvious disability she still had that in-built alertness that came with being a soldier. One false move and he had no