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

heart lurched. ‘Who the hell...?’ No one had said they were stopping by tonight. Scanning back for anyone she might’ve told to make themselves at home, her memory came up blank. Yet it had to be someone who knew she left a spare key in the meter box. Didn’t it? It isn’t an uncommon hiding place. So, who was inside?

Parking next to the gleaming 4WD she didn’t recognise, she snatched her phone from the console and shoved out to take a photo of the number plate. Just in case. She’d probably look like a fool when she learned who’d called in but, still, a girl had to be careful, even in Queenstown.

Woof, woof. Shade’s ‘Happy you’re home, Mum’ bark. Or it could be her ‘I’ve smelt the pizza’ bark. She obviously wasn’t concerned about their visitor. Though any of her friends would’ve let Shade out of her run to go inside with them.

Crossing to her pet, she unlatched the wire gate and rubbed Shade’s head, more for her own comfort than Shade’s. ‘Hey, girl. Who’s visiting?’

Wag, wag, lick.

Some of the tension growing between her shoulder blades backed off. Whoever it was couldn’t be all bad. Shade was savvy about people, though she was susceptible to meaty bribes. ‘Come on inside. We’ve got someone to check out.’

A suitcase stood on the small porch near the back door and the key was still in the lock. A relieved sigh escaped Mallory. Woo-hoo. Typical Maisie. No warning, no checking if Mallory would be around for the weekend, her best friend would just fly in and hope for the best. She’d been promising a visit for weeks and after today, with their other close friend ending up in hospital, there couldn’t be a better time. Mallory picked up the pizza and headed inside, down the short hall, calling out, ‘Maisie, I hope you’ve brought the wine.’ There wasn’t any in her fridge, likewise much in the way of fresh food. ‘Hello? Maisie? That you?’

A cough came from the sitting room. A masculine cough.

Mallory crashed to a stop in the doorway and reached down to hold Shade’s collar with her free hand. A man was unfurling his long body from her couch, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Had he been asleep? Tough. More important was, ‘Who are you?’ she demanded through the pounding in her chest.

He stood tall, his woollen jersey half hitched up one side, the linen trousers creased and rumpled, dark hair falling into dark eyes. ‘Hello.’

Hello? That was it? Not likely. Her hand slipped from Shade’s collar as she stood tall and straight, eyeballing him directly. He had no right to be here, no matter what he might think. ‘What are you doing here? How did you find the key?’ she snapped.

‘Your brother told me where the key would be and to let myself in if you weren’t home. He said you’d be back sometime tonight.’

He looked such a relaxed mess, and sounded so genuine, that her unease backed off a notch, only to be replaced by anger. This is my house. Not once had she come home to find a stranger lounging on her couch like he had every right to make himself comfortable. If he was a villain, he wasn’t very good at it, lying around as though he had all the time in the world. Though why would someone with evil intent wait in the house with lights on and his vehicle parked in full view? ‘I said, who the hell are you?’ she snapped, using the anger to cover concerns about not having a clue what was going on.

‘Josue Bisset.’

She stared at him. The tension began cranking up tighter. The name meant nothing. Neither did anything he’d said so far make sense. She kept staring at him.

He finally got the idea. ‘The doctor about to start work at the local hospital where you’re based as a paramedic? I’m going to board in your house until I find an alternative for the short time I’m here?’ Doubt was creeping into his accent, and he glanced around the room. Was he looking for an escape route because it was dawning on him he’d screwed up?

He had. Big time. Continuing to watch him, Mallory drew herself even taller, all of one point six metres, and dug for a don’t fool with me attitude. It came easily. No one did this to her. Her home was her sanctuary, her safe space. ‘I don’t have a brother.’ With his stunned gaze now locked on her, she continued. ‘I am not taking in a boarder. And I’m a helicopter pilot, not a paramedic.’

Something foreign escaped from his mouth.

French? The accent sounded similar to that of the girl from Avignon who worked in the bakery she frequented. ‘You mind translating?’ she demanded, not ready to play nice. ‘Now?’

‘I’d better not,’ he said. He even smiled. ‘It wouldn’t translate politely.’ He wasn’t acting as though he might be on the back foot here and he damned well should be. He was still a stranger who’d walked into her house uninvited, despite what he believed to be a valid reason for doing so.

Beside her, Shade stood straight and firm, her head pointed at their intruder, her muscles tense. But she didn’t seem too wary of Josue, more like questioning what was going on. Mallory resisted the urge to pat her because she’d probably relax, and she still knew nothing about this man and why he was in her house. She waited.

‘Désolé. I thought I’d come to the right address. It’s been a long journey from Wellington, crossing over on the ferry and driving all the way down here today.’

That was a helluva distance. Still, ‘Don’t you use a GPS?’

‘I do, and it led me here. I was going to Kayla Johnson’s house. Do you know her?’

One of my closest friends. All the air whooshed out of her lungs. Three hours ago, she’d flown out in the rescue helicopter to pick up Kayla from beyond the Cardrona ski