The Physician to the King, The Casteloria Royals: A Royal Sweethearts Romance Novel, #2

By Kristy K. James

From the author of the popular Coach's Boys series comes Book 2 in The Casteloria Royals Trilogy

Running isn't always the answer…
When a tragedy rocks Abigail Keane's world, she only wants three things. To run as far from what happened as fast as she can. To reevaluate her life and the choices she's made. To spend time with the nephew she hasn't seen in over year. What she didn't plan on was butting heads with a doctor who rubs her wrong from day one.

It's going to be a long summer…
When a pretentious headmistress arrives in Casteloria, Nolan Campbell can't help but hope she cuts her vacation plans short. In fact, nothing would make him happier than to see her on the next plane leaving the island. But when a dark, heartbreaking secret comes to light, he begins to see the real woman hiding beneath the icy facade. Can he help her heal without risking his heart in the process?

Filled with romance, intrigue, secrets, and danger, The Casteloria Royals is a series you can't help but fall in love with. Each story is complete with no cliffhanger endings.

Originally published as A Cool Summer in Paradise

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kristy K. James
• Release date: Sep 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781386524274

Kristy K. James

Kristy K. James' first goal in life was to work in law enforcement, until the night she called the police to check out a scary noise in her yard.Realizing that she might someday have to investigate scary noises in yards just as dark as hers if she continued on that path, she turned to her other favorite love...writing.Since then her days have been filled with being a mom and reluctant zookeeper (7 pets), creating stories, and looking for trouble in her kitchen.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Hospitals smelled like sickness. It didn’t matter which ward it was - from obstetrics to cardiac care, the stench was like a thick, suffocating cloud that hit her like a wall the second she’d stepped through the front door. Maybe not as bad as when Grandma Aggie had been dying, but it was still there, and no matter how hard she tried to fight it, Abigail Keane wanted to throw up.

Leaning back against the wall outside the room, she closed her eyes and took several slow, deep breaths, willing herself to relax, to get a grip on herself. She couldn’t walk in there like a frightened little girl because headmistresses didn’t get to show weakness. They had to be strong, to set an example, to not fall apart when they were visiting a student.

Feeling a gentle touch on her arm, she opened her eyes to see a tall nurse in bright green scrubs standing beside her.

Are you all right? she asked, her voice gentle as she reached out to touch her arm. Abby swallowed a sigh. Busted...

I’m fine, she lied, straightening up, squaring her shoulders, and stepping into her no-nonsense Ms. Keane persona like a professional actor about to walk out on stage. Thank you for asking.

She’s doing better today. And we’ll make sure she gets the help she needs before we discharge her.

I know. It’s just— She couldn’t bring herself to voice the fears that had been tormenting her since the housemother’s call two days ago.

I know, but I promise, we will do our best for her. With the proper intervention, the odds are in favor of her being fine.

Abby nodded, hoping it would be true. Paula Whitcomb deserved so much more than the hard life she’d been born into. That’s why she’d been offered one of the few scholarships the Lockwood Galloway School for Girls gave to deserving students every year. To nurture the near genius potential that had been wasting away in the underfunded public educational system. To open the door to a future with limitless possibilities, not to—

When the nurse disappeared around the corner, Abby started pacing the quiet hallway. When she’d chosen her major, she wished someone had pointed out just how hard it would be. But when the subject of problem students had come up, the focus had tended to be on how to handle trouble-makers, that and looking for signs of abuse. Very little had been mentioned about emotional issues and things like eating disorders, or worse. Maybe if she’d known what to look for...

Taking another deep breath, she made a concentrated effort to push the thoughts aside. She needed to get this visit over because she had a plane to catch.

THE SOUNDS OF SNEAKERS squeaking against the polished wood floor and the ball hitting the walls echoed loudly in the small enclosed room as Cam kicked his butt in the sadly mismatched racquetball game. Nolan Campbell might have called cheating if he could catch his breath, but this match — more than most — had turned into the most competitive one they’d ever played.

Nice, Cameron panted, nodding in approval when he saved the rally with a well-timed backhand stroke.

Thanks.

He needed to take up running again. While he might live in the palace as physician to the royal family, he still maintained a small practice in the heart of Casteloria, and between Laura’s high-risk pregnancy and late-in-the-season recurrence of the flu, he hadn’t had much time for any physical activity that didn’t include flopping down on his sofa to catch a nap.

But today called for a little extra effort on his part. After more than a year of appeals, Angus Farlane had breathed his last breath that morning. On the fence about the death penalty, he hadn’t administered the lethal injection, but he couldn’t be sorry over his death. Not even a little bit. It seemed Cameron wasn’t sure how he felt about it either.

Angus had been the driving force behind the death of Cam’s first wife, Shannen, and had later attempted to murder both him and his son, Brendan. He was, in fact, the sole reason Brendan had been forced to don a prosthetic leg. Cameron should have been thrilled to see an end to the greedy monster’s life.

But he wasn’t. Because the Crown Prince to the Castelorian throne had a heart, and he knew Arliss, his cousin Colin’s wife and Angus’s daughter, was in mourning today. Like her husband, she was ashamed of her father, horrified that he’d caused so much harm, and that he’d done it in order to force Colin into a position he’d never wanted in the first place — that of future king. But even so, she still loved the man who had raised her, and no one blamed her for that.

You’re off your game, Cameron complained, breathless, walking behind him to get the ball Nolan had missed — again. This is like taking candy from a baby. Put a little effort into it so I don’t regret not asking Fin instead.

You didn’t ask Fin because the only way you could beat him is if you hit him over the head with a club before the first serve.

Right. Like that would work. He’d wipe the floor with me anyway. But at least he’d make me work for it.

When it came to any physical activity, they both knew Finley Hughes would win. Running, volleyball, racquetball, archery... The man was so good at everything that if Nolan didn’t like him so much, he might just hate him.

Except few people could hate Finley Hughes. He might seem like a hard-nosed, all business, face-might-crack-if-he-tried-to-smile kind of guy, but he had a heart of gold. He would also give his life to save those he cared about. Nolan was honored to count himself among that select group. Unless they were competing in a game, and then he sometimes wished for the club he’d just mentioned.

You really are out of it today, aren’t you, Doc?

Cameron flopped down on the floor where he’d been standing when he made the shot that won the match. Two games in a row. They almost always played three because most days, they were fairly evenly matched. Not today though. Nolan ignored him as he sat there, leaning back with his hands planted on the floor behind him, just looking at him.

So what’s going on?

You know me, he said with a sigh, lowering himself to the floor, his back against the wall, feet stretched out in front of him. Angus deserved to die. Part of me is really happy that he paid for what he did to you, Shannen, and Brendan.

But the other part...

The other part of me is a doctor, Cam. I do my best to save lives. It’s hard for me to see anyone killed on purpose, be it murder, suicide, or the death penalty.

I tend to agree with you on that.

I know you do. He looked at his water bottle sitting across the court and wished it weren’t so far away. How’s Brendan taking it?

He’s a fourteen year old boy who plays too many video games and watches too many movies where the bad guy dies.

Pretty excited over it then?

That’s one way to put it. He’ll probably always have some anger issues over his mother being murdered, so that doesn’t help. And then there’s the prosthesis he’ll have to see every day for the rest of his life. A constant reminder of the man who tried to kill him...

Want me to talk to him? See where his head’s at, set him up with some counseling maybe?

Let’s just keep an eye on him for now. Except for this, he’s doing really well. He’s happy again.

He didn’t need to add that the change in Brendan had only been since meeting — and marrying — Laura Keane, and all but legally adopting her thirteen year old son, Sam. They were a happy, close-knit family now. That wasn’t the case a year ago.

If you change your mind, I’ll help in any way I can.

I know you will. And I appreciate it. Cameron grunted as he got to his feet. I suppose I should get showered and check on my wife.

Let her know I’ll be stopping by after I get cleaned up, will you, old man? Nolan vaulted to his feet, too, muscles he’d forgotten he had protesting loudly.

"I’m only four years older than you, boy, so you’re not that far behind me. He reached down for the towel laying on top of his gym bag, slung it around his neck and grinned. Same time tomorrow?"

I have the clinic from one to four, so we’ll either have to make it early, or wait until after supper.

After supper. I have meetings scheduled all morning.

All right. If I don’t see you before, and the odds were better than good that he would, I’ll see you then.

NOLAN SCRUBBED THE towel across his chest and down his arm, before switching hands to do the other side. As he dried off, he tried to focus on happier thoughts, like the welcome party planned for Laura’s sister-in-law tomorrow evening. Sam was almost beside himself waiting for her plane to land. Lucky for him, it was a special occasion and Laura was setting aside the nine o’clock curfew so they could all go to the airport to meet her.

Nolan had been roped into going along, too. Rather Cameron had pretty much insisted he come along. He seemed to feel that a larger greeting party would make Abigail Keane feel more welcome. The more welcome she felt, the more comfortable she’d be.

Stepping into a pair of worn, faded jeans, he thought she must already feel comfortable since the plan was for her to stay until just before school started in September. Whatever. He could suck it up and go along for the ride.

Putting the soon-to-arrive visitor out of his mind, he slipped into a pair of backless sandals and a tee-shirt that had seen better days, grabbed his bag and headed for the south wing.

He greeted several guards stationed throughout the palace by their first names as he walked at a swift pace to Cameron’s apartment. He didn’t have a set appointment, but usually tried to stop by during the early afternoon, and then again last thing at night. With the upcoming excitement, it was even more important to get it out of the way as soon as possible. Besides, if he started earlier at the clinic, he might finish earlier. Doubtful, but anything was possible.

Rapping lightly on the door, he let himself in, glanced around the living area, and then loped up one side of the curved double stairway. If she wasn’t down here, she was probably lying down, which he fully approved of.

Come in, Cameron called at his knock. He was standing in front of a full-length mirror knotting a tie.

She isn’t napping, he noted, watching as Laura pulled first one outfit out of her closet, then shake her head, put it back, and pull something else out.

Abby will be here in a few hours, she said, as if that explained everything.

And?

And I want to look normal. Nothing really fancy. She turned to face Cameron, her expression one of dismay, maybe with a little panic thrown in. But all of my clothes are expensive now. When did that happen? Don’t I have any regular ones left?

I don’t know, sweetheart. But whatever you decide to wear, you’ll look beautiful.

Nolan watched as Cameron crossed the room, took his wife into his arms and kissed her softly.

You are so sweet, Laura whispered, laying her head against his shoulder.

I hate to break up this love-fest, but I have to get to the clinic so... Laura, you know the drill. Sit down and relax for a few minutes.

You are such a tyrant, she told him, but she was smiling as she kissed Cameron’s cheek and eased down into the arm chair by the fireplace.

Didn’t anyone ever tell you my secret nickname? Dr. Tyrant, at your service. As he pulled the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope from his bag he asked, Did your husband tell you how bad he beat me at racquetball?

He beat you? Seriously? It was clear by her tone, and the corners of Cameron’s lips twitching, that he had, but he decided to play along to help Laura relax a little more.

Not by much, but yeah he did. For a change.

For a change, Cameron muttered, snickering as he pulled on a pair of gleaming black shoes. All right. It’s time for me to head to the office. I’ve got a call coming in from the head of tourism in— I forget which country. Anyway, I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished. He walked over to where Laura sat, leaned down and kissed her.

Oh good job there, Einstein. I’m getting ready to take her blood pressure and there you go, sending it skyrocketing.

What can I say? I have that effect on my wife.

"Well save it until after I get this afternoon’s reading please."

What a fishwife you’ve turned into, he complained, but mouthed, ‘text me,’ on his way to the door. Nolan nodded his head just enough to show he’d gotten the message. They were both worried that Laura might be getting too worked up over the visit from her former sister-in-law.

It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it. Once they were alone, Nolan shoved the footstool a little closer to the chair with his foot, sat down, and hooked the stethoscope around his neck. Now let’s see how the little princess is doing today.

While Laura had been a virtual Madonna since discovering she was pregnant, she’d simply glowed since an ultrasound at the halfway point showed their child would be a girl. Now, at twenty-nine weeks, he was doing everything he could to buy her another month. And they just might get there — if they could keep her blood pressure under control.

He handed her a pink stethoscope that he kept in his bag just for her. Laura knew the drill. As soon as he located the heartbeat, he would place the bell of hers next to his. While she listened to her baby, he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her upper arm and took the reading.

It’s a little higher than I’d like it to be, but I was actually expecting this what with a guest arriving in a few hours.

She’s all right though? Good thing the cuff was off because he could just imagine the numbers inching up a few notches.

Calm down. She’s fine. But with all of the excitement, I think I’d like to see you spend most of the evening resting. We’ll open the balcony doors so you can lie here and listen to the surf...

Hypothermia a new treatment for high blood pressure, is it? Laura asked, raising her brows.

That was a joke, my dear. Just wanted to show you that an afternoon and evening of rest could be worse. I’ll make sure someone is here to keep you company after I leave.

Not Maeve, please.

"Not Maeve. The goal is to keep your pressure under control, not send it shooting through the roof."

Queen Maeve was actually a very sweet woman, but with the birth of her third grandchild in the not too distant future, she tended to hover. And to worry, especially now that Laura’s pregnancy had been categorized as high risk.

Maybe Mary? Laura suggested hesitantly. Mary was a fairly meek and quiet housemaid, but she was capable enough. And if that’s who Laura needed to help her relax, that’s who she would get.

Sounds good to me. Let me just send a message to Cameron so he can take care of it. His fingers flew over the tiny keys like he’d been born to text.

You mean so you can let him know my blood pressure is a little high for your liking?

That, too.

Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?

That went out the window when you signed the release form giving me and your O.B. permission to discuss your health and the pregnancy with your husband.

Oh, that’s right, she said, pretending that she’d forgotten. He’d come to know Laura well enough to know that she rarely forgot anything, much less something that important.

Unless you want to revoke the permission... Nolan grinned when she scowled at him.

No. He just worries too much. And he didn’t need this, today of all days.

I know. But Angus paid the price for his crimes. The high court made the ruling. Now it’s over, and time to move on with life. It’s also time to get you to bed, young lady.

Ha! I’m older than you are, she scoffed, taking hold of the hands he held out to pull her to her feet.

"Only by a year. Come on. Get moving. I’ve still got a clinic full of patients to tend to this afternoon.

You work too hard, Nolan.

Glad someone finally noticed.

ABBY CONSIDERED HERSELF fortunate to get a straight-through flight to Nuuk, Greenland, where she would then catch a small plane for the short trip to Casteloria. She knew a jet was kept at the airport in Lansing for anyone wishing to visit the island, but she’d have felt uncomfortable using it. The only relative she had there now that Laura had remarried was Sam, and she wasn’t sure how much an aunt and former sister-in-law counted as family where royalty was concerned.

Halfway through the first leg of the journey, she hoped she wasn’t making a mistake in planning to spend the entire summer at a palace in a country she’d never heard of, but Sam had kept asking, almost begging at times, so she’d finally given in. She needed to make sure her brother’s son was, if not happy, then at least not miserable.

She knew from sad experience that a huge difference in classes could have devastating results, and much as she tried to block the memories, they wouldn’t be stopped.

It had been bad enough to learn that Paula Whitcomb had cut her wrists in a suicide attempt. When it came to light that it was the result of relentless bullying by girls from some of their more well-to-do families, Abby had been ready to expel the tormentors, except the board sent Melissa Stuart, one of the student advisers, to have a chat with her.

I don’t like it any more than you do, Abby, she said, not quite meeting her eyes. But they want to keep this quiet.

You mean they want to sweep it under the rug.

That’s not what they said at all. They just don’t want it to hit the newsstands.

"Yes, I can see why they wouldn’t. One of our poorest students, here on a scholarship, tries to kill herself because our wealthy students made her life a living hell. Because the staff wouldn’t step up and put a stop to it. That would certainly tarnish the stellar reputation we have as compassionate, caring substitute parents, wouldn’t it?"

Abby, come on now. Melissa had lowered her voice so it was soft, placating. This has never happened before and you know it.

The suicide attempt or the bullying? Would anyone have told me about the bullying if Paula hadn’t tried to kill herself? She hadn’t intended to get so loud, but by the time she reached the end of the question, she’d been shouting. Not only that, but she’d risen to her feet, planted her hands on the top of her desk and was bent over the top so far she was almost nose-to-nose with Melissa.

We thought we had it under control.

Under control? What a joke! What had happened, she was sure, was that