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The Doctor Takes
a Princess
Leanne Banks
Pregnant with
the Prince’s
Child
Raye Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Doctor Takes a Princess

Dear Reader,

Have you ever been underestimated? How did you deal with it? Laugh it off? Get angry and stomp your foot? Ignore it?

All are options. For Princess Bridget Devereaux, once her life was saved by her now sister-in-law, everything changed. Now, she needs to make sure the life she’s living is worth saving. What a challenge. What she doesn’t know is that she is far more important than she believed.

So back to this underestimation thing … Have you ever underestimated yourself? I think we often do. When someone comes along who believes in you, who sees you as bigger and more capable than you see yourself, it can be a hugely empowering, amazing experience.

When Princess Bridget meets Dr Ryder McCall, he and his babies challenge her in ways she’d never dreamed. Along the way, they could end up saving each other. I hope you’ll enjoy the ride to see how it all turns out …

xo,

Leanne Banks

About the Author

LEANNE BANKS is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realises how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden on an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didn’t break), gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian named Bijou. Visit her website at www.leannebanks.com.

This book is dedicated to all those underestimated

women with tender hearts and big fears who hide it all

with a big smile. Thank you for being so much more

than we give you credit for.

Prologue

Ryder McCall raced the double baby stroller into the elevator just as the doors started to close. The twin boys cackled with glee at the wild ride as he pressed the button for the eighth floor. He’d already rescheduled the appointment with his attorney three times and he would have done it again if he’d known the nanny was going to bail on him. Again.

In the back of his mind, he counted his pulse. His heart rate was higher now than when he’d run a half marathon last year. His life was far different now, he thought as he glanced at the boys and caught a swishing movement behind him. Stepping to the side, he saw a woman dressed in a pink cocktail gown that skimmed over her creamy shoulders and her curvy body. The dress ended just above her knees, revealing a tempting glimpse of her legs and high-heeled sandals. The medical expert in him knew the negative impact of high heels on the human body, but the man in him was trying to remember the last time he’d been out with a woman. He was having a tough time remembering.

The woman smiled at him and gestured toward the twins. “They’re adorable. I bet they keep you busy.”

He nodded. “More than you could—”

The elevator suddenly jolted and dropped several feet, then stopped.

Ryder glanced at the boys at the same time he heard the woman’s intake of breath. “Everyone okay?”

The twins just looked at them with wide eyes.

“Are we stuck?” the woman asked, her brow furrowed with worry.

“Let me see,” he said and pushed the button for another floor. The elevator didn’t move. He pushed the button to open the doors and nothing happened. He pushed the alarm button and a piercing sound filled the elevator.

The woman covered her ears. “Oh, my—”

A voice came on an intercom. “This is building security. Do you have a problem?”

“We’re stuck,” Ryder yelled over the terrible pulsating alarm. He heard a sob from one of the boys. A half beat later, the other started, louder.

“So sorry, sir. We’ll come and fix it soon.”

“Soon,” he echoed as the twins began to cry in earnest. “When is soon?”

“As soon as possible,” the woman on the intercom said and there was a clicking noise. The alarm shut off, but the boys were in high gear.

“Oh, the poor things. They must be frightened,” the woman in the elevator said. She paused a moment, then shrugged. “Here, I’ll hold one of them.”

Ryder shot a skeptical glance at her. “They haven’t had their baths and they ‘re very messy eaters.” Tyler was wearing a gross combination of yellow and orange on his blue shirt while Travis clearly had not enjoyed his strained peas. Green smudges decorated the light blue shirt that matched his brother’s.

The woman made a tsking sound. “Well, we have to do something. We can’t let them keep screaming.” She set her purse on the floor and held out her hands. “Go ahead, give one of them to me,” she insisted in a voice that sounded as if she were accustomed to having her orders followed.

As a medical doctor and acting chief adviser for the residents at Texas Medical Center, he, too, was accustomed to having his orders followed. This time, though, he decided to allow the woman to take Tyler because the baby was clearly beyond upset. As soon as he set the boy in her arms, she bobbed as if she’d handled a crying baby before. Ryder hauled Travis out of his stroller seat and also bobbed.

The woman made soothing sounds and Tyler gradually quieted between hiccups. As usual, Travis took a little longer. He was the louder boy of the two.

“That’s better,” she said. “Who am I holding?”

“Tyler,” Ryder said. “This is Travis. I’m Ryder McCall. Thank you for your help.”

“You’re quite welcome,” she said in a voice that seemed to combine several accents, none of which originated from Texas. “I’m Bridget,” she said and fanned herself with the shawl draped over her arm. “Whew, it’s getting warm already.”

“And it’s only going to get hotter until they fix the elevator. Are you feeling faint?” he asked, aware that plenty of people would grow light-headed in this situation.

She shook her head. “No.”

“I’d offer you some water, but I was in a hurry when I left the house, so all I’ve got are bottles for the boys.”

“Well, at least you have that,” she said and glanced at her watch. “I hope we’re not stuck for long. Perhaps I should call my friends.” She bent toward the floor and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m going to have to put you down for a moment,” she murmured and carefully placed the tot in his stroller seat. She picked up her phone and punched some numbers, then frowned.

“Let me guess,” Ryder said. “No service.”

She nodded.

“Figures. The steel doors can sustain most catastrophes known to man, so they’re bound to make it difficult to get a cell connection.”

She bit her lip and winced. “Oh, I wonder if someone will call my security.”

“They’re on their way,” he said, wondering if she hadn’t understood the conversation he’d had with the woman earlier. Maybe she hadn’t heard correctly, he thought, between the alarm bleeping and the boys screaming. “At least, they better be on their way. I hope the boys don’t—”

“Need a diaper change?” she asked, nodding in understanding. “Time for the—”

“Nanny,” he said in complete agreement. “I just wish I could find one who would stay around longer than two weeks.”

“That sounds difficult. Are you working with an agency?”

He nodded. “Part of the problem is I work long hours.”

“Hmm, and your wife?”

“I don’t have a wife,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, that must make it very difficult.”

Ryder sighed. “I’m actually the boys’ godfather. My brother and his wife were killed in an automobile accident one month ago.”

Bridget gasped. “That’s terrible. Those poor boys, and you, oh my goodness. Do you have any help at all?”

“Not unless I hire them,” he muttered. “Do you have any children?”

She shook her head quickly, the same way he would have before he’d learned he would be raising the boys. “Two baby nieces,” she said.

“That’s how you knew to bob up and down with Tyler,” he said.

“Yes,” Bridget said and glanced at her watch again, growing uneasy. She’d agreed to the charity appearance she would be attending as a favor to her sister’s longtime friend, and her security was only a three-button code away if she should need them. If her sister’s friend became uneasy, however, she might call Valentina. Valentina might call security to check on her and … She shuddered at the public scene that would cause. Bridget was here in Dallas to do the job her brother had asked of her and as soon as she was done, she was off to Italy.

It was so warm that she was getting past the glow stage. Right now, she probably looked like she’d just finished a spinning class, although she did those as rarely as possible. Getting sweaty wouldn’t matter that much to her if she weren’t being photographed. During the last year and a half, however, it had been drilled into her that her appearance in front of the camera was a reflection of her country. It was her duty to look immaculate and to avoid scandal at all cost.

Bridget had slipped a few times on both counts. She might be a princess, but she wasn’t perfect. Nor was she particularly patient. She could tell that Ryder, the other adult in the elevator, wasn’t patient either. He was glancing upward as if he were assessing the structure of the lift.

“You’re not thinking of climbing out, are you?” she couldn’t resist asking.

“If no one shows up, I may have to,” he said.

“And what were you planning to do with the babies?” she demanded, panicked at the prospect of being left alone with the twins. Now that she thought of it, Ryder’s presence had made her feel much more reassured.

He shot her a level look. “The purpose of getting out would be to ensure safety for all of us.”

He looked like a no-nonsense kind of man, strong, perhaps intolerant of anyone weaker than himself. Which would include her. Okay, she was making assumptions. But what else could she bloody do? She was stuck in an elevator with the man. She couldn’t deny the appeal of his strong jaw and lean but muscular body. She also couldn’t deny her admiration that he had taken on his brother’s orphaned twins.

An instant parent of twin boys? The mere thought made her sweat even more. Bridget would have forced herself to accept her responsibility in such a situation, but hopefully with sufficient support. Multiple children, multiple nannies.

She sighed, glancing at the emergency button. “We’ve heard nothing. Do you think we should call again?”

“It will make the boys cry again,” he said, clearly torn.

“I’ll take Tyler,” she said and picked up the baby. He flashed her a smile that gave her a burst of pleasure despite their situation. “You’re a little flirt, aren’t you?” she said and tickled his chin.

Ryder stabbed the button and the shrieking alarm started. Tyler’s smile immediately fell and his eyes filled with fear. He began to scream. His brother began to wail.

Seconds later, the alarm stopped and a voice came on the intercom, but Bridget couldn’t make out the conversation with Ryder as she tried to comfort Tyler. The only thing she knew was that Ryder had spoken in a firm, commanding voice that rivaled that of her brother’s, and anyone in their right mind had better obey.

The intercom voice went away, but the babies still cried. Bridget and Tyler bobbed. “What did they say?”

“They said they would take care of us in five minutes,” he yelled over the cries of the boys.

“How did you do that?”

“I told them I was climbing out in three,” he said.

“Effective. I wonder if I should try that sometime,” she mused. “Is there anything else we can do to settle them down?” she asked loudly, still shielding Tyler’s closest ear with her hand.

A long-suffering expression crossed his face. “Just one thing,” he said. “Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream.”

Bridget stared in amazement at this man who reminded her of a modern-day warrior singing a children’s song and something inside her shifted. The sensation made her feel light-headed. Alarm shot through her. Or perhaps, it was the heat. Pushing the odd feeling and any self-consciousness aside, she sang along.

Six minutes later, the elevator doors opened with a swarm of firemen, paramedics and Bridget’s security guard standing outside.

“Your Highness,” her security guard said, extending his hand to her.

“Just a second,” she said, putting Tyler into his stroller seat.

“Your Highness?” Ryder echoed, studying her with a curious gaze. “Why didn’t you—”

“It—it causes a fuss,” she said. “Will you be okay? Will the children be okay?”

“We’re fine,” he said, and she felt foolish for questioning such a capable man.

“Well, thank you,” she said and extended her hand to his, noting that his hands were smooth, but large and strong. She felt an odd little spark and immediately pulled back. “And good luck.”

“Your Highness, a medical professional is waiting to examine you,” her security said as she stepped off the lift.

“I don’t need a medical professional,” she murmured. “I need a cosmetic miracle.”

Chapter One

Sitting at the kitchen table of her brother-in-law’s ranch, Bridget watched Zach Logan hug her sister Valentina as if he were leaving for a yearlong journey. Instead, she knew he would be gone for only a couple of nights. Bridget resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Zach and Valentina just seemed so gooey in love.

“Call me if you need anything,” he told her, then swung his young daughter, Katiana, up into his arms. “Are you going to be good for your mommy?”

Katiana solemnly nodded.

“Give me a kiss,” he said.

The toddler kissed his cheek and wrapped her little arms around his neck.

Despite her earlier reaction, the scene tugged at Bridget’s heart. She knew Zach and Tina had gone through some tough times before they’d gotten married.

Zach shot Bridget a firm glance that instinctively made her sit up straighter. He was that kind of man, confident with a strong will. Although she was happy Tina had found happiness with him, Bridget knew she would want a totally different kind of man. Charming, average intelligence, playful and most likely Italian.

“You,” he said, pointing his finger at Bridget. “Stay out of elevators.”

She laughed. “I can only promise that for a few days. When I go back to Dallas, I’m sure I’ll have to face more elevators if I’m going to complete Stefan’s latest job for me. If I have anything to do with it, I’m going to take care of it as quickly as possible.”

Tina shot her a sideways glance. “Are you saying you’re already tired of us?”

Bridget shook her head and walked to give her sister a hug. “Of course I’m not tired of you. But you know I’ve had a dream of having a long-delayed gap year in Italy and studying art for years now. I want to make that dream come true while I’m still young.”

Tina made a scoffing sound, but still returned the hug. “You’re far from losing your youth, but I agree you deserve a break. You’ve taken on the bulk of public appearances since I left Chantaine and moved here. I don’t understand why you didn’t take a break before coming here. I’m sure Stefan would have let you.”

Stefan, their brother, the crown prince, could be the most demanding person on the planet, but what Tina said was true. He not only would have allowed Bridget a break, he had also encouraged it. “I want a year. A whole year. And he believes Chantaine needs more doctors. I agree. Especially after what happened to Eve—” Her voice broke, taking her by surprise. She’d thought she’d gotten her feelings under control.

Tina patted her back with sympathy. “You still feel guilty about that. I know Eve wishes you didn’t.”

Bridget took a careful breath, reining in her emotions. “She saved my life when the crowd was going to stampede me. Pushed me aside and threw herself in front of me. I’m just so glad she survived it and recovered. I don’t know what I would do if she hadn’t …” Her throat closed up again.

“Well, she survived and you did, too. That’s what’s important,” Zach said and pulled Bridget into a brotherly hug. “And now that you’re in my territory, I want you to think twice before getting on elevators.”

Tina laughed. “So protective,” she said. “It’s a wonder he doesn’t find some kind of testing device for you to use so you won’t get stuck again.”

Zach rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea. Maybe—”

“Forget it,” Bridget said, the knot in her chest easing at the love she felt from both her sister and her brother-in-law. “I’ll be fine. Think about it. How many people do you know who have gotten stuck in elevators? Especially more than once?”

“You were a good soldier,” Tina said in approval. “And you still showed up for your appearance at Keely’s charity event.”

“She probably wasn’t expecting me in my sad state with droopy hair and a dress with baby-food stain on it.”

“Oh, she said they loved you. Found you charming. Were delighted by your story about the elevator. Most important, the donations increased after your arrival.”

“Well, I guess baby-food stains are good for something, then. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to finish your goodbyes in private. Safe travels, Zach.”

“You bet,” he said.

Bridget scooped up her cup of hot tea and walked upstairs to the guest room where she was staying. Her sister had redecorated the room in soothing shades of green and blue. The ranch should have given Bridget a sense of serenity. After all, she was miles from Stefan and his to-do list for her. She was away from Chantaine where she was recognized and haunted by the paparazzi whenever she left the palace. But Bridget never seemed to be able to escape the restlessness inside her. That was why she’d decided to skip a short vacation and take care of this significant task Stefan had asked of her. After that, she could take her trip to Italy and find her peace again.

No one had ever accused Bridget of being deep. She voiced her distress and upset to her family at will, but presented the rest of the world with a cheery effervescent face. It was her job.

Some of the conditions she’d witnessed during the past year and a half, the sights and sounds of children sick in the hospital, Chantaine’s citizens struggling with poverty, cut her to the quick and it had been difficult to keep her winsome attitude intact. It irritated her how much she now had to struggle to maintain a superficial air. Life had been so much easier when she hadn’t faced others in need. Life had been easier when someone hadn’t been willing to sacrifice her life for the sake of Bridget’s safety.

Even though Eve had indeed survived and thrived since the accident, something inside Bridget had changed. And she wasn’t sure she liked it. Eve and Stefan had fallen in love and married. Eve cared for Stefan’s out-of-wedlock daughter as if she were her own. On the face of it, everything was wonderful.

Deep down, though, Bridget wondered if her life was really worth saving. What had she done that made her worthy of such an act?

She squeezed her eyes shut and swore under her breath. “Stop asking that question,” she whispered harshly to herself.

Steeling herself against the ugly swarm of emotions, Bridget set her cup of tea on the table. She would complete the task Stefan asked of her. Then maybe she would have settled the score inside her, the score she couldn’t quite explain even to herself. Afterward she would go to Italy and hopefully she would find the joy and lightness she’d lost.

After three days of being unable to meet with the head of residents at Texas Medical Center of Dallas, Bridget seethed with impatience. Dr. Gordon Walters was never available, and all her calls to his office went unanswered. Thank goodness for connections. Apparently Tina’s friend Keely knew a doctor at University Hospital and there just happened to be a meet and greet for interns, doctors and important donors at a hotel near the hospital on Tuesday night.

Bridget checked into the hotel and her security took the room next to hers. One advantage of being at Zach’s ranch meant security was superfluous. Not so in Dallas. She dressed carefully because she needed to impress and to be taken seriously. A black dress with heels. She resisted the urge to paint her lips red. The old Bridget wouldn’t have batted an eye.

Frowning into the bathroom mirror in her suite, she wondered what that meant. Well, hell, if Madonna could wear red lipstick and be taken seriously, why couldn’t she? She smoothed her fingers over her head and tucked one side of her hair behind her left ear. She’d colored her hair darker lately. It fit her mood.

She frowned again into the mirror. Maybe she would dye it blond when she moved to Italy.

She punched the code for her security on her cell phone. Raoul picked up immediately. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“I’m ready. Please stay in the background,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am. But I shall join you on the elevator.”

A couple moments later, she rode said elevator to the floor which held the meeting rooms and ballrooms. A host stood outside the ballroom which housed the cocktail party she would attend. “Name?” he asked as she approached him.

She blinked, unaccustomed to being screened. Doors opened at the mention of her title. Not in Texas, she supposed. “Bridget Devereaux and escort,” she said, because Raoul was beside her.

The man flipped through several pages and checked off her name. “Welcome,” he said. “Please go in.”

“The nerve of the man,” Raoul said as they entered the ballroom full of people. “To question a member of the royal family,” he fumed as he surveyed the room.

Bridget smiled. “Novel experience,” she said. “I’m looking for Dr. Gordon Walters. If you see him, by all means, please do tell me.”

Thirty minutes later, Bridget was ready to pull out her hair. Every time she mentioned Dr. Walters’s name, people clammed up. She couldn’t squeeze even a bit of information about the man from anyone.

Frustrated, she accepted a glass of wine and decided to take another tack.

Dr. Ryder McCall checked his watch for the hundredth time in ten minutes. How much longer did he need to stay? The latest nanny he’d hired had seemed okay when he’d left tonight, but after his previous experiences, he couldn’t be sure. He caught a glimpse of the back of a woman with dark brown wavy hair and paused. Something about her looked familiar.

The dress was classic and on a woman with a different body, it would have evoked images of that actress. What was her name? Audrey something. But this woman had curves which evoked entirely different thoughts. The sight of the woman’s round derriere reminded Ryder of the fact that he hadn’t been with a woman in a while. Too long, he thought and adjusted his tie.

Curious, he moved so that he could catch a side view of her. Oh yeah, he thought, his gaze sliding over her feminine form from her calves to her thighs to the thrust of her breasts. He could easily imagine her minus the dress. His body responded. Then he glanced upward to her face and recognition slammed into him.

The woman speaking so animatedly to one of his top residents, Timothy Bing, was the same woman he’d met in the elevator the other night. Princess whatever. Bridget, he recalled. And of course, his top resident was utterly enthralled. Why wouldn’t he be? The poor resident was sleep-deprived, food-deprived and sex-deprived.

Ryder was suffering from the same deprivation albeit for different reasons. He wondered why she was here tonight. Might as well cure his curiosity, he thought, if he couldn’t cure his other deprivations. He walked toward the two of them.

Timothy only had eyes for Her Highness. Ryder cleared his throat. Both Timothy and the woman turned to look at him.

Timothy stiffened as if he were a marine and he’d just glimpsed a superior. Ryder almost wondered if he would salute. “Dr. McCall,” he said.

Bridget looked at him curiously. “Doctor?” she echoed. “I didn’t know you were a doctor.”

“We didn’t have much time to discuss our occupations. Your Highness,” he added.

Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Timothy’s eyes bulge in surprise. “Highness,” he said. “Are you a queen or something? I thought you said you were a representative of Chantaine.”

Bridget shot Ryder a glare, then smiled sweetly at Timothy. “I am a representative of Chantaine. A royal representative, and I hope you’ll consider the proposal I gave you about serving in Chantaine for a couple of years in exchange for a scholarship and all your living expenses.”

Ryder stared at the woman in horrified silence. She was trying to seduce away one of his prized residents. Timothy was brilliant. His next step should be to one of the top neurological hospitals in the States.

Ryder laughed. “Not in a million years,” he said.

Bridget furrowed her brow. “Why not? It’s a generous offer. Dr. Bing would benefit, as would Chantaine.”

“Because Dr. Bing is not going to make a gigantic misstep in his career by taking off for an island retreat when he could be one of the top neurological surgeons in America.”

Bridget’s furrow turned to a frown. “I find it insulting that you consider a temporary move to Chantaine a misstep. Our citizens suffer from neurological illnesses, too. Is it not the goal of a doctor to heal? Why should there be a prejudice against us just because we reside in a beautiful place? Does that mean we shouldn’t have treatment?”

“I wasn’t suggesting that your country doesn’t deserve medical care. It’s my job, however, to advise Dr. Bing to make the best decisions in advancing his career and knowledge.”

Princess Bridget crossed her arms over her chest and looked down her nose at him. “I thought that was Dr. Gordon Walters’s job, although the man is nowhere to be found.”

Timothy made a choking sound. “Excuse me,” he said. “I need to …” He walked quickly away without finishing his sentence.

“Well, now you’ve done it,” she said. “I was having a perfectly lovely conversation with Dr. Bing and you ruined it.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. The whole tenor of our conversation changed when you appeared. Dr. Bing was actually open to considering my offer to come to Chantaine.”

“Dr. Bing wanted to get into your pants,” Ryder said and immediately regretted his blunt statement.

Bridget shot him a shocked glance. “You’re the most insulting man I’ve ever met.”

“You clearly haven’t met many residents,” he said wearily. “I apologize if I offended you, but Timothy Bing doesn’t belong in Chantley or wherever you said you’re from.”

“Chantaine,” she said between gritted teeth. “I will accept your apology if you can direct me to Dr. Gordon Walters. He is the man I must meet.”

Ryder sighed. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you. Dr. Gordon Walters is not here tonight. He hasn’t been working in the position as chief resident adviser for some time. It’s not likely he’ll return.”

She cocked her head to one side and frowned further. “Then who will take his place?”

“No one will take his place. Dr. Walters is rightfully loved and respected. I am serving as his temporary successor.”

Realization crossed her face. “How wonderful,” she said, when she clearly found the news anything but.

Bloody hell, Bridget thought, clenching her fingers together. Now she’d put herself in a mess. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Yes, she and Dr. McCall had engaged in a spirited discussion, but surely he would come around once he heard more about Chantaine and the program she was offering.

“Well, I’m glad I’ve finally found the person who is currently in charge. Our first meeting in the elevator showed that you and I are both responsible, reasonable adults. I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an understanding on this matter,” she said, imbuing her words with every bit of positive energy she could muster.

Dr. McCall shot her a skeptical glance. “I’ll agree with your first point, but I can’t promise anything on the second. It’s good to see you again, Your Highness.” His gaze gave her a quick sweep from head to toe and back again. “Nice dress. Good evening,” he said and turned to leave.

It took Bridget an extra second to recover from the understated compliment that inexplicably flustered before she went after him. “Wait, please,” she said.

Dr. McCall stopped and turned, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I really do need to discuss Chantaine’s medical needs with you. I’m hoping we can come to some sort of agreement.”

“I already told you I couldn’t recommend that Timothy Bing spend two years in your country,” he said.

“But you have other students,” she said. “I’m sure you have students interested in many different areas of medical care. Coming to Chantaine would enable the physicians to get hands-on experience. Plus there’s the matter of the financial assistance we would offer.”

“I’m sorry, Your High—”

“Oh, please,” she said, unable to contain her impatience. “Call me Bridget. We’ve sung together in an elevator, for bloody sake.”

His lips twitched slightly. “True. Bridget, I’m not sure I can help you. Again, my number-one priority is guiding my students to make the best career decisions.”

Her heart sank. “Well, the least you can do is give me an opportunity to discuss Chantaine’s needs and what we have to offer.”

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders in a discouraging way, then pulled a card from his pocket. “Okay. Here’s my card. My schedule is very busy, but call my assistant and she’ll work you in.”

Work her in. Bridget clenched her teeth slightly at the words, but forced a smile. “Thank you. You won’t regret it.”

“Hmm,” he said in a noncommittal tone and walked away.

She barely resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him.

Raoul appeared by her side. “Are you all right, Your Highness? You look upset.”

“I do?” she asked, composing herself into what she hoped look like a serene expression. She was finding it more and more difficult to pull off instant serenity these days. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’ve just encountered a slight obstacle to completing my assignment for Chantaine.”

She watched Ryder McCall’s broad shoulders and tall form as he wove through the crowd. Slight obstacle was putting it mildly, but she’d learned that a positive attitude could get a woman through a lot of tricky spots. “I need to know everything about Dr. Ryder McCall by morning, if not before,” she muttered and glanced around the room. It was amazing what one could learn about a person in a social situation such as this. She might as well make the best of it.

Ryder walked into his house braced for chaos. His home life had become one big state of chaos bigger than the state of Texas since he’d inherited his brother’s boys. Instead of pandemonium, his home was dark and quiet, except for the sound of a baseball game. Ryder spotted his longtime pal Marshall lounging on the leather couch with a box of half-eaten pizza on the coffee table and a beer in his hand.

“Your sitter called me,” Marshall said, not rising. “As your official backup. She said one of her kids got sick, so she couldn’t stay. Just curious, where am I on that backup list?”

Pretty far down, Ryder thought, but didn’t admit it. There were two middle-aged neighbors, an aunt on the other side of town and his admin assistant before Marshall. Ryder suspected he’d called in favors too often if everyone had refused but Marshall. “Thanks for coming. How are the boys?”

Marshall cracked a wily grin. “Great. Gave them a few Cheerios, wore them out and tossed them into bed.”

“Bath?” he asked.

“The sitter took care of that before I got here. That Travis is a pistol. Didn’t want to go to sleep, so I gave him my best Garth Brooks.”

Ryder gave a tired smile. “Must have worked. I’ll give a quick check and be right back.”

“Cold one’s waiting,” Marshall said.

Ryder trusted Marshall to a degree, but he didn’t think leaving the kids with his buddy from high school on a regular basis was a good idea. He wouldn’t put it past Marshall to slip the boys a sip from his beer if he was desperate enough. When pressured, Marshall could get a little too creative, like the time he hot-wired the car of one of the school’s top wrestlers because his own car had died.

Marshall owned a chain of auto-mechanic shops across Texas. He wore his hair in a ponytail and tattoos were stamped over his arms and back. He hadn’t attended college, but he’d made a success of himself. Most people couldn’t understand their friendship because they appeared to be total opposites, but a mutual appreciation for baseball, some shared holiday dinners which had always included hotdogs and hamburgers and the fact that they both tried to show up during the hard times had made them like family.

With his brother Cory gone, Marshall was the closest thing to family Ryder had. His gut twisted at the thought, but he shoved the feeling aside and gently opened the door to the nursery. He’d learned to walk with stealthlike quiet during the last month. The possibility of waking the boys made him break into a cold sweat.

Moving toward the closest crib, he glanced inside and even in the dark, he knew that this was Tyler, and he was in Travis’s bed. Travis was in Tyler’s bed. He wasn’t going to complain. They were both lying on their backs in la-la land. Which was exactly where he would like to be.

Instead, he walked on quiet footsteps out of the room and gently closed the door behind him. Returning to the den, he saw Marshall still sprawled on his sofa with the same beer in his hand.

“They’re asleep,” Ryder said and sank into a leather chair next to the sofa. He raked his hand through his hair.

“I coulda told you that,” Marshall said. “I made sure they would sleep well tonight.”

He shot a quick glance at Marshall. “You didn’t give them any booze, did you?”

Marshall looked offended. “Booze to babies? What kind of nut job do you think I am?”

“Well, you aren’t around kids very much,” Ryder said.

“Maybe not now, but I was an in-demand babysitter in junior high school. Some things you don’t forget. And just in case you’re worried, this is my second beer. I wouldn’t go on a bender when I was taking care of your kids.”

Chagrined, Ryder rubbed his chin. “You got me. Sorry, bud. Being in charge of two kids is making me a little crazy.”

“A little?” Marshall said and shook his head. “You’ve turned into the nut job. You know what your problem is, you’re no fun anymore. Those babies sense it and it gets them all uptight, too. It’s like a virus. You spread it to the babysitters and it makes them crazy, so they quit. You need to get laid and go to a ball game.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Ryder said. “I’ll take your advice in a decade or so.”

“Lord help us if you wait that long,” Marshall said. “Maybe I could set you up with somebody. Take the edge off.”

Ryder slid him a sideways glance. “I’ll pass. You and I may root for the Texas Rangers, but we don’t share the same taste in women.”

“Your loss,” Marshall said, sitting upright. “I know some women who could wear you out and make you sleep like a baby.”

“I’ve learned babies don’t always sleep that well.”

“It’s your aura,” Marshall said. “That’s what Jenny, my ex, would say. Your aura is poisoning your environment.”

“A dependable nanny is what I need,” Ryder said.

“Well, if you can get a sitter, I’ve got tickets to the Rangers game on Thursday. Take care, buddy,” he said, rising from the couch and patting Ryder on the shoulder. “Keep the faith, bud. And move me up on that backup list. I’m more dependable than your Aunt Joanie. I bet she’s always busy.”

Ryder smiled despite himself. “You got it. Thanks. If I can find a sitter, I’ll go to that game with you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it. ‘Night,” Marshall said and loped out of the house.

Ryder sank farther into his chair, kicked off his shoes and propped his shoes onto the coffee table. He considered reaching for that beer, but drinking anything would require too much energy. Hearing the roar of the crowd and the occasional crack of the bat hitting the ball from the game on his flat-screen TV with surround system, he closed his eyes.

Making sure the twins were safe, taking care of his patients and covering for Dr. Walters were the most important things in his life, but he knew he needed help, especially with the twins. He’d never dreamed how difficult it would be to find dependable caretakers for the boys. His head began to pound. He could feel his blood pressure rising. Pinching the bridge of his nose, for one moment, he deliberately chose not to think about the next nanny he would need to hire and the deteriorating mental health of his mentor, Dr. Walters.

Ryder thought back to his high school days when he’d been catcher and Marshall had pitched. They’d won the state championship senior year. That weekend had been full of celebration. He remembered a cheerleader who had paid attention to him for the first time. She’d given him a night full of memories. Blonde, curvy and wiggly, she’d kept him busy. He hadn’t lasted long the first time, but he’d done better the second and the third.

His lips tilted upward at the memory. He remembered the thrill of winning. There had never been a happier moment in his life. He sighed, and the visual of a different woman filled his mind. She had dark shoulder-length hair with a wicked red mouth and cool blue eyes. She wore a black dress that handled her curves the same way a man would. She would be a seductive combination of soft and firm with full breasts and inviting hips. She would kiss him into insanity and make him want more. He would slide his hands into her feminine wetness and make her gasp, then make her gasp again when he thrust inside her….

Ryder blinked. He was brick-hard and his heart was racing as if he were having sex. He swore out loud.

He couldn’t believe himself. Maybe Marshall was right. Maybe he just really needed to get laid. His only problem was that the woman in his daydream had been Problem Princess Bridget Devereaux. Yep, Marshall was right. Ryder was a nut job.

Bridget read Dr. Ryder McCall’s dossier for the hundredth time in three days. He hadn’t had the easiest upbringing in the world. His father had died when he was eight years old. His mother had died two years ago.

Ryder had played baseball in high school and won an academic scholarship. He’d graduated first in his college class, then first in his medical-school class.

His older brother, Cory, had played football and earned a college scholarship. Unfortunately, he was injured, so he dropped out, took a job as a departmentstore manager and married his high-school sweetheart. They’d waited to have children. Six months after the birth of twin boys, they’d attended an anniversary dinner but never made it home. A tractor trailer jackknifed in front of them on the freeway. They both died before they arrived at the emergency room.

An unbelievable tragedy. Even though Bridget had lost both her parents within years of each other, she had never been close to them. Ryder had clearly been close to his brother. Now, a man who had previously been unswervingly focused on his studies and career, was alone with those precious motherless babies.

Her heart broke every time she read his story. This was one of those times she wished she had a magic wand that would solve all of Ryder’s problems and heal his pain. But she didn’t. As much as she wished it were true, Bridget was all too certain of her humanity.

In the midst of all of this, she still had a job to do. She needed to bring doctors to Chantaine, and Dr. McCall’s assistant hedged every time Bridget attempted to make an appointment. She would give the assistant two more tries, then Bridget would face Ryder in his own territory. If he thought an assistant would keep her at bay, he had no concept of her will. Surprise, surprise, especially to herself. She may have portrayed an airy, charming personality, but underneath it all, she was growing a backbone.

Chapter Two

Ryder left the hospital and picked up the boys after the latest sitter unexpectedly informed him that her child had a medical appointment she could not skip. He had an important meeting with several members of the hospital board this afternoon which he could not skip. He hated to press his admin assistant into baby service again, but it couldn’t be helped.

After wrestling the boys in and out of car seats and the twin stroller, he felt like he’d run a 10K race as he pushed the stroller into his office suite. Instantly noting that his admin assistant was absent from her desk, he felt his stomach twist with dread. She’d left her desk tidy and organized as usual. She’d also left a note on his desk. He snatched it up and read it.

Miss Bridget Devereaux called 3x this a.m. I can’t put her off forever. Gone to my anniversary celebration as discussed. Thank you for letting me off.

—Maryann

Ryder swore out loud then remembered the boys were in the room with him. “Don’t ever say that word,” he told them. “Bad word.”

He recalled Maryann asking for the afternoon off—it had to have been a week or so ago. He’d been busy when she asked and hadn’t given it a second thought. Now, he had to juggle his boys and an important meeting. He shook his head. Women managed children and careers all the time. Why was it so difficult for him? He was a healthy, intelligent man. He’d run marathons, worked more than twenty-four hours straight, brought a man back to life in the E.R., but taking care of these boys made him feel like a train wreck.

Ryder sat down at his desk and flipped through his contact list on his computer for someone he could call to watch the boys during his meeting. He sent a few emails and made three calls. All he got were voice mails.

“Well, hello, Phantom Man,” a feminine voice called from the doorway.

Ryder swallowed an oath. Just what he needed right now. He didn’t even need to look to know it was Princess Persistent. But he did and couldn’t deny that she was a sight for sore eyes. Wearing another black dress, although this one looked a slight bit more like business wear, she smiled at him with that wicked red mouth that reminded him of what he hadn’t had in a long time.

Dismissing the thought, he lifted his hand. “I have no time to talk. Important meeting in less than—” He glanced at the clock. “Thirty minutes. Got to find someone one to watch the boys.”

“Not having any luck?” she asked.

“No.”

“You sound desperate,” she said, sympathy lacking in her tone.

“Not desperate,” he said. “Pressed.”

“Oh, well as soon as you give me a time for our meeting, I’ll get out of your way.”

“I already told you I don’t have time,” he said in a voice that no one in their right mind would question.

She shrugged. “All I want is for you to pull up your calendar and ink me in,” she said. “You already agreed.”

“Not—”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You have your job. I have mine.”

Travis arched against the stroller restraints as if he wanted out. The baby wore an expression of displeasure, which would soon turn to defiance and fury, which would also include unpleasant sound effects. Ryder loosened the strap and pulled him into his arms.

Tyler looked up expectantly and began the same arching action against the stroller. Ryder withheld an oath.

“Want some help?” Bridget asked.

“Yes,” he said. “If you could hold Tyler, I have one more person I can—” He stopped as he watched her settle the baby on her hip. An idea sprang to mind. “Can you keep them for an hour or so?”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “An hour?” she echoed. “Or so?”

“Just for this meeting,” he said. “I’ll leave as soon as possible.”

She shot him a considering look. “In exchange for an opportunity to discuss Chantaine’s medical proposition with you, and you having an open mind.”

“I agree to the first half. The second is going to be tough.”

“How tough would it be to take your twins to your important meeting?” she challenged.

The woman was playing dirty. “Okay,” he said. “As long as you understand, my first priority is my residents’ professional success.”

“Done,” she said. “Did you bring a blanket and some food?”

“Whatever the sitter keeps in the diaper bag,” he said, relief flowing through him like a cool stream of water. “Thank you,” he said, setting Travis in the stroller seat. “I’ll see you after the meeting,” he said and closed the office door behind him.

Bridget stared at the babies and they stared at her. Travis began to wiggle and make a frown face.

“Now, don’t you start,” she said, pointing her finger at him. “You haven’t even given me a chance.” She set Tyler in the other stroller seat and dove into the diaper bag and struck gold. “A blanket,” she said. “You’re going to love this,” she said and spread it on the floor. Afterward, she set Travis on the blanket, followed by Tyler.

The boys looked at her expectantly.

“What?” she asked. “You’re free from the bondage of the stroller. Enjoy yourselves.” She narrowed her eyes. “Just don’t start crawling or anything. Okay? Let’s see what else is in the bag.”

Unfortunately, not much. She used up the small container of Cheerios within the first fifteen minutes and fifteen minutes after that, both boys had lost interest in the small set of blocks. She pulled out a musical toy and helped them work that over for several minutes.

Peekaboo killed a few more minutes, but then Bridget started to feel a little panicky. She needed more snacks and toys if she was going to keep the little darlings entertained. Grabbing some blank paper from Ryder’s desk, she gave each boy a sheet.

Travis immediately put it in his mouth.

“Let’s try something else,” she said and crumpled the paper.

He smiled as if he liked the idea. Great, she thought. More paper. She crumpled a few sheets into a ball and tossed it at them. They loved that. They threw paper all over the room.

After a few more minutes, Travis began to fuss, stuffing his fist in his mouth.

“Hungry?” It would help so much if they could tell her what they needed. Luckily two bottles were also stuffed in the bag. She pulled out one and began to feed Travis. Tyler’s face crumpled and he began to cry.

“Great, great,” she muttered and awkwardly situated both boys on her lap as she fed them both their bottles.

They drained them in no time. Travis burped on her dress.

Bridget grimaced. A second later, Tyler gave her the same favor.

At least they weren’t crying, she thought, but then she sniffed, noticing an unpleasant odor. A quick check revealed Travis had left a deposit in his diaper.

Ryder opened the door to his office prepared for screaming, crying, accusations from Bridget. Instead the boys were sprawled across her lap while she sang a medical magazine to the tune of Frère Jacques. He had to admit it was pretty inventive. His office looked like a disaster zone with papers strewn everywhere and he smelled the familiar, distinct scent of dirty diapers. He must have wrinkled his nose.

She did the same. “I didn’t think it would be considerate to toss the diapers into the hallway, so they’re in the trash can. I bundled them up as best as I could.”

The boys looked safe and content. That was what was important. “It looks like you had a good time.”

“Not bad,” she said with a smile. “Considering my resources. You’re really not set up for babies here.”

“I can’t agree more,” he said and snatched up a few wads of paper. “What were you doing?”

“Playing ball with paper. It worked until Travis was determined to eat it.” She gingerly lifted one of the boys in Ryder’s direction. “So, when do we have our discussion?”

He tucked Tyler into the stroller and followed with Travis. Ryder was tempted to name a time next year but knew that wouldn’t be fair. Better to get it over with. “Tonight, at my house,” he said. “Do you like Chinese?”

“I prefer Italian or Mediterranean,” she said, frowning as she rose to her feet. “At your house?”

“It’s the one and only time I can guarantee for the foreseeable future.”

She sighed. “It’s not what I hoped for. How am I going to have your undivided attention?”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll go to sleep,” he said.

Four hours later, Bridget could barely remember what she’d said or eaten for dinner. The boys had taken a nap in the car on the way home and woken up cranky. She suspected they hadn’t gotten enough of an afternoon nap. Although she resented the fact that she wasn’t getting Ryder’s undivided attention during their discussion, she couldn’t really blame him. In fact, despite the fact that he was clearly a strong man, she could tell that caring for the twins was wearing on him. He loved them and would protect them with his life, but the man needed consistent help.

It was close to eleven before the twins truly settled down.

“I’d offer you a ride to wherever you’re staying, but I can’t pull the boys out of bed again,” he said, after he had made the trip up and down the stairs five times.

His eyes filled with weariness, he raked a hand through his hair. Her heart tugged at his quandary. The urge to help, to fix, was overwhelming. “My security is always close by. He can collect me. It’s no problem.”

“I keep forgetting you’re a princess,” he said.

“Maybe it’s the baby formula on my dress,” she said drily.

“Maybe,” he said, meeting her gaze. The moment swelled between them.

Bridget felt her chest grow tight and took a breath to alleviate the sensation.

“I’m sure you’re tired. You could stay here if you want,” he offered. “I have a guest room and bath.”

Bridget blinked. She was tired, but staying here? “I don’t have a change of clothes.”

He shrugged. “I can give you a shirt to sleep in.”

The prospect of sleeping in Ryder’s shirt was wickedly seductive. Plus, she was tired. “I’d like to get your nanny situation in order for you.”

“That would be a dream come true,” he said. “Everything I’ve done so far hasn’t worked.”

“There may be a fee for an agency,” she said. “I’m not sure how it works here. I’ll have to ask my sister.”

“I took the first and second suggestions that were given to me and they didn’t pan out. It’s imperative that I have excellent care for the boys.”

“I can see that,” she said. “But do you also realize that you will have to make some adjustments as time goes on? Later, there will be sports and school activities where parents are expected to attend.” Bridget remembered that neither of her parents had attended her school activities. Occasionally a nanny had shown up, but never her parents. “Have you figured out how you’ll address that?”

He frowned thoughtfully. “I haven’t figured out much. I haven’t had custody very long. It’s still a shock to all of us. I know the boys miss their mother and father, but they can’t express it. I hate the loss for them. And I’m not sure I’m such a great choice as a parent. I’ve been totally dedicated to my career since I entered med school. Add to that how I’ve been filling in for Dr. Walters and it’s tough. I don’t want to let down my residents or the twins.”

Bridget studied Ryder for a long moment. “Are you sure you want to step in as their father? There are other options. There are people who would love to welcome the boys into their—”

“The boys are mine,” he said, his jaw locking in resolution. “It may take me some time, but I’ll figure it out. The boys are important to me. I held them minutes after they were born. I would do anything for them. We’ve just all been thrown a loop. We’re all dealing with the loss of my brother and sister-in-law. I will be there for them. I will be.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll try to help you with your nanny situation.”

He paused and the electricity and emotion that flowed between them snapped and crackled. “Thank you.”

She nodded. “It’s late. I may need to borrow one of your shirts and I should talk to my security.”

“No problem,” he said, but the way he looked at her made her feel as if he’d much prefer she share his bed instead of taking the guest bed alone.

Bridget took a quick shower and brushed her teeth with the toothbrush Ryder supplied. Pushing her hands through the sleeves of the shirt he left in the guest bedroom for her, she drank in the fresh scent of the shirt. She climbed into bed, wondering what had possessed her to get involved in Ryder’s situation and she remembered all the things she couldn’t control or influence. Maybe, just maybe she could wave a magic wand in this one and help just a little.

It seemed only seconds after she fell asleep that she heard a knock at the door. She awakened, confused and disoriented. “Hello?”

“Bridget,” a male voice said from the other side of the door. “It’s me, Ryder.”

The door opened a crack. “I just wanted you to know I’m leaving.”

Her brain moved slowly. She was not at the hotel. She was at Ryder’s townhome. “Um.”

“The boys are still asleep.”

She paused. “The boys?” She blinked. “Oh, the boys.”

He came to the side of her bed. “Are you okay?”

“What time is it?”

“Five a.m.”

“Is this when you usually leave for work?”

“Pretty much,” he said.

“Okay,” she said and tried to make her brain work. “What time do they usually get up?”

“Six or seven,” he said. “I can try and call someone if—”

“No, I can do it,” she said. “Just leave my door open so I can hear them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Check in at lunchtime,” she said.

“I can do that,” he said and paused. “Did anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are when you’re half-asleep?”

Unconsciously, her mouth lifted in a half smile. “I can’t recall such a compliment.”

“Nice to know I’m the first,” he said, bending toward her and pressing his mouth against hers. Before she could say a word, he left.

Bridget wondered if she’d dreamed the kiss.

She fell back asleep for what must have been 30 seconds and she heard the sound of a baby’s cry. It awakened her like cold water on her face. She sat upright, climbed out of bed and walked to the boys’ room. She swung open the door to find Travis and Tyler sitting in their cribs and wailing.

“Hi, darlings,” she said and went to Travis. “Good morning. It’s a wonderful day to be a baby, isn’t it?” She saw a twisty thing on the side of the crib and cranked it around. The mobile turned and music played. “Well, look at that,” she said and touched the mobile.

Travis gave a few more sobs, but as soon as he looked upward, he quieted as the mobile turned.

Bridget felt a sliver of relief. “Good boy,” she said and went to Tyler’s bed and cranked up the mobile. Tyler looked upward and gave up his halfhearted cry, staring at the mobile.

Diaper change, she thought and took care of Travis. Then she took care of Tyler and hoisted both boys on her hips and went downstairs. She fed them, changed them again and propped them on a blanket in the den while she called her sister’s friend for a reference for the best nanny agency in Dallas. Three hours later, she interviewed four nannies in between feeding the twins and changing more diapers and putting them down for a nap. When they fussed at nap time, she played a CD more repetitious than her brother’s top-adviser’s speech on a royal’s duty. She’d heard that lecture too many times to count. The huge advantage to the babies’ CD was that it included singing. Bridget wondered if she might have been more receptive to the lecture if the adviser had sung it.

The second prospective nanny was her favorite. She received letters of reference on her cell phone within an hour and sent a generous offer that was immediately accepted. After she checked on the boys, she ordered a nanny/babycam. Next in line, she would hire a relief nanny, but right now she needed a little relief of her own.

Bridget sank onto the couch and wondered when her day had felt so full. Even at this moment, she needed to use the bathroom, but she didn’t have the energy to go. She glanced at herself, in her crumpled dress from yesterday with baby formula, baby food and liquid baby burp. That didn’t include the drool.

Crazy, but the drool was sweet to her. How sick was that? But she knew the twins had drooled when they’d relaxed and trusted her.

She laughed quietly, a little hysterically. Anyone in their right mind would ask why she was working so hard to find a nanny for a doctor with two baby boys. Maybe a shrink could explain it, but these days, Bridget had a hard time turning down a cause of the heart. And Ryder and the boys had struck her straight in the heart with a deadly aim. She hoped, now, that she would feel some sort of relief.

Leaning back against the sofa with her bladder a little too full, she closed her eyes. Heaven help her, this baby stuff was exhausting.

Ryder left the office early, determined not to leave Bridget totally in the lurch with the boys. Stepping inside the front door, he found Bridget, mussed in the most alluring way, asleep on his couch.

She blinked, then her eyes widened. “Oh, excuse me. Just a second,” she said, then raced down the hallway.

He listened carefully, automatically these days. A CD played over the baby monitor, but there were no other sounds. A double check never hurt, he thought, and strode upstairs to listen outside the nursery door.

Nothing. He opened the doorknob in slow motion and pushed the door open. Carefully stepping inside, he peeked into the cribs. Both boys were totally zoned out. He almost wondered if they were snoring but refused to check.

Backing out of the room, he returned downstairs to the den. Bridget was sipping from a glass of water.

“Are they still asleep?” she asked.

He nodded.

She grimaced. “I hate to say this. You have no idea how much I hate to say this, but we need to wake them or they’ll be up all night. And I’m not staying tonight.”

“Yeah,” he said, but he was in no rush.

“I hired a nanny. She can start Monday. I’ve also ordered a baby/nannycam for your peace of mind. The next step is hiring a relief nanny because the twins are especially demanding at this age. Well, maybe they will be demanding at every age, but we have to deal with the present and the immediate future.”

Ryder stared at her in disbelief. “How did you do that?”

She smiled. “I’m a fairy princess. I waved my magic wand,” she said. “Actually I got into the best nanny agency in Dallas, used my title, interviewed four highly qualified women in between changing diapers, selected one applicant, received references, blah, blah, blah and it’s done.” She lifted her shoulders. “And now I’m done.”

“I’m sure you are. In any other circumstance, I would invite you out to dinner for the evening.”

“Lovely thought,” she said. “But I feel extremely grungy. The opposite of glamorous. I’m going to my sister’s ranch for the weekend. You can call me next week about all the doctors you want to send to Chantaine.”

His lips twitched. “You don’t really think I’m going to sell out one of my residents for this, do you?”

“Sell out is such a harsh term,” she said with a scowl. “I believe it’s more accurate that you’re giving them an opportunity for hands-on experience in a beautiful environment with a compensation that allows them to concentrate on treatment rather than their debt.”