The Doctor Takes a Princess / Pregnant with the Prince's Child

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


www.millsandboon.co.uk

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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.”