Page 7 of Trapped with the Undercover Prince

Chapter Two

Anna checked the tourniquetone of the paramedics had put around the woman’s broken leg. It was holding for now, but she was still losing too much blood too quickly, and her blood pressure was going down too fast.

The ambulance they were in turned a tight corner while she moved her stethoscope to find the baby’s heartbeat. She found it, but it was too slow.

Damn it, if they didn’t get her into an OR and the bleeding under control, they were going to lose both mother and child.

The ambulance slowed and rolled into a covered area. The back doors opened, and she hopped out with the paramedics and the stretcher. Medical staff from inside the hospital crowded her out and shouted questions at the medics.

They answered, nodding at her along with the words, Dr. Anna.

“Does anyone speak English?” she asked.

“Yes,” a couple of people answered.

“I’m a trauma surgeon. This woman is in labor, and I believe her right hip is dislocated. There is internal bleeding as well as additional significant bone injuries to her femur. She needs an immediate c-section and surgery to repair the internal damage to her leg.”

By the time she was finished speaking, they were inside the building and rolling down a hallway.

A middle-aged man at the head of their group made eye contact with her. “We’ve got an operating room prepped and ready with x-ray standing by to get us pictures as soon as the baby is out.”

A group of people dressed in surgical scrubs approached. A surgical team. One man stood out from the rest—he had a smile on his face.

“Dr. Anna Brown,” he said as the team took over the stretcher and moved through a set of double doors.

She followed. Maybe if she kept quiet and just followed them into the OR, no one would complain.

“We have never met,” the man said as he strode next to her. “But you saved my brother’s leg after the Boston Marathon bombing. We use the recording of that surgery as a teaching tool here.”

She remembered that leg. It had been damn near blown off. She had gone into that surgery ninety percent sure she was going to have to amputate.

“That is a case I will never forget,” she said. “Doctor...?”

“My apologies, my name is Dr. LeBlanc. Would you like to assist in the surgery of your patient?”

“Yes.” She didn’t bother trying to hide her relief. “I would very much like that.”

“Excellent, come this way.” He led her to a woman’s changing room, then explained where to go after that. “I will see you inside the OR.”

Anna began removing her backpack as soon as she got through the door. This would be a new experience, attending a surgery most likely conducted in a language she didn’t understand.

***

Anna walked out ofthe OR bleary-eyed, dead tired, but also drunk on success. In the change room, she stared at her bloody, dirty clothes for at least thirty seconds before deciding there was no saving her shirt and jeans. The staff at the hospital told her she could change into a clean pair of scrubs and keep them, and after another ten seconds of consideration, decided that’s what she’d do.

She’d earned a new outfit, but what she really wanted was a sandwich. And a cup of tea. And a bed. Yes, a bed would be really nice. One that had that delicious police officer, Zar, in it.

Wait, what time was it?

Anna looked at her phone. She’d been in the OR for more than nine hours? The fizz went out of her bloodstream. Damn it, her reservation at the hotel in Lerasia was in danger of being canceled. They had a strict no-show policy. If you didn’t arrive on the first day of your reservation, they canceled the whole thing.

But she did have a really good excuse. Maybe Dr. LeBlanc could give her a note?

She stumbled out of the change room and followed the signs that read “exit” in French: sortie. The hallway dumped her in what looked like a typical emergency room waiting area. Good. There was a high probability of a taxi hanging around.

She stepped out onto a narrow sidewalk and lifted one hand to wave at a taxi sitting across the parking lot.

“Excuse me, Dr. Anna?”

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