Doctor Raoul's Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

examination she had come to dread. She had had so many of them, in the last months. And always the result was the same.
    The specialist was six feet tall. His hair w as exactly the color of ripe corn and he a llowed it to curl riotously over his head. And one knew at once that this was not from vanity, but because he saw no point in forcing hair to stay flat when nature had intended otherwise. But it was cut short and well combed.
    His eyes were gray, and at first sight hard. His nose was long and straight, flaring a little at the nostrils. His mouth was firm, but its full underlip made it appear unexpectedly sensuous. His chin was square, his jawbone like a boxer’s. Yet there was humor in the face: in the lines about the eyes, perhaps, or in the little hollow at the corner of his mouth, where a girl would have claimed a dimple, or perhaps in the slightly quizzical tilt of his head.
    This was a man, Adrien decided, who questioned everything, who took nothing on trust. A man who would test things for himself.
    Adrien realized she had been staring at him; she had hardly heard Nicholas’s introduction. When Blanche had rushed into Gillian’s room and told her that the specialist wanted to see the nurse before he saw the patient, and that he was “out of this world,” she had expected something unusual, but hardly this.
    She forced her eyes away from his face. The moment she had done so, she realized he had been staring at her too—glaring at her, rather, with very evident disapproval.
    He seemed very young to be a specialist. He couldn’t possibly be more than thirty-five. Thirty-six? Then suddenly he was speaking. His English was perfect, but with a slight, undeniably fascinating accent. But his words made her, in spite of her resolution, in spite of her training, flush scarlet with anger.
    “You are a nurse, mademoiselle? Why are you not in uniform, may I ask?”
    She raised her chin, and looked at him defiantly.
    “I am not wearing uniform, Doctor, because Mr. Renton particularly asked me not to. He said his wife was tired of ‘medical formality.’ ”
    Had she imagined it, or was there actually a twinkle in this awe-inspiring specialist’s eye ?
    He said, “When I am in charge of a case, I like the proper procedure to be observed. This is not because I am stuffy or conventional, Nurse Grey, but simply because I consider a uniform is the most suitable apparel for an attendant in a sickroom. I have discovered, from experience, that a uniformed nurse is more efficient. However, this is not as yet my case. My apologies.” He smiled at elderly Dr. Lerouge, who seemed to be trying to keep his face noncommittal, and consequently looked rather like an owl. “Shall we go to the patient now?”
    The specialist bowed politely, allowing the practitioner to precede him as they followed Adrien up the stairs. Nicholas came last. Looking back, Adrien saw him, his face pale, his hand dragging against the banisters.
    “Nicholas...” she thought. “Oh, Nicholas!” She longed to go back for him, to walk beside him, to take his hand.
    “Much this damned specialist cares!” she thought rebelliously. “This is just a case to him. An interesting, unusual case. His eyes will light up when he sees Gillian’s symptoms. He’ll be planning a sensational article for a medical magazine. He may be clever, but he just isn’t human. He isn’t human at all.”
    They had arrived at Gillian’s room.
    Adrien opened the door of the invalid’s room, and they all filed in. Smiling and composed, Gillian sat up to welcome them. She held out her hand, determinedly frivolous.
    “Dr. Dubois—how very nice of you to come.” She might have been welcoming a guest to a party. “But you won’t knock me about too much, will you? I feel very fragile today.”
    Adrien was astonished to see how the doctor’s manner changed now that he was with his patient. The gray eyes softened. “Like the sea,” thought Adrien, suddenly, unwillingly .