One weekend in prague, p.1

  One Weekend in Prague, p.1

One Weekend in Prague
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One Weekend in Prague


  “Everybody needs reminding sometimes that time can be short,” Hanna said. “And that it’s important to make the most of it. Especially when you’re only going to be somewhere for a day or two.”

  Oh…man… He’d always been quite sure he was immune to being seduced. That he could stay completely in control at all times. It seemed that that assumption might be incorrect.

  And in this moment, Mac couldn’t have cared less.

  But he could see a flash of what looked like vulnerability in those amazing eyes. Because Hanna was offering an invitation that might be rejected?

  As if…

  He could take at least an element of control back, couldn’t he? And let her rest assured that her invitation was more than welcome. In his mind, it didn’t really matter who initiated that kiss because it seemed they both wanted it just as much as each other. As Hanna’s lips parted beneath his and he felt the exquisite touch of her tongue against his, Mac gave up overthinking any of this.

  There were no rules.

  Time was indeed short and they should both absolutely make the most of it.

  Dear Reader,

  I suspect every one of us has been affected in many ways by the global pandemic. I really miss the freedom to travel, but I’m also aware of how lucky I’ve already been to visit some of Europe’s most beautiful cities.

  One of my all-time favorites has to be Prague, and I realized I could go there again by writing a story that included not only the unique features of an astonishing city but its inherent romance as well. So that’s where Hanna and Mac meet—in front of the famous astronomical clock in the Old Town Square. They have their weekend in Prague. They also have a few days in Barcelona, which is another favorite for me, and then I swap Europe for New Zealand because the growing love between them is irresistible enough to cross the world for.

  Come traveling with Hanna and Mac. The journey, both actual and emotional, was such a pleasure for me to write and I really hope it will be just as much of a pleasure for you to read.

  With love,

  Alison xx

  One Weekend in Prague

  Alison Roberts

  Alison Roberts has been lucky enough to live in the South of France for several years recently but is now back in her home country of New Zealand. She is also lucky enough to write for the Harlequin Medical Romance line. A primary school teacher in a former life, she later became a qualified paramedic. She loves to travel and dance, drink champagne, and spend time with her daughter and her friends. Alison Roberts is the author of over one hundred books!

  Books by Alison Roberts

  Harlequin Medical Romance

  Two Tails Animal Refuge

  The Vet’s Unexpected Family

  Royal Christmas at Seattle General

  Falling for the Secret Prince

  A Surgeon with a Secret

  Unlocking the Rebel’s Heart

  Stolen Nights with the Single Dad

  Christmas Miracle at the Castle

  Miracle Baby, Miracle Family

  A Paramedic to Change Her Life

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Praise for Alison Roberts

  “Ms. Roberts has delivered a delightful read in this book where the chemistry between this couple was strong from the moment they meet…[and] the romance was heart-warming.”

  —Harlequin Junkie on Melting the Trauma Doc’s Heart

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM MENDING THE ER DOC’S HEART BY SUSAN CARLISLE

  CHAPTER ONE

  OH... HOW AMAZING WAS this?

  It was late enough to be dark on a summer’s night and Hanna Peterson was somewhere she’d never been before in her life. Somewhere so magical, the views from the taxi windows seemed like glimpses of a fantasy city as the driver negotiated busy roads and narrow streets to take them into the ancient centre of Prague.

  ‘I can’t believe this,’ she said, turning her head to where her best friend, Jo, was sitting in the back seat of the taxi. ‘I feel like I’ve stepped into a fairy tale.’

  Everywhere Hanna looked, there was something astonishing. Lights gilded the spires of Prague’s famous castle on the hill and all the statues that guarded the length of the bridge leading over to that side of the river. There were cobbled streets and squares and every building looked unique. Dramatic in their extravagant architecture, mysterious in their antiquity and, oh, so romantic with their myriad rooflines of steep slopes and domes and spires stretching into the night sky.

  ‘Mmm...’ But Jo wasn’t looking out of the windows right now. She was resting her head on the shoulder of the man sitting beside her, gazing up adoringly at her new husband, Cade. ‘Me, too...’

  Hanna shook her head. ‘I also can’t believe I’ve crashed your honeymoon. I feel like the biggest gooseberry ever.’

  Jo sat up. Slowly. In the last trimester of her pregnancy, the long international flight had been more uncomfortable than usual. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘You’re not on our whole honeymoon. We just happen to be all going to the same conference for the weekend. Then Cade and I will go to the nearest beach where I’ll lie there like the beached whale I am for another day or two and you’ll go off on one of your adventures.’ She put her head back on Cade’s shoulder. ‘Anyway, this could be seen as a babymoon instead of a honeymoon.’

  Cade laughed. ‘Wouldn’t you have a babymoon after the baby arrives, like a honeymoon is after the wedding?’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Hanna grinned. ‘Nobody gets a holiday after a baby arrives. You’ll be dreaming of having one. For years and years and years...’

  It was easy to tap into the jokes. The ones that emphasised that Hanna had never wanted kids. Or a husband, for that matter, because they tended to want the ankle-biters that stopped you going on holidays.

  Mind you, she’d never seen Jo look this happy. She’d been the bridesmaid and witness at the private wedding ceremony, just a few days ago, on a beach near Dunedin in the South Island of New Zealand and, despite the incredibly long journey to get to this part of Europe and how tired Jo had to be, she was still glowing with the joy of it all.

  Hanna turned back to stare out of the window again, partly because she didn’t want to miss anything but it was also to distract herself from that twinge of something she didn’t like.

  Envy? Surely not. But there was something niggling deep down that was disturbing and it had started when she’d been standing on that beach, watching Jo and Cade exchange vows. It seemed to get slightly sharper edges every time she caught the way they looked at each other, too, so maybe it was best to keep looking at the enticing view outside. She’d be able to appreciate it even more tomorrow when she went on that walking tour she’d booked online as soon as she’d known she was coming here.

  The tour was the only thing Hanna had booked for the next three weeks, apart from her flights. She’d always loved to follow her nose and make impetuous decisions when it came to travel because the very best discoveries and adventures could be found that way. And, if they turned out to be disappointing, she could just change her plans instantly and try something else. She hadn’t been on an overseas trip for more than a year and Hanna could feel the tendrils of a familiar and very welcome excitement flickering with enough strength to make that niggle disappear.

  Maybe this trip to Prague and whatever awaited her after the intensive two days at the conference was a timely reminder that being single and childfree was the ticket to the most amazing, memorable adventures. It always had been, after all.

  * * *

  Hamish MacMillan had unpacked his toilet bag but he took a moment to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

  His toothbrush was in the glass the hotel had provided on the shelf above the basin, wearing its plastic cap to keep clean, accompanied by toothpaste and floss. His hairbrush and comb were beside the glass. With a satisfied nod, Mac noted that his shaving kit was ready for use first thing tomorrow morning and walked back into the lavish bedroom in a rather wonderful hotel in the Old Town Square in Prague.

  His shirts hung neatly in the wardrobe already, along with a smart, pinstriped suit and a small selection of ties. The more casual clothing, which he could wear when he wasn’t being a keynote speaker at a prestigious international medical conference, could stay in his suitcase for now. Mac had a laptop bag with other things he needed to check before he could finally get to bed.

  Important things, like the USB stick that had the transcript and images that went with the presentation he would be giving to open this two-day conference on Emergency Medicine. It also had a folder containing all his arrangements for the holiday he had planned to fill in the week between this speaking engagement and the next one, which was in Paris. The prospect of a few days of some early summer warmth in Europe had been so much more appealing than flying back to his home in Scotland that had been closed up for over a year and would, no doubt, be about as inviting as walki
ng into an oversized refrigerator.

  It had been a pleasure to find a luxury bus tour where every detail of accommodation, transport and meals was prearranged. Mac would be able not only to enjoy exploring places he either loved or had never visited but also genuinely relax knowing that he could rely on the organisation skills of others to make sure everything would run smoothly.

  Registration instructions for the conference were also in the folder but the main desk wouldn’t open until tomorrow afternoon. That left an entire morning and Mac intended to make the most of it. He was on his first visit to a city with a fascinating history and he wanted to learn as much as possible but where would be the best place to start?

  Probably right here in front of his hotel, he decided, and the thought prompted him to abandon the plan to fire up his laptop and scroll through the conference programme to see what he might like to listen to. Instead, he went to the doors set inside the arched window of his room and stepped out onto the balcony. It was completely dark now but the square was humming with life. There were people walking, sitting on the steps of a huge, central monument and crowding outdoor restaurants and bars. The spires of ornate churches and facades of other buildings were bathed in spotlights and there were vehicles pulling up to hotel entrances.

  A taxi had just stopped in front of this hotel and Mac’s gaze caught briefly as he watched a man holding out his hand to help a woman from the back seat of the car. A rather heavily pregnant woman. A third passenger was already out of the car. Another woman, but this one was tall and slim and had a long braid of hair hanging down the line of her spine. There was something about her that caught his attention. Perhaps it was the way she seemed oblivious to her companions or the luggage the taxi driver was hauling from the boot. She was staring at something, utterly entranced. The churches? No...maybe it was that building almost directly opposite the hotel. The one with the chunky tower that had a crowd of people gathered in front of it.

  Mac didn’t need to hear the chiming of a clock to know what was happening. And a glance at his watch told him why people had gathered. He’d learned about the famous astronomical clock when he was no more than ten years old and he’d fallen totally in love with it. That clock had probably been the main incentive to accept the invitation to speak at this particular conference but it had been pushed firmly to the back of his mind as he’d dealt with the logistics of finding his hotel and unpacking.

  A curious sensation was growing in Mac’s gut as he took in the chimes fading and heard the faint sound of clapping and cheers from across the large square, but it took a moment to recognise that it might be excitement. A kind of excitement that made him a little nervous, to be honest, because memories of feeling like this told him that this feeling could morph into fear in a heartbeat. That the feeling that something amazing might be about to happen wasn’t to be trusted.

  The woman with the braid turned away from the view and looked up at the hotel. Mac knew she couldn’t see him but he could see her quite clearly. Clearly enough to see the expression on her face that told him she totally trusted that feeling. That she had absolute confidence that something amazing was already happening and that she was going to enjoy every moment of it.

  Mac found himself smiling as he went back into his room. He opened up his laptop but, instead of finding the conference programme to study, or the contact details of people he needed to liaise with for his own commitments to that programme, he typed a query into the subject line of the search bar.

  Tours that include the astronomical clock in Prague

  He clicked on one that promised to cover the main attractions of Prague in a two-hour period and chose the earliest time for tomorrow morning. It was a walking tour that started right in front of the clock, which sounded like a perfect way to start his day. Eight-forty a.m. seemed an unusually precise time to start a tour but that only made it more attractive and, with a satisfied nod, Mac booked himself in.

  * * *

  Hanna had to run across the square to make it in time because the lace on her most comfortable sneakers had broken. Fortunately, Jo was going to rest this morning, so she’d pulled a lace from one of her trainers and lent it to Hanna. Also fortunately, it was obvious who the guide was, because he was holding up a red flag with a white ‘W’ on it. Hanna arrived just in time to hear the middle-aged man explaining that the letter was not only because this was a walking tour but that his name was William.

  ‘Welcome to Prague, ladies and gentlemen. It will be my pleasure to introduce you all to the beautiful capital of the Czech Republic, also known as the City of a Hundred Spires. Prague is my home and my native language is Czech and, while this tour is in English, I’m also fluent in French and German. How many of you have English as your first language?’

  Hanna cast a quick glance around the group of about a dozen people, noting that only half of them were raising their hands along with her. A man at the front, who was very tall and had a commendably good posture, turned as if he was wondering the same thing and, weirdly, when he saw Hanna his eyes widened as if he recognised her.

  He must be mistaking her for someone else, she thought, because if she’d met him before she’d certainly remember it. It wasn’t simply his height or posture that would make him stand out in a crowd, he was immaculately dressed in a short-sleeved, open-necked white shirt and well-fitting khaki chinos and his face was...distinctive. A bit craggy, with deep lines from his nose to the corners of his mouth and eyes that—even at this distance and for only the space of a heartbeat—gave her the impression that he was examining whatever he could see with great care.

  Hurriedly, Hanna tuned back into what William was saying. ‘We are standing in the Old Town Square and, as I’m sure you’re all aware, we’re standing in front of one of the most popular tourist attractions in Prague—our medieval astronomical clock or the Prague Orloj.’ He checked his watch. ‘In fifteen minutes it will provide its animated hourly show of the apostles’ march and that gives me just enough time to tell you a few things about it. Let’s get a little closer so that we’ll have the best view.’

  William smiled at Hanna and she got the impression he’d seen her running across the cobbled square to get here in time. She smiled back as she moved with the group to stand as close as possible to both the clock and their guide. Hanna ended up at the front of the group on the opposite side to the tall man in chinos and she found her gaze drifting sideways shortly after William started talking again.

  ‘The clock was installed early in the fifteenth century,’ he told them. ‘Legend has it that, when it was completed, the clock maker was blinded by the city councillors to prevent him making a better clock for any other city. In return, it is said that he ended his life by throwing himself into the workings of the clock to damage it and he put a curse on anyone who tried to repair it. They say it didn’t work for a hundred years after that.’

  The grim story had certainly caught everyone’s attention but Hanna was still watching the man as he gave a slow nod, as if he thought that was fair enough, and Hanna found herself suppressing a smile. He was staring up at the large, ornate dials on the tower wall, clearly fascinated by what was obviously a mechanical and mathematical triumph, but Hanna wasn’t concentrating on what William was telling them about how the positions of the sun and moon were shown or which medallions represented months of the year. She was simply taking in the moment and letting that bubble of excitement in her belly grow, knowing that this was the first step of her new adventure.

  Which was probably why it took a moment longer than it might have to realise that something wasn’t quite right.

  ‘The four figures you can see at each side of the clock are representations of things that were the most despised.’ William was rubbing his forehead, his expression suggesting he was in pain. ‘The man on the left is...is admiring himself in a mirror. This is...’ William paused as if he’d forgotten what he was about to say and, when he did say something, it made no sense whatsoever.

  The prickle of awareness Hanna could feel was something that could only be developed from years of experience in dealing with medical emergencies. Something physical was interfering with William’s ability to think. It could be something like a very low blood sugar in a person with diabetes but the worst-case scenario would be that he was having a stroke where a blocked or burst blood vessel could be starting to cause catastrophic damage. That would explain him looking as if he’d had a sudden onset headache.

 
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