by Ember Casey
I give him a small nod. Given his odd behavior, I’m fairly sure his head injury is significant, though I would have no way of knowing for sure. His behavior has been pretty odd since he arrived and I don’t have much else to compare it to.
“If I remember my first aid training correctly, someone will need to monitor me overnight. Isn’t that correct, Doctor?”
I see all too well where this line of questioning is going and I roll my eyes again. “Yes, that is correct, Your Highness. I’m sure the nurses at the hospital in Santa Rosa will enjoy getting to know you as much as I have over the past few days.”
Leo shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere, Doctor.”
“You don’t have a choice, Your Highness.”
He grins. “Forgive me, Doctor, but I believe I am allowed to refuse to be transported, am I not?”
I open my mouth to respond—to tell him how insane he’s being, which only proves my theory of a head injury—when the door to the treatment area swings open. Owen has finally returned, but his friend is nowhere to be seen. It only takes a moment before I see what has taken him so long to get back here. His inappropriate giggling should have been the first giveaway, but I can also see how bloodshot his eyes are now. “Sorry, dude, I got back as quick as I could.”
I let out an exasperated breath. Leave it to my brother to get high when I ask him to do something—even when it’s something as important as this. “Did you bring the car?”
“Oh, shit. I knew I forgot something…” He grins at me. “Sorry, man.” The way he stumbles forward tells me he likely downed a few shots while he was gone, too.
“Go home, Owen. And come back tomorrow so I can check your stitches.”
He laughs. “You got it, dude.” He turns and stumbles back through the doorway.
As soon as he’s exited, Leo turns his attention back to me. “It looks like you’re stuck with me.” He grins again.
Matthias walks back around the curtain. “I, too, should be going, now that I know you’re safe with the doctor.” He gazes over at Leo with loving eyes. “I’ll need to inform your father of this evening’s events.” He frowns. “I don’t know how to bestow enough apologies, Your Highness.”
The cocky grin falls from Leo’s face. “No apologies are necessary, Matthias. Please assure my father that I’ll be fine and that I’m in capable hands.”
The man nods and walks out before I can tell him I should monitor him overnight, too, as long as we’re all staying up to watch head injuries in the clinic tonight.
I turn back to Leo. “You really should go to the hospital. You need a head CT—you should probably have an ultrasound of your belly, too. And a neck x-ray—”
“I’m fine, Doctor. I assure you.”
I shake my head. “You don’t understand. I can’t even check your blood pressure—I don’t have an adult-sized cuff and—”
He reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me over to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. “I don’t think you understand, Doctor. I have no intention of going anywhere tonight.”
Leo
This isn’t how I expected my first night alone with Elle to come about, but I can’t say I regret that circumstances brought me here.
It’s a shame Matthias had to suffer, though. The poor fellow has always been so loyal to my family and me, and I hate to see him upset—and hurt—when he was only following my father’s orders. Why didn’t he tell me he was under strict instructions to keep me within his sight at all times? Yes, I would have argued against such ridiculousness, but at least I wouldn’t have thrown a rock at the poor man.
But Matthias seems to be fine—just shaken—and now my attention is entirely on the woman in front of me.
“We really need to figure out a way to get you to the hospital,” she tells me again. She crosses her arms—trying to be firm with me, I suspect—but her eyes tell a different story. I saw the way her gaze traveled over my chest when she was cleaning my wound.
“Enough of this nonsense,” I say. “You can see for yourself that I’m fine.”
“If you’re fine, then maybe you should go back to La Playa.”
My mouth curls up. “You are the doctor. If you feel confident that I’m well enough to be released, then I’ll let that responsibility settle on your shoulders.”
She shakes her head at me and rubs one hand across her eyes. “I should let you go so you can deal with the consequences. Maybe then you’d learn your lesson.”
“Come, now. We both know you’re too good of a doctor for that. You’d never willingly leave a patient to suffer.”
To my surprise, she doesn’t try to argue my point—and considering I truly meant it as a compliment, I’m pleased she’s willing to accept the truth of my words.
“Fine. You can stay,” she says. “But I swear, if you try one inappropriate thing, I’m sending you back to La Playa and letting Owen deal with you.”
“Hm,” I say, grinning. “I suppose he might have a few ideas about how I might self-medicate my pain away.”
“If Owen tries to give you anything I’ll kill him.” But then her face softens slightly. “Are you in a lot of pain? Do you need something?”
In truth, my entire body aches. I suspect I’ll have some nasty bruises by tomorrow. My head throbs slightly, and the wound on my chest stings. But it’s nothing unbearable.
“I’ll survive,” I tell her.
Her eyes are serious. “Any pain in your head or neck? I need you to be honest with me.”
“Just a little ache in my head. Nothing terrible,” I tell her.
Her brow wrinkles, but when she speaks, she is talking more to herself than to me. “I don’t like head pain…” She bites her lip, as though she is thinking to herself.
I understand her apprehension, and though a part of me enjoys the thought of her fussing over me all night, I don’t want to worry her so much that she tries to send me off to the hospital again.
“Some water might help,” I tell her cheerfully. “And I wouldn’t refuse an aspirin, though I’d certainly continue to survive without one.”
She’s still chewing on her lip, probably considering her options, as she nods and goes to retrieve what I requested. When she returns a moment later, she seems to have made up her mind about something.
“I need you to tell me the moment something changes,” she says. “If your head pain gets any worse, or if your vision starts to get blurry. And if you feel even the slightest bit of anything in your neck—”
“I’ll alert you immediately,” I say, taking the medicine and the bottle of water from her. “I promise.” It looks like she’s resigned herself to the fact that I’ll be staying here for the night.
She’s frowning again, and I notice her eyes have dropped once more to my bare chest. When she glances up and sees I’ve caught her staring, color rushes to her cheeks.
“You’re going to need a shirt,” she says.
“If you insist,” I tell her. “But honestly, I think I might be more comfortable like this. It is quite warm in here. And I’m not sure I like the idea of having any fabric weighing down on this.” I gesture at my wound. “Of course, if you find my bare chest distracting—”
“I’m not distracted,” she says. “I was trying to help.” Her cheeks grow even pinker. “Go ahead and take the aspirin.”
I do, and she turns and starts tidying up the room, including the gurney where she’d been seeing to Matthias. My eyes follow her as she moves, and I wonder if she realizes how graceful she is, even doing something as simple as this. After a few minutes, she seems to realize I’m watching her, and she turns, looking suddenly self-conscious.
“It’s rude to stare,” she tells me.
“I wasn’t staring. I was admiring.”
That almost earns me a smile as she rolls her eyes. “Try to keep it in your pants, Your Highness.”
“If you insist. But that is really no fun at all.”
She ignores my comment. “I guess I shou
ld get you something to eat if you’re going to be here all night.”
There’s only one thing I’m hungry for now—but I doubt Elle is offering herself up as part of the menu.
She returns with a loaf of bread, a jar, and a knife.
“I hope you’re okay with peanut butter sandwiches,” she says.
“I suppose I can give it a try,” I say. “I’ve never had peanut butter before.”
She blinks at me. “You’ve never had peanut butter?”
“It’s a very American food,” I say. “You won’t find it in most places in Europe. And my family’s chefs never thought to use it in any of their recipes.”
“Well, I hope you like it, because it’s all I have at the moment.” She spreads some of the peanut butter on the bread, folds it into a sandwich, and tries to hand it to me.
“Ladies first,” I say. “I can make my own sandwich.”
“You’re injured,” she says. “Take the damn sandwich.”
“If you insist.” I take the offered sandwich and grin. “I think I might like having you here to take care of me.”
She gestures toward me with the knife. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m here to make sure you don’t die. That’s it.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, still smiling. “I’ve had all the ideas already. There aren’t any more to get.”
My little jest earns me an exasperated look, but she finishes making a sandwich for herself. When she’s done, she glances around for a place to sit and settles on the gurney opposite mine.
“There’s plenty of room over here,” I tell her.
“Thanks, but this is fine.” She nods toward my sandwich. “What do you think?”
I haven’t taken a bite yet, but I do so now. And then almost immediately take another.
“Peanut butter is delicious,” I say.
She smiles—one of the first genuine smiles I’ve seen from her. “I thought you might like it.”
“I love it,” I admit. “In my experience, most American cuisine has been…questionable. But this might change my opinion. I’m going to have to ask Matthias to look for some when he goes to get supplies.” At the thought of my valet, though, my mood drops. “Do you really think he’s going to be all right?” I’d never forgive myself if something happened.
“Hopefully, he’s smart enough to come back if he starts feeling worse,” she says. “I might check on him in a bit.” She nibbles at the crust of her sandwich but doesn’t seem particularly hungry. “What exactly happened out there? Why did you think someone was after you?”
It all seems so foolish now.
“When you’re a prince, there are always risks,” I say. “My country is very wealthy, and there are those who might try to kidnap me for ransom.” While other children in Montovia were learning how to get along with each other in the schoolyard, my siblings and I were taught how to handle certain political situations a member of the royal family might encounter. “And there are many dangerous creatures in the rainforest as well, and that’s not even considering the possibility of running into drug lords or general criminals who might decide to set upon a man walking by himself in the jungle. I’ve been trained to defend against such situations.”
She raises an eyebrow. “And did that training include falling down a steep slope to escape?”
“I never claimed to be particularly graceful. And I hit my target, didn’t I? Poor fellow.”
She shakes her head at me again, but she’s in a much better humor now. “Poor fellow is right. Being forced to follow you around the world and make sure you don’t get yourself into too much trouble.”
“I assure you he’s compensated quite well.”
She gives a short laugh. “You couldn’t pay me enough to make me even consider that job.”
“Come, now,” I say. “I’m not all bad. Surely you can think of at least one positive thing about me.”
She takes another bite of her sandwich, considering, but her eyes are bright with amusement as she looks at me. She’s playing along with the game.
“Well,” she says, “You seem to care genuinely for your valet.”
“Is that the only thing you can think of?”
She makes a show of thinking about it. “Your English is very good. And your Spanish didn’t sound half bad, either.”
“Most children in Montovia learn at least three or four languages going through school. That is hardly anything special. Really, Doctor—if those are the only positive things you can say about me, it’s no wonder you find me so distasteful.”
“You also dress well.”
“And you ruined one of my best shirts.” I glance down at my chest. “Though you seem to appreciate the new view much better.”
“First of all, you ruined your own damn shirt when you took that dive down the hill. And secondly, I don’t care one way or another about your chest. In fact, I’m perfectly neutral about it. But you’re very confident. There, I’ll give you that.”
“From some people, that might be a compliment. But I’m not sure it is, coming from you.” My sandwich is almost done, but though it’s quite delicious, I’ve become distracted by our conversation. “Come, Elle. Can you not name one real thing about me that you like?”
Elle
I sigh and look down at my half-eaten sandwich. I’m not hungry—the adrenaline rush of the past few hours has taken away any appetite I might have had, even though it’s way past dinner time. I chuck the thing into the wastebasket and stand, brushing the crumbs from my shirt.
He thinks I’m playing along with him, but what I’m concerned about is his head—people don’t lose consciousness for more than half an hour without some reason. He could very well have a brain injury, and I have no way of knowing because of the lack of equipment in this clinic. Keeping him talking seems like the best thing to do, considering he won’t go to the hospital and I don’t have any way to get him there even if he hadn’t refused. If his valet is smart, he’ll come back here with the car. And I’m still holding out hope that when Matthias makes his call to Montovia, Leo’s father will insist he’s examined by someone who can actually do something for him. Leo was so adamant about not going to Santa Rosa that the only thing I can do now is sit here with him and wait.
And I don’t like the quiver I’m feeling in my stomach, waiting for him to lose consciousness again so I can get him to the hospital with no argument this time. It’s hotter than hell in here, but I’m feeling a shudder of uneasiness in my spine, and it has nothing to do with him having his shirt off. I’ve dealt with difficult patients—and parents of patients—before. People who think they know better. But those people were all at least close enough to a real hospital to have been able to get help when the worst happened. Or in a place that at least has ambulances. Raul should be back with my car soon—and we’re going to have to rush to get Leo the help he’ll need if what I’m suspecting comes about.
I let out another long breath, trying to cover up the unease I’m feeling, and I shake my head at him. “I wouldn’t think someone like you would need someone like me to shower him with compliments.”
He grins. “Come now, Elle, everyone enjoys a compliment. And I’m merely asking if you can’t see at least something redeeming about me.”
“I already told you. You have great taste in clothes.” Heat rises in my cheeks at saying even that—especially thinking about how he looked in his shirt yesterday. The one I’m pretty sure he paid some tailor a huge chunk of money to custom make for his body. His very, very nice body—
“That is hardly a personal compliment, Elle.” His voice snaps me out of my momentary daydream.
I shake my head to myself again and try to gulp down whatever the hell that was—the stupid attraction to him I can’t seem to shake no matter what I do. But I can’t do this now. I need to be on high alert, at least until Raul returns with the car. There is no time to fantasize about his body or what I would very much like him to be doing to me with it.
Shit. I hav
e to stop that.
“I like your accent.” I tilt my head and smile again. “Happy?”
He chuckles and shoves the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. He’s eyeing the jar of peanut butter and I’m pretty sure he’s considering making himself another sandwich.
I grab the jar along with the bread and make a beeline for the counter across the room, putting it out of his reach. It’s not like I’m trying to be mean or anything, but I’ve seen what happens to people after head injuries, and I’m almost kicking myself for letting him eat in the first place. And not only because of the head injury—there’s a pretty good chance he could have some internal bleeding under the bruising I see starting to form on his chest and abdomen.
I walk back over to the gurney opposite him and sit back down to face him.
He tilts his head, confused. “Am I under a dietary restriction now, too, Doctor?”
“I…” I pause, unsure I should be telling him my suspicions. “I—”
He interrupts. “I realize your American peanut butter may not be the best choice if one is attempting to watch his caloric intake, but I hardly think we should be worrying about that today, should we?” He smiles and blinks a few times.
It’s so hard not to bend to his charms. Something about his formal manner combined with the accent is just so disarming. If he weren’t here in Rio de Campo for the reasons he is, I would have agreed to every suggestion he’s made to me over the past few days. And as much as I hate to admit it, I have no doubt I would have enjoyed an affair with him immensely—even if it was only a one-time or short-term thing.
I can’t believe I’m even thinking that. Two days ago, I had all but sworn off men. Today, though…
No. I remind myself he isn’t here to enjoy himself like one of the adventure tourists who stay at Owen’s resort. He’s here to check on his family’s clinic and to help the new doctor get his bearings. The new doctor who should be here tomorrow or the next day. My replacement—and there’s no doubt that once I’m gone, Leo will have forgotten all about me. I have nothing to offer him—I’m not the kind of woman he sees in his real life. The only reason he’s even speaking to me now is because of his duty to his family—and because I’m the only doctor within forty miles of this place.