ScandalWithaPrince

by Nicole Burnham

  The drive back to the hotel felt like an out-of-body experience, as if she were watching the rush hour traffic from afar rather than sitting in it, waiting for lights to change and cars to move.

  Once in her suite, she packed a bag for herself in two minutes flat.

  It wasn’t until she entered Anna’s empty bedroom and pulled her daughter’s backpack from the closet that Megan allowed a tear to roll down her cheek without attempting to blink it back. She sat on the edge of Anna’s bed and looked around the room as she tried to think through what to bring to the hospital. The bedsheets were askew and the room held the lingering scent of Anna’s favorite strawberry lotion. A jeweled hairbrush rested on the room’s small desk beside a pile of ponytail holders and a shell Anna had found on the beach.

  Set off by itself, carefully displayed beside her alarm clock, was the small leather bracelet Stefano bought Anna from the street kiosk during their first Saturday outing.

  Another tear followed the first. Then Megan couldn’t stop.

  * * *

  Stefano woke with a start to unfamiliar surroundings. He blinked in the semi-darkness, attempting to separate the last vestiges of his dream from the reality around him.

  Frequent business trips out of Sarcaccia meant he’d been in this situation before, lying on his back and taking few moments to figure out which city and hotel he was in and what was on his schedule for the day, but it’d never happened while wrapped in his own sheets, with the gray digital light of his own alarm clock beside the bed.

  To his left, moonlight streamed in through wide, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Mediterranean. City lights sparkled on hillsides that rose on either side of a softly lit marina, reminding him where he was. He pushed to a sitting position and took in the familiar panorama of Cateri’s waterfront. Though he’d been asleep less than an hour, he smiled to himself in the dark.

  New apartment. A new start. He’d brought only the essentials from the palace, limiting himself to toiletries, linens, a few days’ worth of clothes, and his computer. He’d ordered a few basic pieces of furniture rather than peruse the selection in the palace’s storage rooms, craving modernity over the centuries-old antiques with which he’d been raised.

  Beautiful though it was, the spacious apartment wasn’t his ideal. He’d much rather wake to find Megan beside him. But if he couldn’t have her, at least he could have the gift she had given him—normalcy—and embrace it. It might take awhile for the people of Sarcaccia to accept that he lived outside the palace, perhaps longer for the paparazzi to get bored as they watched him come and go each day and decide they were better off covering other stories, but he knew in his gut this was where he wanted to be. In the new section of the city, rather than the medieval section his ancestors had settled, in an apartment any of his friends might own—all right, larger than most of his friends might own, since he’d purchased the entire top floor of the building—within walking distance of shops, cafes, art galleries, and the waterfront, rather than the age-old palace. He could even walk to the new convention center and the transportation hub currently under construction alongside it.

  A muted light on the dresser across the room caught his eye, followed by a soft hum. Flinging back the sheets, he crossed the hardwood floor to retrieve his cell phone.

  “Yes?”

  His secretary’s voice came over the line. “Your Highness, I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour, but you asked me to let you know immediately if I heard from Megan Hallberg. She called the palace and insists on speaking to you, despite the hour. The night answering service put her through to me. I have her on the other line.”

  “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

  Adrenaline woke him fully as he waited. Finally, he heard the click of the connection. “Megan?”

  “Hi, Stefano. I’m sorry to call so late.”

  The forced steadiness in her voice sent a chill along his spine and pricked the fine hairs at the back of his neck. “Something happened.”

  “Yes. It’s Anna.” Her voice cracked as she explained, “I’m with her at the hospital.”

  His world seemed to spin off its axis. “What’s going on? Is it serious?”

  The question was rote. He already knew the answer. Megan wouldn’t call for a scraped knee or broken pinkie finger. Hell, she hadn’t called at all since he’d left Barcelona. Their only contact had been via Anna, when he’d called to hear about her last day of school and Anna mentioned that Megan was in another room on a work phone call.

  “It’s serious.” He sensed her steadying herself. “She was mumbling to herself when she woke up this morning. I went in to check on her and she wasn’t herself. She had a high fever, complained of neck pain, and didn’t seem able to hold a coherent thought. I brought her straight to the hospital and they admitted her.”

  Bile rose in his throat as he recognized the symptoms. How many times had he visited hospitals and heard stories from doctors and nurses about treating stubborn cases? He sat on the end of his bed, steadying himself for what he suspected would come next. “She has meningitis, doesn’t she? That’s what they think.”

  “Yes. The doctor suspected it when I first saw him this morning, but I just got the official diagnosis a few minutes ago.” She paused, then on a deep breath said, “I know you’re mad at me for hiding the job offer, Stefano, but…but I had to call you as soon as it was confirmed. There was an answering service at your number, so I insisted they let me talk to your secretary. I wasn’t sure they would. She said you weren’t at the palace—”

  “I’m not.” Stefano put a hand to his forehead and rubbed his thumb against his temple, as if by doing so he could will away what was happening to Anna. “Mad, that is. Or at the palace. I told my assistant to let me know if you called, day or night.”

  “Thank you. I…Stefano, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been so scared in my life.” On that, she broke, unable to stop him from hearing her tears. “I mean, she seemed fine last night when she went to sleep. A little run down, but nothing worrisome. Then she woke up in terrible shape. I didn’t know what to think other than knowing I had to get her to the hospital. Wait. How…how did you know it was meningitis?”

  Because when I was seven, I met a boy with meningitis who later died.

  “I’ve spent a lot of time visiting pediatric wards and talking to doctors,” he said. “Part and parcel of my job. Over the years, you see it all.”

  He pushed away the image that scarred his young soul to focus on Anna and what could be done in the here and now. “Who’s treating her? What do they say?”

  “His name is Dr. Serrano.” She gave him information on the hospital and all the details of Anna’s situation, everything from her current vital signs and bloodwork to the doctor’s assessment of the infection raging through Anna’s small body. Megan finished with a description of the course of drugs being used to treat her.

  “Now I have to call my parents and tell them. They’ll want to fly over, but since they were here last month I doubt they can afford another set of plane tickets.” A feeble laugh escaped her. “I’ll have to convince them that it’s better for them to stay where they are. It’s not like there’s anything they can do. Anna’s getting wonderful care, but now it’s a matter of waiting to see how she responds to the drugs.”

  “Did Dr. Serrano give you any indication how long it’d be?”

  “We’ll know more in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” On an exhale, she said, “Watching her makes me feel so helpless, Stefano. I wish there was more I could do. I have a horrible feeling in my gut that I’m failing her.”

  “You’re not. Hold tight and tell her I love her. I’ll do what I can on this end.”

  “There’s nothing to do, Stefano, not until we know if the drugs are working. But thank you.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Megan? I’m glad you called to tell me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of not telling you. Even if I know it’s not something you w
ant to hear.”

  “All the same…thank you. Keep me updated, all right?”

  She promised, then hung up.

  He dropped the cell phone to the bed and stared out the window for several minutes, wracking his brain for what he could possibly do. His gut instinct to control an uncontrollable situation, or so Megan would say.

  Finally, he picked up the phone and started flipping through his contact list.

  He might not have been there to assist at Anna’s birth, but he’d be damned if he’d sit idly by and let her die.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Anna wasn’t improving.

  Thirty-six hours after she’d been admitted, fever still ravaged her body. She’d been conscious for a while, but that was nearly six hours ago. Megan had been permitted in the room, wearing scrubs and a mask as she leaned over the bed and talked softly to Anna, letting her know that the doctors were taking good care of her and that she’d be back to herself soon.

  While she’d managed to display an upbeat attitude for Anna, even drawing a weak smile from her daughter, Megan felt like a liar. She had no more power over what was happening to Anna than she did over the sunrise and sunset.

  It had taken everything in Megan’s power not to cry when Anna’s eyes drifted closed once more. Instead, she’d thanked the nurses for all they were doing and gave them space to work.

  A nurse stuck her head into Megan’s room. In broken English, she offered to bring Megan a cup of coffee from the cafeteria.

  Megan thanked her but declined. She’d had so much coffee since her arrival her stomach ached. Or maybe that was stress. She’d hardly left the small room adjacent to Anna’s. Though she deeply appreciated having the ability to monitor Anna, the four walls seemed to be closing in on her. Even the television mounted to the wall provided little distraction. The English news channel the nurse found for her after Megan gave up on a Spanish soap opera left her feeling maudlin. Stories about stock markets and foreign elections weren’t exactly mood boosters.

  Fingers interlaced, Megan stretched her arms in front of her, then over her head before pushing out of her chair to cross to the window. Anna was still out cold, lying on her back with an IV hooked up to one arm while monitors beside the bed ticked off her vital signs.

  She swooped a hand over her head. She needed to call her parents and Stefano with an update soon, even if she had no real news to share. Her parents would offer their prayers and say what they could to make her feel better. But there’d be fear in their voices as they did so.

  She had no idea about Stefano.

  Though he’d been glad she’d called last night and had asked some pointed questions about Anna’s condition, and had finished by saying he’d do what he could, he’d hung up on her soon after she’d said there was nothing to be done.

  He said that he loved Anna. That was all she could ask.

  You didn’t trust him to love you.

  Megan bit her lip. While Stefano both angered and hurt her when he walked out, the last thing she should be thinking of now was her relationship with the man. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him when she’d kept the folder stashed away. She’d been scared. What if he’d seen the contents and thought she’d pursued the job without so much as considering a life with him? Or, worse, what if he’d panicked at the sight of the photo as Santi had and decided to stay away?

  In the end, keeping the information from him caused precisely the result she feared.

  She leaned her forehead against the cool glass that separated her from Anna. She shouldn’t have been afraid of an open discussion with Stefano. He’d shown over these last couple of months that he’d care for her, he’d protect her, he’d encourage her in everything. True, he’d questioned some of her parenting decisions, but in the end, he’d listened and been willing to see things from her perspective. She should’ve trusted that he’d listen with an open mind when she explained how she’d gotten both the job offer and the photo. That they’d discuss the ramifications together.

  She smiled, picturing the way Anna launched herself into his arms for a hug before going to her last sleepover at Julia’s. Unabashed joy radiated from his face as well as from Anna’s. She could only imagine how utterly enjoyable life under the same roof might’ve been for the three of them. And no doubt, during the times they were alone, she and Stefano would’ve had an off-the-charts sex life. The biggest risk she faced was that he might not love her as deeply as she loved him. But didn’t every marriage carry that risk? There were never guarantees, in any marriage. She shouldn’t have been scared.

  On the other hand, the possibility she could lose Anna forever scared her all the way to her bones. She stared at the small, fragile body in the bed on the other side of the glass. With each passing minute Anna remained unconscious and feverish, that possibility became more and more real.

  Dr. Serrano’s low voice floated to her from the hallway, causing her to straighten. She couldn’t understand his rapid-fire Catalan, but she gathered he was discussing Anna’s case with the nurses. He’d visited Anna’s room a half-hour ago, but left to take a phone call from another doctor before he could give Megan an update.

  While she respected that Dr. Serrano had other patients and medical professionals who needed his attention, a selfish part of her wished he could’ve waited until after he’d shared what he planned to do next for Anna. The lack of information wore on her more as much as the lack of sleep.

  At long last, the doctor rounded the corner and entered her room. He apologized for the delay in visiting her with an update, then gestured for Megan to take a seat so they could talk. Megan was too agitated and nervous to respond. Her jaw shook as she sent prayers skyward for Anna.

  Once she was seated, Dr. Serrano dropped his clipboard on the bed, then sat beside it and leaned forward, his dark eyes filled with concern.

  “She hasn’t gotten any better, has she?”

  “No, which is a bad sign. By now, the antibiotics should have had some effect. In fact, I’m becoming concerned about the potential for swelling around her brain.” Megan’s throat constricted as she absorbed the impact of Dr. Serrano’s words. “However, I do have some good news.”

  “Yes?” She’d take anything at this point.

  “There is a Canadian doctor—a Dr. Jenkins—who is the foremost authority in the world on bacterial meningitis. By good fortune he is at a medical conference in Madrid this week. I’ve spoken with him on the phone about Anna’s case. He has some ideas about the next steps to take, though he would like to evaluate her himself first. We can have him here this evening with your permission. With his expertise” —he cringed slightly at his mangled pronunciation of the word— “I believe we can give Anna a fighting chance. More than a fighting chance.”

  How much did she adore Dr. Serrano right now? She shouldn’t have begrudged him an instant of the time he took before he came in to update her. The man was an angel. “Anything that will help, you have my permission to do. And as soon as possible.”

  The doctor stood. “In that case, I will call him back right away.”

  “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.” She stood and clasped his hand. “I’m so grateful that you thought to call him and convince him to leave his conference to come see Anna.”

  “You are quite welcome,” he replied. “However, Dr. Jenkins called me.”

  “He did?” Megan frowned as she released the doctor’s hand. “But how could he—”

  “A friend of yours knew of Anna’s condition and called Dr. Jenkins asking for advice. When your friend mentioned that you live in Barcelona, the doctor called me and offered to come from Madrid if I wanted him to consult on Anna’s case. I told him it would please me a great deal to have his assistance, but that I wished to speak with you first.” Dr. Serrano raised an eyebrow. “Whoever your friend is, they must have a great deal of influence. That call for advice very well may save Anna’s life.”

  Stefano. It couldn’t be anyone else. Her heart swelled w
ith gratitude.

  “Even so, I really appreciate all you’re doing for Anna. She’s very lucky to have you.”

  The doctor smiled before leaving Megan alone once more, with only the drone of a television infomercial to keep her company. She returned to the window, but Anna appeared as she had all afternoon. Still, pale, and quiet.

  Megan let out a ragged breath and told herself for the millionth time that afternoon that everything would be all right. Everything possible was being done to help Anna’s recover. Allowing herself to think otherwise wouldn’t help Anna one iota.

  Across the room, a low buzz came from her purse. After calling in sick to work again this morning—she couldn’t bring herself to tell Ramon how bad things were with Anna, knowing he’d rush to the hospital and half the hotel staff would follow in his wake—she hadn’t checked her cell phone. The messages were likely piling up. May as well distract herself dealing with them until Dr. Jenkins arrived. Rather than sit in the chair she’d occupied all day, she flopped on her back on the bed and thumbed the phone’s power switch to reveal a new text message from her mother.

  Thank you for tix. You shouldn’t have. Will see you shortly.

  Megan did a double take. Tickets? What tickets?

  The message had to be meant for someone else. Her parents frequently enjoyed attending movies with the next door neighbors. Perhaps the neighbors bought tickets in an effort to get the Hallbergs’ minds off their sick granddaughter. She’d bet anything the neighbors’ phone number was right next to hers on her parents’ speed dial.

  As Megan started typing a response, a second message appeared on the screen.

  Car service just arrived at the house. Flight in three hours. We’ll be there tomorrow morning. Love you, sweetheart. Kiss Anna for us.

  She paused with her thumbs over the screen. The message was definitely meant for her. But how in the world—?

  Stefano. It had to be Stefano. He’d bought plane tickets for her parents so they could be by Anna’s side.