by Tina Beckett
They released her, helping her to lie back on the pillows. The woman who’d been crying wiped her eyes with her sleeve and took a deep breath, patting the girl’s hand.
When she started to struggle to sit up, Chelsea laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘Stay still for just a few more minutes. Then I want to test your sugar again.’
‘W-where did they find you?’
Chelsea smiled. ‘You have your bodyguard to thank for that. I was eating in the restaurant, and he came and asked me to help.’ Demanded was more like it, but that was neither here nor there.
The girl’s glance went to the man as if she hadn’t noticed him standing there. Her eyes widened. ‘Hijab.’
‘What?’
‘My hair.’
Oh, she wanted her veil. ‘Here, I’ll get it.’
Leaning over her patient, she scooped up the red scarf and handed it to one of the women who tenderly wrapped it over the girl’s dark hair and tucked it around her throat.
Chelsea wanted to make sure the security man wasn’t in trouble for being in the room. ‘He saved your life.’
The young woman’s gaze swept past her to look at her bodyguard again. She said something in their native language. The man inclined his head. There was raw relief in his gaze.
But not because his job was safe. At least Chelsea didn’t think that was what the exchange was about, from the kindness in the girl’s voice.
The president’s daughter was precious to those in this room. Something she’d earned, rather than demanded. She hadn’t yelled at the bodyguard and told him to get out. She’d simply asked for her veil and allowed the other women to cover her.
Her attention swept back to Chelsea. ‘Thank you very much. For helping me.’
Time for that lecture. ‘You shouldn’t eat sugar. You know that, right?’
‘Yes.’ She licked her lips and this time sat up on the bed, making sure her dress covered her legs. ‘I know I shouldn’t. It just tastes so good.’
Her bodyguard spoke up in English. ‘You must listen to the doctor.’
A wash of pleasure slid over her at his words. Evidently he wasn’t mad at her for bossing him around after all.
Smiling at her patient, she covered her hand. ‘What tastes good isn’t always good for you.’ Her smile faded. ‘You were lucky they found you before it was too late.’
‘Yes. I see that now.’ She looked at each person in the room. ‘I’m sorry.’ She repeated the words in the other language.
Everyone started chattering at once. Some scolding, some laughing with relief. All the while her bodyguard stood off to the side, saying nothing.
Her bodyguard? As in Chelsea’s? Okay, surely her subconscious was mistaken. After all, she’d come to the hotel with another man.
Another man! Ugh. Marty.
Why on earth had she asked him to wait? She could have just thanked him for dinner and sent him on his way. She hadn’t been thinking clearly at the time. But she was now.
There was nothing to do but march back down to the restaurant and...
And what? Finish that awful, horrible date? No.
Her attention strayed to Earpiece Guy. A quick tingle went through her when she noted his eyes were on her. This time, one corner of his mouth curved all the way up, and he gave her a quick nod.
And what she saw on his face...
Was respect.
She drew herself up straight. She deserved better than someone like Marty. Deserved better than returning to that table and letting an egotistical jerk scold her about the cost of their meal—in a restaurant he had chosen. Probably hoping she’d be grateful enough to do more than simply dine with him.
Well, she wasn’t going to hurry back to the table like an obedient Labrador. She was going to stay here until she was sure her patient was stable. Then she was going to recommend Aidah visit her own doctor to make sure there’d been no permanent damage from this episode.
Another hour went by before she was confident the girl was back to normal, chatting with her about the sights in London she might want to see. Chelsea had to confide that she actually hadn’t seen as much of the city as she would have liked because of how busy she’d been at the hospital.
But that was going to change. There was no reason she couldn’t get out there and explore the city on her own. She was an independent woman. As much as she might hope to find love and have a family some day, there was no hurry. Better to experience more of life and figure out who she was before trying to decide on any one man.
Marty’s smug face went through her head. Otherwise she might end up with someone who’d make her life a living hell.
She gave the women instructions on what to watch for over the next several hours and asked them to please take her to her own doctor as soon as they could. Through Aidah’s bodyguard, they promised to do just that.
‘Thank you again.’ Her patient leaned up and kissed her cheek. ‘Please come back and see me.’
That was one promise she couldn’t make. It was doubtful she’d ever pass through the doors of the Chatsfield Hotel again. She was grateful to Marty for one thing. Bringing her here had blown away some of the dust that had gathered in her head about her future. About where she’d practice medicine.
She’d heard that fate never made a mistake. Maybe her being here wasn’t an accident. Maybe she’d been meant to arrive at just this moment in time. To help Aidah.
And to help herself.
‘Goodbye,’ she said to the girl. ‘Take care.’
With one final hug, she stood and headed for the door.
A low masculine voice came from behind her. ‘I’ll walk you to the lift.’
It would have been easy to say thanks but no thanks and tell him she could find it herself. But for some reason she wanted to say goodbye to him in private.
Why? They’d barely said fifty words to each other. She didn’t know. There was just something about him.
They slowly made their way down the hall, neither saying anything. The man had his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The beginnings of a five o’clock shadow covered his firm jaw, while his shoulders were hunched with some kind of tension.
She slowed her steps even more, but somehow they still wound up at the lift far sooner than she would have liked.
He pushed the button to call it up.
How exactly did you say goodbye to a man you wished you could have gotten to know a little bit better. She gave a soft sigh. Just do it.
‘Well, thank you for walking with me. I’m sure Aidah is grateful for your help.’
He leaned one shoulder against the wall and dragged his fingers through his dark hair, messing the strands.
She itched to smooth them back into place, but forced her arms to remain at her sides.
Another few seconds went by before he spoke. ‘I asked you if you had any weapons.’ His Adam’s apple dipped for a second. ‘You lied.’
The words shocked her into immobility.
She had an emery board in her purse as well as a tube of lip gloss and the keys to her flat, but other than that...‘I didn’t lie.’
The lift doors clicked open, and he moved his body to hold them in place.
‘Yes, Dr. Serrano. I think you did.’ Her breath caught in her throat when he reached out and dragged his knuckles in a slow gentle motion along the edge of her jaw, leaving fire in his wake. ‘But the weapon isn’t just the beauty of this face.’ He cupped her cheek and slid his thumb back and forth across her temple. ‘It’s also inside here. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.’
For one heart-stopping second she thought he meant to kiss her. Her lips parted, and she stared at him in wonder. Where had all this come from?
She licked her lips, and his glance traced the path her tongue had taken. His eyes darkened.
Before her thoughts could fully coalesce, he heaved a deep breath, a muscle working hard in his jaw. Then he lowered his hand and straightened, going back to the aloof stranger he’d been at
the beginning of this little adventure.
Her skin missed his touch far too much. If they’d met under different circumstances would he have asked her out?
Doubtful. They were from different worlds. He inhabited places like this hotel and the palaces of presidents. While she was most comfortable wandering the halls of a hospital, a stethoscope draped around her neck.
‘Thank you,’ he said, nothing but cool politeness in his words now. ‘For helping Aidah.’
‘Y-you’re welcome.’ She wanted to say something else. Anything, but the moment was gone. She stepped into the lift and he moved away from the opening.
Pushing the button for the ground floor, Chelsea watched as the doors slowly came together and blotted out his face. That was okay. Those last few moments would be burned into her memory for a long time to come.
And now she knew exactly what she had to do.
Chapter Four
Everyone was gone from the restaurant.
Except for Marty.
He sat at the table by himself. Their empty wineglasses littered the surface and the remains of his dinner were evident on his plate. It would seem he ate without her. She was glad. Glad she could just walk over, apologize for keeping him waiting, and be on her way.
His gaze came up and met her as she crossed the room toward him. His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed.
He was irritated. Well let him be!
The old Chelsea Serrano would have fallen all over herself to apologize for something over which she’d had no control. But not this time. She’d just saved the life of the Kenistanian president’s daughter, for heaven’s sake. On her own. With no help from him or anyone. And with it she’d discovered she’d been right about her life’s calling. She was born to be a doctor. To help people like her sister and Aidah. To make the world a better place.
Not only that, the most exciting man she’d ever met had just thanked her. Had blocked the door to the lift intimating she was someone special. She was beginning to believe him.
Marty remained seated. ‘I wondered if you were even coming back.’
‘I told you I would.’
He dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. ‘What was the big emergency, anyway?’
She didn’t want to tell him. This was for her and her alone. She didn’t want to share what had gone on in that room or between her and a certain bodyguard as they’d stood waiting for the lift to arrive. One thing was for sure, she and Marty were never going to see each other again after tonight. And she was going to make sure he knew it.
‘Nothing major. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. Doctor/patient confidentiality.’
‘Fine.’ He motioned toward the table. ‘I told them to hold your dinner in the back.’ She glanced around the empty space.
‘I think the restaurant is closed.’
‘So they’ll have to keep it open a little longer. It’s their job.’ He shrugged as if it meant nothing to force people to remain past their scheduled shift.
‘I don’t think so.’ She drew in a deep breath and gathered up her courage. ‘I appreciate the offer, and I’m truly sorry for keeping you waiting, but I think we’d both be wasting our time if we prolong the evening past this point. If you don’t mind, I’d rather just go home. I’ll be happy to pay for my portion of the meal.’
Doing that would probably cost her half a month’s salary, but it would be worth it just to be rid of him.
Marty sat very still for a minute, then he pushed his seat back and stood, dropping his napkin onto the table. A vein pulsed in his temple. ‘If you expect me to jump up and down over that offer, you’re very much mistaken. The way I see it, you should foot the bill for this entire fiasco. I do agree with you on one point, though. This was a big waste of time. Mine, to be exact. Next time, lady, you and your flatmate might want to take some lessons in dating etiquette.’
‘Oh really?’ Anger welled up within her. ‘I think you could afford a few lessons yourself. And not just in dating.’
She expected him to lash out with a few more choice words, but he didn’t. He simply turned on his heel and stormed toward the door, not leaving so much as a tip on the table.
Oh Lord. What a night.
She dropped into her chair. What was she going to do now? Picking up the wine bottle, she saw it was completely empty. She’d had one glass of it, which meant he’d downed the rest.
Was he even fit to drive? Well, he’d certainly seemed well aware of his surroundings. Enough to foist the cost of their meal right onto her plate. And hadn’t he used the word ‘fortune’ when he’d grumbled about her leaving the table to treat her patient?
Who knew what he’d even ordered? A meal that cost upward of a thousand dollars was something she couldn’t afford right now.
Don’t panic. She could charge it on her credit card and pay it off in small increments, if it came down to that.
The maitre d’ approached her table. ‘Are you ready for your meal, Madame?’ He scooped up the dirty plate and silverware.
That’s right. Marty had said they were holding it in the back.
It was just like him to have chosen her food, not bothering to wait to see if it was something she’d like. She smiled at the man. ‘What did he order?’
‘Cotswold chicken with girolle mushrooms. It’s quite tasty.’
It actually did sound good. And since she was paying for it...
‘I’m sure it’s wonderful.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Would you mind putting it a takeout box and then bringing the bill?’
He blinked. ‘I’m sorry?’
Did they not do takeout like they did in the States? ‘Is it possible to put it in a box so I can eat it later?’
‘Yes of course. I’ll get it for you right away.’
‘And then I just need the...um bill? Or do you call it a check?’
Understanding dawned on his face. ‘That’s already been covered.’
It was her turn to be surprised. ‘Covered?’ Maybe Marty had been bluffing, or just wanted to scare her. ‘By my date?’
‘No, Madame. By the Kenistanian president. He called just a moment ago and asked us to put the bill on his tab.’
The president had paid for their meal? ‘Oh, but that’s not necessary.’
The man raised his brows. ‘Would you like to tell him?’
Chelsea laughed. She could see his point. ‘No. If you talk to him again, would you tell him I expressed my gratitude?’
‘Yes, Madame. He sent his thanks as well.’
She paused for a second. ‘Was your night as unexpected as mine?’
This time, he did smile. ‘It was a very good night.’
‘Yes it was.’
Despite the scene with Marty at the end, she’d had a good time. Had felt alive and useful in a way she hadn’t in a very long time.
The man withdrew. As he opened the door on the far side of the dining room, a breeze swept through the space setting the crystals on the chandelier tinkling against each other. A spray of light circled in every direction, one beam coming to rest on the very spoon she’d used hours earlier to send out a distress signal.
It seemed the universe—or maybe even her sister—had somehow heard her plea and solved the problem of Marty in a most unexpected way.
A minute or two later, the waiter returned with her food in a chic canvas bag that bore the insignia of the restaurant.
Chelsea rose from her chair, a fresh sense of purpose charging through her veins and filling her with exhilaration. She might have entered this hotel a woman lacking self-confidence, but she was leaving a different person.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered to the grand old building. ‘I owe you.’
The crystals moved overhead, as if waving a silent goodbye.
She headed for the exit, slinging her purse over her shoulder, her pinched toes and frazzled nerves forgotten. Time to flag down a taxi. She could ask Lila to come back to the flat, where they could share the meal and laugh about her fail
ed date.
As she pushed open the door, she took one last look behind her at the hotel’s dining room with its plush velvet chairs and fine silver. Certainly a different outcome than she’d expected. What she’d thought was a doomed evening had turned into something good.
Smiling, she strode through the huge reception area, her mind already sorting through her duties the next day at the hospital. And yes, she would see London. That was her new mission in life.
She’d almost reached the gold and glass revolving doors when someone called her name. Thinking the maitre d’ had forgotten something, or worse, that he’d made a mistake and that the Kenistanian president really hadn’t paid for her meal, she turned, heart in her throat.
Instead of the waiter, she found Earpiece Guy walking toward her, his long legs eating up the gap between them.
She blew out a breath. ‘Aidah...is she okay?’
‘She’s fine.’ He stopped in front of her, his brown eyes sweeping over her face. ‘But I came at her request.’
A wave of disappointment crashed through her. Was that why he was here? To bring thanks or to make sure Chelsea’s meal had been covered? ‘I don’t understand.’
‘The president’s daughter is very grateful. She wants you to have her address and phone number in Kenistan. In case you ever wish to visit. You have an open invitation to stay at the palace.’
He lifted Chelsea’s hand and pressed a piece of paper into her palm before curling her fingers shut around it. The warmth of his skin sent a shiver through her that she did her best to suppress. She had a feeling he knew, though. That dark gaze didn’t miss much.
She cleared her throat. ‘Please thank her for me.’
He didn’t say anything, pulling back a step, his hands going behind his back. His proud stance was already achingly familiar. She tried to draw up a picture of how Marty looked when he stood but came up blank. Maybe because he hadn’t made much of an impression on her. Unlike this man, whose name she didn’t even know.
‘So when are you going back?’ she asked.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘I assume Aidah doesn’t live here on a permanent basis.’