I cautiously stepped inside the room and my eyes immediately went to Hannah, sitting in a chair in front of a messy desk. The rest of the room blurred around me as I walked to her side. In the distance I heard the soft click of the door closing. “Hi, there. Are you okay?”
“Yes. No.” Hannah’s shoulders shook with her suppressed sobs. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want to do this. I’m so scared. Oh, God, why did this have to happen? Why now?”
“Hey, hey. Ssshhh.” I bent over and took her into my arms. “It’s okay, mon chou. You’re going to be fine. I swear it’ll all look so much better once we have some answers and a straight course of action. We’re going to get through this together.”
“I just…I wish I hadn’t been so stubborn. I really want my mom here. She has this way of talking me off my self-imposed cliffs.”
“I can send one of the guys and have her here in thirty.” I took a step back and reached for my phone when Hannah’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“No, it’s okay. You’re a good substitute, as far as calming influences go. Besides, we’d have to explain to her first what’s going on. And I don’t think that’s a conversation we should have on the phone.”
“Well, I think—” I broke off as the door opened and a woman in her forties wearing scrubs and a lab coat entered.
“Are you ready for me?” she asked.
“Yes, Dr. Ledbetter. You were right. Having him here to argue with me helped calm me down.”
The doctor smiled. “My wife has the same effect on me. I’ll never understand how someone can simultaneously be aggravating and calming. One of life’s mysteries, I assume.” She turned to me. “Did Hannah explain to you what we’ve talked about so far?”
“No.” I shook my head. “We were still arguing.”
“That’ll happen.” The doctor sat behind her desk and opened a folder. After she looked at it for a moment, she replaced the folder on the desk and placed her hands on top of it. “As I told you, Hannah, we’re dealing with thyroid cancer. We’ve run the labs—both your blood work and your biopsy—and I believe we’ve caught it early. We need to do some imaging tests to confirm, but from your biopsy and our physical exams, I believe we’re dealing with a T1a tumor, which means the tumor is small, less than half an inch across, and the cancer has not spread. In your case, we’re recommending surgery to remove the tumor and radiation to treat the area.”
Hannah gasped and swayed in her seat. I reached over and took her hand in mine. Hannah squeezed my hand and I squeezed it back.
Her doctor leaned forward. “This is all good news, Hannah. You are stage one. The five-year survival rate is almost one hundred percent. With treatment and follow-ups, there is no reason you shouldn’t be able to do whatever you want in just a few months. This treatment will only take a few weeks. And we should be able to give you the all clear a few months after that. Now, I know this is a lot to take in, but I want to schedule the surgery as soon as possible. The faster we treat this, the quicker we get you cancer-free.”
We both nodded, still shell-shocked by all the information.
“I can fit you in Wednesday morning. Does that work for you?”
A tear rolled down Hannah’s cheek and I brushed it away. I gave her a reassuring smile, then turned to the doctor. “Yes, it does.”
“Great. The nurse will call with all the relevant information. I know this is difficult. But you have the best prognosis possible, and I happen to believe the best medical team on your side. We are going to beat this, Hannah. You have to believe that.”
“I do, Doctor. Thank you,” Hannah whispered.
I leaned forward in my seat. “Thank you, Doctor. But I’m afraid there’s one more matter we need to discuss.”
“Yes?”
“Can we trust that your office will not leak any of this to the press?”
The mood in the room turned frosty. After giving Hannah a slight smile, the doctor turned and met my unwavering gaze. “I can assure you that we treat patient privacy here with the utmost importance.”
“That may be. I, however, am not a patient.”
Hannah’s doctor nodded tightly. “I will have a talk with my staff. We do not allow leaks of any kind with regard to our patients’ privacy. That includes relatives and guests.”
“I appreciate it.”
“However, I will caution you. The hospital is a huge place with a large number of staff, patients, and visitors that I will not be able to vouch for. You might want to consider that going forward.”
“We will. Thank you.”
I gave Hannah a tight smile as we stood up to leave. Now I just had to figure out how I was going to shield Hannah from the ugliest part of being with me while she was going through the ugliest part of her life.
Chapter 23
“Mrs. Allen, how lovely to meet you.” I greeted Hannah’s mum at the door of my suite. “Please come in. Hannah is waiting in the salon.”
Hannah’s mum stepped through the suite, her eyes large as she scanned the ornate bar, the chandelier, and the rest of the room’s furnishings. She gave me a tight-lipped smile, and I could see she was nervous. It was like looking at a future vision of Hannah—both women were slim, blond, and attractive. But where Hannah preferred flirty dresses, Mrs. Allen wore dress slacks and a blouse. She clutched her husband’s arm in a white-knuckled grip.
I gathered that Mr. Allen wasn’t my biggest fan. He patted his wife’s hand, then gave Hannah a huge bear hug like she was a little girl and he hadn’t seen her in ages.
“Dad!” Hannah squealed as his hug lifted her off her feet. “Oh, my god! Put me down.”
“You’re looking too thin, Banana,” Mr. Allen boomed as he set Hannah down. He was a large man both in stature and voice. We were about even in height, but Mr. Allen had me by about a dozen kilos, and most of that looked to be muscle. “Have they been feeding you enough at that palace of his?”
Hannah threw me a “help me” look. But I wasn’t touching that one with a three-meter pole. There was never a good answer when it came to women and weight. So instead I smiled and shrugged.
“They fed me occasionally. A lot better than I ate before or am able to on my own. I don’t think I’ll ever eat food as incredible as what they had in Monaco. Especially now that I’m on unemployment.”
Mr. Allen frowned. “Maybe you should’ve considered that before you went running off with Romeo here. Good jobs are hard to come by.”
“Camelot stopped being a good job a long time ago, Dad. And please don’t call Luc that. You should at least say hello. You’re being rude.”
“Fine, Banana.” Mr. Allen turned to me with an outstretched hand. “Griffin Allen, but you can call me Mr. Allen.”
The grip he had on my hand made me see stars, but I didn’t wince or blink. I tried to return his handshake with a grip of my own, but I had a feeling I fell short. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Allen. Please call me Luc.”
“Sure thing, Luke.” Mr. Allen gave my hand one last menacing squeeze, then dropped it. “So what’s next on his lordship’s itinerary?”
“Dad,” Hannah said with a warning note in her tone.
“It’s fine, mon chou. How about we all sit in the dining room? I believe the staff have set out a dinner for us.” I gave Hannah’s parents a pleasant smile that I was kilometers from feeling. Then, taking Hannah’s hand, I led the way into the dining room.
“I had no idea your suite had a dining room,” Hannah whispered.
Christ, she was so cute. So I whispered back, “Neither did I.”
Hannah’s laugh was forced but tinkled enchantingly as we entered the stuffy dining room with its requisite chandelier and ostentatious table with twelve chairs. This suite was similar to the last one I’d had, just a few doors down. I much preferred the slender balcony with its narrow table, but I wasn’t keen to tempt Mr. Allen with an easy method of disposing of my body.
I grabbed a plate from the side buffet table and filled it wi
th a selection of seafood and salads that I knew Hannah liked, then handed it to her.
“Luc, that’s too much. I can’t eat anything right now—my stomach’s in knots.”
“Try to eat a few bites, mon chou. You need your strength. You won’t be able to defend my honor on an empty stomach.”
Hannah laughed. “In that case, I might need an extra helping of shrimp.”
I pinched a few more pieces of shrimp onto her plate despite her laughing protests. After preparing plates for Hannah’s parents, we turned to the table, but I stopped short at Mr. Allen’s thoughtful expression. I gave him a head tilt in acknowledgment, then placed the plates on the table. I filled a plate for myself, took a seat, and tucked into my food.
We spent the first few minutes in awkward silence with only the sound of utensils clinking on plates.
Finally, Mrs. Allen looked at Hannah with a concerned expression. “How long had things been difficult at Camelot?”
“I don’t know.” Hannah shrugged as she pushed her salad around her plate. Despite her protests, she’d managed to eat half of the portion I’d given her. “The past couple of months haven’t been the best. There had been a lot of mean-girl bullshit going on. And it was insane that I paid Kennedy money for her abuse. So I gave my notice, and now…”
I reached over and put my hand on hers.
Mrs. Allen’s eyes narrowed on our joined hands. “You can’t make these kinds of life choices based on someone you only met a week ago, Hannah. I know you haven’t had the easiest life so far, but that’s no reason to throw everything away.”
“What am I throwing away, Mom? My job was in chaos before I met Luc. I was already looking for another salon spot, so what exactly does he have to do with my decision about work?”
“I’m just saying—”
“No. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I want or need your approval for this decision, but I don’t. I’m an adult, and the decision is mine. You guys need to stop treating me like I’m that teenager back in the hospital who needs you for everything. I’m not.” Hannah’s voice broke and she paused to clear her throat. “I’m not a teenager. I can take care of myself. You need to let me go.”
“But—”
“No, Mom. No buts, no howevers. This is it. You don’t have to agree with my decision, but you do have to accept it because you don’t get a vote.”
Mr. Allen covered his wife’s hands with his. “We love you, Banana. We only want the best for you. I can’t say we’re happy with your decision, but of course it’s yours to make. We’ll be here for you when you come home. Or whenever you call.”
“Thank you, Dad. I appreciate it.”
“As long as Romeo here appreciates the wonderful woman he has, and the fact that her dad’s a mean son of a bitch who has access to plenty of construction sites and wet cement.”
“Oh, my god, Dad.” Hannah buried her face in her hands with a moan.
“Griff,” Mrs. Allen said warningly. “I think, of anyone here, Luc is the one who could get rid of a body the easiest. He could be on a private plane leaving the country in an instant, with all those burly bodyguards.”
“And I have diplomatic immunity.” I bared my teeth in a fake smile.
“Luc,” Hannah muttered as she jabbed me in the side. “Knock it off.”
Mr. Allen sat back in his chair with a sigh. “Now that we all know where we stand with regard to murder and body disposal, what’s for dessert?”
“Before we get to dessert, there’s something that I need to tell you guys.” Hannah rocked slightly in her chair. “God, this is hard. I know I said I’m not a teenager back in the hospital, but…I do have cancer.”
“What?” Mrs. Allen turned pale and swayed in her chair, much like Hannah had done at the doctor’s office.
“I have stage one thyroid cancer.” Tears welled in Hannah’s eyes as she saw the anguish of realization in her parents’ faces.
“Oh, baby.” Mrs. Allen pushed out of her chair and swept Hannah into her arms.
Mr. Allen watched them for a moment before he got out of his chair and enveloped both of them in his arms. They stood clutching each other in a shared moment of grief. After a minute or so, Mrs. Allen stepped back and turned to me.
“You knew about this? You’ve been helping our baby girl through this?”
I nodded slowly. “We only got the diagnosis last night, but I went with Hannah to her doctor appointment today, and—”
The rest of my sentence was cut off as Mrs. Allen’s arms came around me in an awkward hug, given that I was still sitting and she was standing. So I took care of that by standing up and accepting her hug like a man. She wept over my neck and I patted her on the back while I shed a few tears of my own.
“Okay.” Mrs. Allen took a step back and gently wiped her face in that way women do who wear makeup. “What’s next? Where do we start?”
—
“I don’t know why you were so afraid to tell your parents. They’re pretty great—at least they were after your father was finished with his death threats. They want to be there for you. They love you.”
“They do, don’t they? I’m pretty lucky.” Hannah smiled next to me on the couch, then took another gulp of wine. “You know who else is gonna get lucky tonight? Yooooou!”
Since her parents left, Hannah had been downing the wine like an alcoholic at a wine tasting. I stood and pulled her up with me, then led the way to the bedroom. I had a feeling Hannah would need to be horizontal soon. Before she passed out. “I am lucky. I have you.”
Hannah nuzzled my neck as we entered the bedroom. “Good idea, I could go for a little nap right now.”
The way her hand slid up under my shirt had me thinking that sleeping was the last thing on her mind. “Hannah, no, we can’t—oh, uh—” I broke off with a grunt as her hand slid down over my rapidly growing erection. “Hannah, we can’t. You’re a little tipsy, and I don’t take advantage of drunk women.”
“I am in complete control of my faculties. Is that the right word? Doesn’t that mean schoolteachers or something? Faculties. Factualties. Is there a t in it? Does that make it a different word?”
I chuckled as I guided her back to the bedroom. Her babbling was cute, and also a perfect example of why nothing was going to happen between us in there. “I think you got it right the first time. No t.”
“See, that’s what’s so great about you—you’re so smart but you don’t rub it in people’s faces. I hate it when that happens. So many people look down at me just because I do hair. I wanted to do more. I wanted to go to college, but I had to help my parents pay medical bills as soon as I could. That meant no college for Hannah. But that doesn’t make me stupid, just practical. Aside from the factualties thing. You know what? I think I am a little tipsy. Am I talking a lot? It feels like I’m talking a lot. But I can’t seem to stop. Tongue, stop talking. See? It won’t stop.”
“Maybe it would help if we got you naked.”
“Oooooh, naked. I can do naked. Watch!” Hannah kicked off her flats so that they crashed against the far wall. In seconds her pants slithered down her legs and pooled at her feet. A heartbeat later her panties joined them. She did a little shimmy movement as she rucked her top up over her head, and I had to close my eyes against the sight of Hannah’s beautiful body. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Again. Christ. I groaned as I reminded myself that we weren’t having sex. No sex. She was tipsy. Technically she couldn’t give consent. I’d be an ass if I took advantage of her now.
“Uh, Luc? A little help here? I think I’m stuck.”
I opened my eyes and found Hannah still standing naked from below the waist, but her top was caught on a bracelet or her hair or something because she couldn’t seem to get it over her head. She wiggled a little and her exposed breasts bounced. I stood there transfixed at the sight.
“Luc? Help!”
“Right.” For the second time in our short relationship, I closed the distance between us and helped her
untangle her top from her jewelry and hair. She gave a huge sigh as she was finally freed.
“Thank God. I was afraid I was going to have to go through the rest of my life with that top tangled in my hair. That would make a great impression on the medical staff at the hospital.”
“Uh-huh,” I murmured as I stared down at her gentle curves. She smiled up at me, and one of my hands lifted of its own volition and cupped one of her breasts. My thumb rubbed over the peak and Hannah’s eyelids grew heavy. She arched into my hand as she wound her arms around my neck.
“Oh, Luc.”
The sound of her husky voice snapped me out of my lustful haze. I dropped my hand and took a step back. “No, we can’t do this.”
“What? Why?”
“You’ve had the better part of a bottle of wine. You’re very fragile and tipsy. We can’t.”
Hannah’s eyes grew shiny as she lifted her arms to cover her body. “I can’t believe this. I practically throw myself at you and you still don’t want me.”
“What? No. No, Hannah, that’s not it at all. It’s—”
“That’s exactly what it is.” Hannah ducked down and grabbed her clothes. She balled up her panties in one hand while she stepped into her pants. “You’re just as bad as everyone else. Worse, really. You try to pretend my illness isn’t an issue, but it is. You don’t want to be with me, and yet you don’t want to look bad for dumping me, either.”
“Hannah—”
“No, I mean, it’s okay. Aside from the whole part where I got naked and threw myself at you. You could’ve stopped me before I got to that point. It’s my fault, really. Why would anyone—let alone a freaking prince—want to be with a woman with no future? Why sign up for all the pain and worry and tears? It’s stupid. I’m stupid for thinking it was real.”
“Hannah, stop. Stop it.” I grabbed her shirt as she was preparing to put it on and wrestled it from her hands. “This has nothing to do with your illness. I just didn’t want to take advantage of your inebriated state. I didn’t want to be the jerk who slept with you when there was a good chance you wouldn’t remember, okay? I was trying to be the good guy for once.”
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