Fucking Hyde. “And you gave Sawyer the slip. He’s mad at you, as well,” I mutter.
“As well?”
“As well as me.”
She raises her hand, her fingertips once more caressing my face. Closing my eyes, I lean in to her touch, savoring the feel of her fingers skating over my stubble. “Don’t be mad at me. Please,” she whispers.
“I am so mad at you. What you did was monumentally stupid. Bordering on insane.”
“I told you, I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You don’t seem to have any regard for your personal safety. And it’s not just you now.”
But before she or I can say anything further, the door opens and Dr. Bartley strides in. “Good evening, Mrs. Grey. I’m Dr. Bartley.”
I give her a nod and step away so she has room to examine my wife. While she’s doing that, I call Dad to let him know that Ana is awake.
“Oh, that’s great news, son.” He pauses, and I know he’s listening to Grace. “Your mother says to apologize.”
“I’ll do that, Dad.”
“Why? What’s happened?” Carrick sounds confused.
“It’s a long story.”
“Okay. Give Ana our love. We’ll come see her tomorrow.”
I call Carla to give her the good news.
“Thank you, Christian!” she sobs through her tears.
Next, Kavanagh. “Thank God,” Kate says. “And I hope you two have made up.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, though it’s none of her fucking business. “I’ve got to call Ray.”
“Okay,” Kate says. “And tell Ana no more chasing kidnappers.”
“Will do.”
Ray is so relieved, he’s silent for several seconds while he gathers himself. Eventually he says, “I appreciate the call, Christian. Tell Annie I love her.”
“Will do, Ray.”
When I finish my call to my father-in-law, Dr. Bartley is prodding my wife’s ribs. Ana winces. “These are bruised, not cracked or broken. You were very lucky, Mrs. Grey.”
Ana glances at me. “Foolhardy,” I mouth.
I’m still fucking angry with you, Ana.
“I’ll prescribe some painkillers. You’ll need them for this, and for the headache you must have. But all’s looking as it should, Mrs. Grey. I suggest you get some sleep. Depending on how you feel in the morning, we may let you go home. My colleague Dr. Singh will be attending you then.”
“Thank you.”
A loud knock, and Taylor enters carrying a hefty box from the Fairmont Olympic.
“Food?” Dr. Bartley says, surprised.
“Mrs. Grey is hungry,” I inform her. “This is chicken soup.”
“Soup will be fine, just the broth. Nothing heavy.” She looks pointedly at both of us, then exits the room with Nurse Nora.
There’s a wheeled tray in the corner. I maneuver it over to Ana, and Taylor places the box on it. “Welcome back, Mrs. Grey,” he says with a fond smile.
“Hello, Taylor. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome, ma’am—” He stops, and I glance up at him as I unpack the box. I think he wants to say more. Perhaps to scold Ana? I wouldn’t blame him, but he just smiles at her.
In addition to the thermos with soup, there’s a small basket of bread rolls, a linen napkin, a china bowl, and a silver spoon.
“This is great, Taylor,” Ana says.
“Will that be all?” Taylor asks.
“Yes, thanks,” I say. He can go back to bed.
“Taylor, thank you.”
“Anything else I can get you, Mrs. Grey?”
She looks at me and arches a brow. “Just some clean clothes for Christian.”
Taylor glances at me and smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”
What? I check my shirt. I’ve not spilled anything down it.
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