Spencer started to say something, but Aiden shook his head and he stopped. What was that about?
Alec turned her attention. “The kid on the phone said it wasn’t bad, that you only bounced a couple of times before you landed. Let’s hope he doesn’t go into the medical field.”
A young policeman came around the corner and introduced himself as Officer Talbot. “Are you feeling up to answering a couple of questions, Miss Kane?” he asked.
When Cordie nodded, he proceeded to quiz her about the accident. Witnesses reported that there had been a loud bang from a delivery truck backfiring. They were so startled they looked in the direction of the noise, and they didn’t turn back until they heard tires screeching and she was lying on the street. Did she remember the noise? No, she responded, but then everything was a blur from the time she was standing on the curb until she ended up on the pavement. Was it possible she jumped when she heard the explosion? She supposed it was possible, she told him, but she didn’t think it was probable that she would jump so far as to end up in the street. Was there anything else she could report about the incident? She told him she saw her former students across the street, but she assured him she was very aware of the light and the traffic. Other than that, she couldn’t recall what had happened. It was all so sudden.
After making a few notes, he thanked her and turned to leave. “You’re a lucky lady, Miss Kane. You could have been killed.”
The severity of what had happened to her was beginning to sink in, but she couldn’t concentrate. The nurse had given her pain medicine that was fogging her brain. She lay back and closed her eyes. The urge to sleep was too strong to fight.
A nurse told the men to step outside while she helped Cordie get dressed. The doctor had just signed her discharge papers, and she was free to go, but she could not be alone. There was a long list of what she could and could not do and three prescriptions that needed to be filled.
“She’ll want to go home,” Spencer said.
“Too bad,” Aiden responded. “She’s going to the hotel. She can’t handle steps. With all the meds she’ll be taking, she could fall and break her neck. She’s staying with me.”
“Are you going to tell her, or should I?” Spencer asked.
“No one needs to tell her. She’ll figure it out soon enough.”
As Spencer was leaving to get his car, he said, “It’s a good thing it wasn’t her right hand. She’ll still be able to write . . .”
“Cordelia is left-handed,” Aiden told him.
Alec smiled at his comment and said, “What else have you noticed?”
Aiden ignored him.
By the time Cordie was dressed, she was as white as a sheet, according to the nurse helping her. The doctor had ordered medication for her that would help her sleep and also help control the pain.
“You’ll be a little loopy,” the nurse said, “but since you’re not driving anywhere, that’s all right. You need to rest. I’d suggest tonight you get down on your knees and thank God you’re still alive, but you’d probably topple over, so say your prayers in bed.”
Cordie knew the woman was talking to her, but she couldn’t clear her head enough to make out what she was saying. She felt as though she was at the bottom of a lake, and it was going to take far too much effort to swim to the top. All she could do was give in and sink down into the murky darkness. She was dozing off when she suddenly felt Aiden’s strong arms around her. The way he lifted her was so effortless, he made her feel as light as air. He liked to carry her to his bed, she thought, as she put her head down on his shoulder and went to sleep.
Once they were at the hotel, Aiden helped her get to his suite. Like the hotel suite in Sydney, there were two bedrooms, one on each side of the living room. He guided her to the guest room. Not wanting her to sleep in her clothes, he removed them and got one of his shirts to put on her, carefully slipping her cast through the sleeve. He was pulling the covers up when Spencer came in with the prescriptions and set them on the table next to the bed.
“How’s she doing?” he asked in a whisper.
“You should see her legs and hip. They’re black-and-blue.”
“We should get one of Walker’s nurses in here,” Spencer said. “You won’t hear her if she wakes up and needs help.”
“We’ll figure it out tomorrow. I’ll stay in here tonight.”
“You’re going to sleep with her?”
“Yes.”
“That will freak her out if she wakes up.”
“No, I don’t think it will.”
Cordie slept through their conversation. She woke up in the middle of the night, and, disoriented, she looked around and squinted into the dark. Soft light spilled under the door from the room beyond, but she couldn’t figure out what that room was. A closet? A bathroom? She turned her head and saw Aiden sound asleep beside her. Were they still in Sydney? When she tried to lift her arm, she felt the weight of the cast. She looked around, and on the nightstand next to her she spotted a black-leather folder with the letter H embossed on the cover. Clarity came like a bolt out of the blue. The Hamilton. She was at the Chicago Hamilton with Aiden.
How in the world had that happened?
NINETEEN
Alec laughed when he read the sign Spencer had taped to Cordie’s bedroom door: Warning. Don’t poke the bear.
“I’m assuming Cordie’s the bear,” Alec said.
Spencer nodded. He was sitting at the dining table with his laptop in front of him, trying to get some work done.
“Why aren’t you in your office?” Alec asked him.
“I’m babysitting,” Spencer answered. “Aiden doesn’t want Cordie to be alone.” Smiling, he added, “Those two really got into it. It was something to see. He can’t intimidate her, though God knows he tried.”
“What was the argument about?”
“She wants to go home, and he won’t let her.”
“Regan will be here in a little bit,” Alec said.
Spencer nodded. “The nurse just left. She helped her shower and get dressed. Cordie was very appreciative. She’s only taking her wrath out on Aiden and me.”
“Why you?”
“I won’t take her home. I’m telling you, Alec, this floor is turning into a war zone. Walker’s a hundred times worse than Cordie. She only argues with Aiden. Walker argues with everyone, and now that he’s decided to get involved in the business, it’s a nightmare.”
“Getting involved . . . isn’t that a good thing?”
“God no.”
Alec tapped on Cordie’s door, then went inside. The drapes were open and sunlight streamed in. She was sitting in bed, her back against the headboard. Dressed in a T-shirt, sweatpants, and socks, she had her laptop open, but when she saw him, she closed it and put it aside.
“You’re looking better.” He told the lie without laughing.
Exasperated, she said, “I look like a raccoon.”
He gave up on trying to be diplomatic and dragged a chair over to the bed. Noticing the tray of food on the table, he lifted the silver dome and said, “Aren’t you going to eat your lunch?”
“No, not now.”
He popped a French fry into his mouth and reached for half the club sandwich. “You should eat. It looks really good.” He then proceeded to devour every morsel.
She handed him a bottle of water, wincing as she stretched her legs out. “Alec, I’m being held against my will. Get me out of here. I want to go home.”