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“Yes, you did. And I’d like for Maria to tell me in her own words,” the doctor said firmly.
Garrett looked back to Maria and her eyes were frantic. He turned back to the doctor and glared. “She knows what happened. Just make sure her vitals are good, okay?”
“Her vitals are fine. But I’d like her to at least prove that she can speak before leaving her in your care.”
Garrett was just about to lambast the motherfucker when Maria spoke softly, “I can talk, I know what happened.”
“Good, good,” the doctor said, loading his equipment back into his bag before turning to Garrett. “It’ll probably be a good thing to keep her warm. The spa is a good idea. She seems fine, her pulse is strong, if a bit elevated. Just monitor her for a while, and make sure nothing like this happens again.”
Garrett agreed with the pompous ass and then escorted him from the suite.
Just when he was about to shut the door, room service arrived with the items he’d requested. He quickly took them and shut the door again. Putting the tray with both the cognac and the wine next to the spa, he tested the water and found it about perfect.
Now if he could get Maria undressed and warmed up, he’d start breathing a little easier.
****
Maria’s heart was only now beginning to settle down from the sheer, unmitigated terror she’d experienced. In the back of her mind, she was inordinately thankful that Garrett was with her, but she didn’t take the time to question why or to think on it too much.
She was just glad.
He came back to the door and studied her. “Where’d you find that guy?”
Maria felt her lips lift a little; it was obvious he was referring to the good doctor. If she’d been capable of laughing, she would have let loose at Garrett’s disgruntled expression.
At her silence, he continued, “I’m glad you’re okay. If you weren’t, there’d be a couple of maintenance men looking for new jobs right about now.”
She knew he was joking to make her feel better, and she appreciated that about him, she really did.
“I’m going to help you into the spa now. The water is warm, it’ll make you feel better.”
She licked her lips and tried to form an answer; her brain still felt sluggish. “My swimsuit is in my room.”
“You don’t need it.”
She swallowed and nodded her head, trying to insist without speaking.
“I’ve seen it all, remember?”
Her heart began slamming against her breastbone and she forced out a single, desperate word. “Please.”
A look came over his features, and at any other time, Maria knew this would be a fight that she’d lose. But she was about to win, because somehow, she knew he wouldn’t want to upset her anymore than she already was. She didn’t know exactly how she knew that fact, but when he pushed away from the doorway and said, “I’ll be right back,” it didn’t surprise her in the least.
But it did send a feeling much like warm molasses sliding through her veins.
“Garrett?” she barely formed the whisper.
He stopped and turned back, a look of concern on his features.
“Top drawer.”
He nodded his head and turned to do her bidding.
****
Thirty minutes later, Garrett sat beside Maria in the swirling water, a pair of board shorts his only clothing. He would have gotten into the water naked, but he’d known his nudity would only upset her more, so he’d retrieved his trunks when he’d left to get her swimsuit.
He’d asked her what she wanted, Cognac or wine, and at the slight tilt of her head, he’d opened the wine bottle and poured two glasses.
As they sipped the wine, Garrett studied her where she sat across from him, and as she continued to do nothing but look into the water, he asked with a grimace, “It was pretty rough, huh?” At her silence, he continued, “You don’t have to say anything. I’m not looking for answers.” He paused and continued, “People have fears. That’s normal. Claustrophobia is fairly common . . . we don’t have to talk about it.”
She pursed her lips and glanced at him before looking away again and mumbling, “That’s good.”
He smiled, more to himself than at her. The girl was hardheaded, he’d give her that. He supposed that stubbornness was something he was attracted to.
After a few moments of quiet, she glanced back to him. “Have you ever been afraid of anything?” she asked in a quiet voice.
The question jolted him; he hadn’t expected her to try to make conversation. But he needed her to keep talking, to forget what had happened to her, or at least to move on from it, so he thought about her question. “I don’t have a phobia, if that’s what you mean. At least, not one that I’ve discovered as of yet.”
