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“Tell him you’re in pitiful shape and going on a cruise to forget the accident ever happened.”
She repeated the message. “I’ll talk to you when I come home.” She ended the call. “I should call Paul too.” She waited for him to find the number. “Hi, Paul. I’m doing well. Thank you for the plant. I’m going on a cruise with Alejandro and will be gone next week and don’t want you to worry about me.”
She again covered the phone. “He asked if we’re going on a honeymoon. Does he know we got married?”
Alejandro shook his head. “He couldn’t know.”
“It’s just a cruise, Paul. Have you spoken with Lamoreaux? Right now, I’ve only one good leg to use for a shoe ad, so he should hire someone else.” Ana said good-bye and handed Alejandro the phone. “As always, Paul is focused on my career. As long as I have a head and can smile, he advises me to work. Apparently Lamoreaux is so enchanted with me, he still wants me to do his shoe ad even if I have only one foot. Can you find a wheelchair and get me out of here for a while?”
He stood and swung the chair aside. “Do you really feel up to it?”
“I don’t know. We’ll see.”
He found Maja at the nurse’s station. “Is it too soon for Ana to use a wheelchair?”
“We could give it a try.” Maja found a chair and rolled it into Ana’s room. She moved the rolling IV
stand out of their way. “Ready for a little adventure?”
“I just want out of this bed.” Ana tried to sit up and fell back. “Give me a minute.”
“I’ll wait,” the nurse replied. “Take a couple of deep breaths, and we’ll move you to the chair.”
With her leg in the cast, Ana could barely shift position, but with Maja’s help, she eased herself onto the side of the bed, and Alejandro scooped her up and into the wheelchair.
She sat back and scrunched her eyes closed. “I’m sorry, but I’m too dizzy to do this.”
“Wait a minute,” Maja urged. “Let the room stop spinning around you.”
Ana frowned and shook her head. “I need to go back to bed.”
“I’ll help you,” Alejandro offered, and with a gentle grasp, he placed her on the bed. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
She settled against her pillows. “We’ll see. Just go home. You needn’t come back again today.”
“Gian Carlo recommends milkshakes. I’ll go down to the cafeteria and get you one. What would you like, chocolate or vanilla?”
She reached out to catch his hand and gave him a fond squeeze. “Some things you can’t fix, Alejandro, and you needn’t try. Please just go on home.”
He looked to the nurse, but she just shrugged and rolled out the wheelchair. “All right, I’ll go, but have Maja call me if you need anything.”
“Go live your life. I’ll be fine.”
“My life’s right here.” He leaned down to kiss her and drank up her spicy taste. He took care not to overwhelm her with affection and left the bag of little cakes in her lap. Too concerned for her to be wary, he left the building for the parking garage and walked right into a ring of paparazzi.
“Mr. Ortiz! Is it true you’ve married Ana Santillan?”
Another shouted, “Is she dying?”
“No, she’s not,” he answered, and immediately regretted it when the half dozen camera-toting men lunged closer. He pushed his way through them and made his way to his SUV, but he was disgusted with himself for believing he could call her his wife and not have it reach the tabloid hounds. Ana believed she was his wife, so the so-called news in a tabloid wouldn’t hurt her. Then he remembered his father. “Oh hell.”
Ana wasn’t sure if it was the lingering effect of the concussion or Alejandro’s delicious kisses, but she felt warm all over. He smelled so good, and his tender kisses were most welcome, not affection she’d rather avoid. Everything about the man drew her close. The way he’d caress her hand or touch her hair—it was all comfortingly familiar, as though they’d been together for years rather than a few weeks. She thought it was a few weeks, but nothing was certain right now.
Tuesday morning, Libby had everything ready for her first-period class when Joe Taylor, who taught boys’ physical education at the American high school, entered the gym. Tall and slim with bright red hair, he was always in motion. He waved a tabloid. “Do you believe this? Ana Santillan is dying, and she’s married the heir to the Ortiz shipping fortune. I’ve been in love with her since I was sixteen. I don’t know which is worse, that she’s near death or that she’s married someone else.”
“May I see it, please?” Libby took the paper and quickly scanned the brief article. “Santos sent her flowers, but I didn’t think the accident left her that badly injured. Maggie and I talked with her a couple of weeks ago, and she didn’t even mention Alejandro.”
Joe’s eyes grew huge. “You know her? Can you get me an introduction, if she survives?”
