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“I do not know it.”
“Why was she here?”
“A visitor to Señorita Martínez, I believe.”
“Please, ask Señorita her name and where she works.” The nurse seemed about to decline, but Nikki grabbed her sleeve, her fingers desperate. “Please, Nurse Vásquez. It’s important.”
“Dios,” Nurse Vásquez muttered under her breath. “I will see what I can do.”
“Gracias,” Nikki said, crossing her fingers that Trent wouldn’t get wind of her request. For the moment, she would keep her conversation with the woman to herself.
* * *
Within the hour, she heard his footsteps and braced herself for another confrontation. He appeared in the doorway with two cups of coffee. “Peace offering,” he said, setting a cup on the stand near the bed. Then he resumed his position near the window. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’d like to lie and tell you I’m fine, but I’m not.”
He lifted a shoulder and took a long swallow. “I know. I wish I could change that.”
“You don’t have to spend day and night here.”
“Sure I do.”
“I’ll be all right—”
“Wouldn’t want my bride to get lonely.” He offered her a sly grin, then sipped from his paper cup, letting the steam warm his face.
“I wouldn’t be.”
“I was hoping that being around me would jog your memory.”
Slowly, she shook her head. “Don’t be offended, but…I don’t see how I would ever have wanted to marry you. True, I can’t remember, but you don’t really seem my type.”
“I wasn’t.” He curled one knee up on the ledge and stared through the glass. “You were used to dating buttondown types.”
“So why would I take up with you?” she asked.
“The challenge,” he said, his eyes twinkling seductively.
“I don’t think so.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” His lips turned down at the corners. “You’ve always been a risk-taker, Nikki. A woman who wasn’t afraid to do whatever it was she felt she had to. Your job at the Observer is a case in point.”
“My job?” she asked.
“Mmm. You’re a reporter, and a damned good one.”
For some strange reason, she glowed under his compliment, but she told herself to be wary. Instinctively she knew McKenzie wasn’t the kind of man who praised someone without an ulterior motive. Her shoulder muscles bunched.
“You’ve been bucking for more difficult assignments since you
signed on at the paper.”
“And was I given them?”
“Hell, no. A few people at the Observer, those in positions of power, like to keep things status quo. You know, women doing the entertainment news, helpful household hints, local information about schools and mayoral candidates and whose kid won the last spelling bee. That kind of thing.”
“That’s what I wrote?” she asked, her brows drawing together. It sounded right, but she wasn’t sure.
