Scandal With a Prince (38 page)

“Yes?”
 
She’d take anything at this point.

“There is a Canadian doctor—a Dr. Jenkins—who is the foremost authority in the world on bacterial meningitis.
 
By good fortune he is at a medical conference in Madrid this week.
 
I’ve spoken with him on the phone about Anna’s case.
 
He has some ideas about the next steps to take, though he would like to evaluate her himself first.
 
We can have him here this evening with your permission.
 
With his expertise” —he cringed slightly at his mangled pronunciation of the word— “I believe we can give Anna a fighting chance.
 
More than a fighting chance.”

How much did she adore Dr. Serrano right now?
 
She shouldn’t have begrudged him an instant of the time he took before he came in to update her.
 
The man was an angel.
 
“Anything that will help, you have my permission to do.
 
And as soon as possible.”
 

The doctor stood.
 
“In that case, I will call him back right away.”

“Thank you.
 
From the bottom of my heart.”
 
She stood and clasped his hand.
 
“I’m so grateful that you thought to call him and convince him to leave his conference to come see Anna.”

“You are quite welcome,” he replied.
 
“However, Dr. Jenkins called me.”

“He did?”
 
Megan frowned as she released the doctor’s hand.
 
“But how could he—”
 

“A friend of yours knew of Anna’s condition and called Dr. Jenkins asking for advice.
 
When your friend mentioned that you live in Barcelona, the doctor called me and offered to come from Madrid if I wanted him to consult on Anna’s case.
 
I told him it would please me a great deal to have his assistance, but that I wished to speak with you first.”
 
Dr. Serrano raised an eyebrow.
 
“Whoever your friend is, they must have a great deal of influence.
 
That call for advice very well may save Anna’s life.”

Stefano.
 
It couldn’t be anyone else.
 
Her heart swelled with gratitude.

“Even so, I really appreciate all you’re doing for Anna.
 
She’s very lucky to have you.”
 

The doctor smiled before leaving Megan alone once more, with only the drone of a television infomercial to keep her company.
 
She returned to the window, but Anna appeared as she had all afternoon.
 
Still, pale, and quiet.

Megan let out a ragged breath and told herself for the millionth time that afternoon that everything would be all right.
 
Everything possible was being done to help Anna’s recover.
 
Allowing herself to think otherwise wouldn’t help Anna one iota.

Across the room, a low buzz came from her purse.
 
After calling in sick to work again this morning—she couldn’t bring herself to tell Ramon how bad things were with Anna, knowing he’d rush to the hospital and half the hotel staff would follow in his wake—she hadn’t checked her cell phone.
 
The messages were likely piling up.
 
May as well distract herself dealing with them until Dr. Jenkins arrived.
 
Rather than sit in the chair she’d occupied all day, she flopped on her back on the bed and thumbed the phone’s power switch to reveal a new text message from her mother.

Thank you for tix.
 
You shouldn’t have.
 
Will see you shortly.

Megan did a double take.
 
Tickets?
 
What tickets?
 

The message had to be meant for someone else.
 
Her parents frequently enjoyed attending movies with the next door neighbors.
 
Perhaps the neighbors bought tickets in an effort to get the Hallbergs’ minds off their sick granddaughter.
 
She’d bet anything the neighbors’ phone number was right next to hers on her parents’ speed dial.

As Megan started typing a response, a second message appeared on the screen.

Car service just arrived at the house.
 
Flight in three hours.
 
We’ll be there tomorrow morning.
 
Love you, sweetheart.
 
Kiss Anna for us.

She paused with her thumbs over the screen.
 
The message was definitely meant for her.
 
But how in the world—?

Stefano.
 
It had to be Stefano.
 
He’d bought plane tickets for her parents so they could be by Anna’s side.

She set the phone on the bed beside her after typing back a quick
see you soon
.
 
She needed to call Stefano and thank him.
 
She closed her eyes and pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders as she thought through what she’d say.
 
A simple thank you didn’t cover it.

“Ms. Hallberg?”
 
A soft voice came from the doorway.
 
“Are you awake?”

Megan took a moment, then opened her eyes to see one of the nurses turning to tiptoe away.
 
The angle of the sun had shifted.
 
She must’ve fallen asleep.
 
“Yes?”

The nurse spun back around.
 
“I am sorry if I woke you.
 
There is a Mr. Jones here who claims he is family?
 
You said not to expect family visitors, but he asked me to find you—”

“Jones?”
 
She blinked, dazed.
 
It couldn’t be.
 
She pushed to a seated position.
 
“Yes.
 
Yes, let him in.”

Skepticism clouded the nurse’s features.
 
“Only immediate family is permitted, you understand.”

“He is immediate family.”
 
Megan used her index fingers to swipe the gumminess from her eyes.
 
“Is he downstairs or up here at the nurses’ station?”

A rich voice came from the doorway, gliding over her like a warm, comforting blanket.
 
“I’m right here.”

* * *

Megan looked like hell.
 

Black smudges marred the skin under her eyes, strands of hair fell from her loose ponytail, and her clothes looked as if she’d slept in them.
 
She sat atop a hospital bed with its sheets perfectly in place, but its pillow mushed.
 
A black sweater hung off the side of the bed and her cell phone rested face down near her hip.

She must’ve crumpled there in exhaustion, keeping herself available the instant Anna needed her.
 

Heaviness threatened to collapse his chest at the sight of her blinking at him.
 
Never had she looked so beautiful.
 
Stefano dropped his bag on the floor, then crossed the room in three steps to wrap her in an embrace.

Instantly, her arms came around him and she buried her face in his shoulder.
 
“I’m so sorry.
 
I’m so, so sorry.”

He ran a hand over the back of her head, smoothing her hair.
 
“Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered into his shirt.
 
“For Anna.
 
For everything.”

“No.
 
Don’t be sorry.
 
It’ll be all right.”
 
Still clasping the back of her head, he kissed the top of her hair.
 
He wanted to say that he was sorry, too.
 
Instead, he offered, “I called a doctor in Madrid who’s offered to consult with Dr. Serrano if it will help.”

She nodded against his shoulder, then slowly pulled back.
 
Her eyes brimmed with tears, though she held them in check.
 
“Dr. Serrano told me.
 
When he said a friend of mine called a meningitis expert, I knew it had to be you.
 
Thank you.
 
And thank you for flying my parents here.
 
I can’t believe you did that.”

He couldn’t help but give her a small smile.
 
He’d half expected her to accuse him of wanting to control the situation and tell him he shouldn’t have made calls about Anna without consulting her first.
 
But she didn’t.
 
She seemed genuinely grateful.
 

She frowned, then angled her head to look at his hat.
 
“You got rid of the Red Sox.”

“You said you liked the Twins.
 
Does it look all right?”

She nodded, a smile pushing through her tears.
 
“It’s perfect for Mr. Jones.
 
Suits his personality.”

“Good.”
 
He eased back, his hands moving from her back to her arms.
 
“So how’s Anna doing?”
 

“Stable.
 
But in this case, stable isn’t good.”
 
She slipped from his embrace and stood, leading him to a window that separated her room from Anna’s.
 
He stood behind Megan and gazed through the glass.
 

“Dr. Jenkins should be here soon.
 
He wants to examine her, then he and Dr. Serrano will decide what to do next.”

“She looks so tiny.”
 
With her eyes closed and the covers pulled to the center of her torso, Anna was dwarfed by the bed.
 
The sight of her brought Stefano right back to the hospital he’d visited with his mother when he was seven.
 
Crisp white sheets, white walls, silver bed rails.
 
Monitors flashing on either side of the bed.
 
An IV bag hanging from a hook, its tube snaking down to a child’s hand.
 
The little boy whom he’d met then looked far better than Anna did now—he’d been alert and feeling well enough to play cards—and that boy succumbed to his infection only days later.
 

A masked nurse entered the room and glanced at the monitor, then put her fingers to Anna’s wrist to double check the girl’s pulse rate, yet his daughter remained immobile.
 
He’d never seen Anna when she wasn’t bouncing.

Never in his life had stillness caused him such fear.

“I’m scared to death,” Megan whispered as the nurse departed, leaving Anna alone.
 
“We can’t lose her.
 
We just can’t.”

We
.

He put his hands on Megan’s shoulders and squeezed, then slid his arms around her to pull her against him.
 
He couldn’t carry the horrible burden for her, but he could share it.

“We won’t.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Gingerly, Stefano extracted one foot, then his arm, out from under Megan’s slumbering form before twisting his way off the narrow hospital bed.
 
He froze when she shifted a knee, drawing it closer to her body, but a beat later he realized she wouldn’t wake.

It had taken nearly six hours from the time he’d entered her room, but he’d finally convinced Megan to lie down and rest, arguing that she needed to muster her energy for when Anna recovered.
 
Dr. Jenkins and Dr. Serrano had spent copious amounts of time with Anna over the course of the evening.
 
After analyzing a new lab report on the bacteria suspected of causing her meningitis, they opted for a different regimen of antibiotics combined with medications that would lower her fever and alleviate any pressure on her brain.
 
The doctors seemed optimistic, but warned Megan that it could take a day or more to see results.
 
While Dr. Jenkins had nodded to Stefano in acknowledgement of their long friendship—Stefano’s family donated generously to a children’s relief project the doctor founded—he knew from their earlier phone call that Stefano wanted to remain anonymous while at the hospital and refrained from addressing him directly.
 

Thankfully, Dr. Jenkins hadn’t asked any personal questions during their phone call.
 
Stefano suspected they’d come later, however.
 
The nurses already wondered at his presence.
 
Though they hadn’t said anything since Megan claimed he was part of her immediate family, they’d looked at him askance.
 
Anna wasn’t listed as having a father in her medical records, Megan wore no wedding ring, and it was clear by the way Megan had fallen asleep cradled in his arms that he and Megan weren’t siblings.

 
He leaned over the bed to adjust Megan’s sweater—a necessity in the chilly hospital despite the bright summer sunshine outside—but resisted the urge to smooth her hair away from her face.
 
As much as he wanted to stay and comfort her, he wondered at what point his presence would cause her pain.
 

After glancing through the window to ensure Anna looked as comfortable as possible, Stefano tiptoed into the bathroom with his overnight bag and eyed himself in the mirror.
 
He’d thought Megan looked like hell when he arrived.
 
Compared to her, he looked like muck dredged from the lowest levels of Barcelona’s Besòs River.
 
Not even when he’d been in the military and spent two weeks in the field, training in the rain and mud, had he looked this haggard.