“No,” she shook her head, feeling queasy at the thought of food. To appease Theia, she said, “I’ll have something in the hospital later.”
Theia shrugged, the one that conveyed “you-are-being-stubborn-I-know-better-but-have-it-your-way”.
Several photographers were camped outside the hospital lobby. Lexie, Theia, and her bodyguards had to use the back entrance to access Nic’s room. According to Theia, the media had been fed stories about Nic meeting an accident while riding in the Polo Club. Lexie’s failure to be at his side when he was rushed to the hospital hinted at a rift between the couple. The media was on Princess Alexandria watch and were avidly awaiting any developments.
Lexie arrived to an empty room, the awestruck nurse on duty explaining that the patient was still in the recovery unit and would not be wheeled in for at least a few more hours. Despite her protests, Lexie ordered Theia to leave and do some shopping. The bodyguards would stay outside the hospital room and keep vigil. She paced, checked her mobile phone for messages from Stefan, looked out the window, told her bodyguard to buy her some magazines, and found herself staring at front-page photos of her and Nic splashed on a tabloid magazine.
“Lovers Quarrel Distracts Polo Player, Causes Injury”, the headline fabricated. The article went on to say that in a practice match at the Polo Club, Nic Fernandez had been obviously off his game, was bumped off, fell, and had broken his arm. The reason for the distraction was a rumored tiff between the polo player and his ladylove, Princess Alexandria.
Lexie crumpled the tabloid magazine in disgust. Better that version than the truth. The door to the room suddenly opened and two men in hospital scrubs wheeled in a gurney. On the stretcher, pale and still, Lexie got her first glimpse of Nic since they parted. His face was puffy and purple in some places, and there was a cut above one eyebrow. She must have made a sound because his lids fluttered sluggishly open, and the sight of those electric blue eyes sent a jolt straight to her heart.
His lips moved weakly. “Rojita,” he murmured hoarsely, his eyes not leaving her as they transferred him onto his bed.
Lexie grasped his left hand and squeezed. “I’m here,” she said, emotions making her throat tight, “and I’m staying.”
He smiled, a dopey, drugged kind of smile before closing his eyes once more, exhausted from the effort. And Lexie knew everything was going to be alright.
* * *
Princess Alexandria of the House of Ligueria was not one to abuse her wealth, power and status, but for the man she loved, she would gladly make the exception. So at eight p.m. when it was beyond visiting hours, she dug in her heels, flashed an imperious but sweet smile at the stern-looking nurse, and refused to be booted out of the patient’s room.
Nic had drifted in and out of consciousness the whole day. His eyes would flick around the room, settle on her, then his lids would shut. Lexie had panicked and the nurse assured her it was normal since the anesthesia still had to wear off completely. By late evening when he managed to be awake for a good thirty minutes, Nic still appeared woozy and was in visible pain. He couldn’t tolerate eating and was surprised to find Lexie still there.
“How are you feeling?” Lexie sat on a chair, which she had pulled near the bed. She swept a lock of wavy dark hair away from his forehead gently.
“Tengo sed.” His lips were dry.
I am thirsty, she translated in her head. Glad to be doing something, Lexie handed him a cup of water. He drank a few sips and fell back on the pillow as if the simple effort exhausted him.
“The photos?” His voice was a weak rasp.
“Sshh,” Lexie reassured him, sensing his mounting agitation. “It’s all taken care of. Butler will not be able to release them.”
His clenched jaw loosened but his grip on her hand tightened. “Te quiero mucho.”
“I know,” she replied, finally letting the tears fall as he succumbed once more to exhaustion and the pain medication.
* * *
Nic had a vivid dream where he saw Lexie running on the pampas, the great Argentine flatlands, weaving her hands through the grass. From a far-off distance behind her was a man on horseback, galloping full speed towards her. He tried to cry out to warn her but he couldn’t make his voice work. He watched, helpless, as the man rode by and carried her off, screaming, into the limitless distance. He woke with a start, his adrenaline high and then crashed in relief as he glimpsed her sleeping profile beside his hospital bed, her head pillowed on her good arm. Her auburn lashes created a fringe of shadows on her lower lids. The beautiful sight made him ache in the body part that was probably the only area Butler and his goons hadn’t beaten – his heart. Okay, so they probably had forgotten to do lethal damage to another body part, thank God, because he felt it stirring to life. He cursed softly. It felt damned uncomfortable, and the only cure for it was sleeping inches away from him.