He didn’t know why she’d listed him as an emergency contact. Something about that hurt him low in his ribs, because it spoke of an intense loneliness and vulnerability. Was he truly the only person she could think of in a time like this?
But then – that didn’t make sense. It had been three years, surely she hadn’t spent her life in a void of friendship and people? Not someone like Elodie who sparked from her every piece of her being.
“She’s unconscious,” he murmured, taking a step towards the bed and wincing at how battered she was, at the pain she would be in when the morphine eventually stopped easing it.
“Mmm.” The nurse was no longer dri
p-feeding information but that didn’t matter. Fiero was on his own path now.
“Was she unconscious when she came in?”
The nurse compressed her lips, clearly not keen to divulge anything to a man who might very well be a stranger.
“I’m her emergency contact,” he said with authority even as the question of ‘why’ hung over his head.
The nurse looked at him for several beats longer and then sighed impatiently. “Hang about. I’ll go see what I can find.”
It was Fiero’s turn for impatience. “Where is her doctor?”
The nurse reached for the clipboard at the foot of the bed. “We’re waiting on the neurologist consultant to arrive. She’s on call; we’ve paged her.”
He stifled a curse and swept his eyes shut. “Do you mean to tell me there might be neurological issues here and we are waiting?”
The nurse flinched a little. “I can page her again.”
“Do that.” But Fiero was already reaching for his own phone, pulling it out of his pocket and dialling his personal assistant, ignoring the ‘no mobile phone’ sign near the door of the room. The nurse clearly thought better of pointing it out. She moved quickly from the room.
Fiero was alone with Elodie.
Three years.
His body radiated tension as he moved the rest of the way to the side of the bed. Of his own accord, his fingers lifted to the hand that wasn’t in a sling. He stroked it gently, his eyes sweeping shut, impossibly long, black lashes curling against his dark skin.
His assistant answered his phone call.
Instincts took over.
Springing his eyes open, he spoke in rapid-fire Italian. Where is the best hospital in London? How quickly could a private helicopter ambulance be arranged? Clear his meetings for the week. Everything. Yes, the dinners too. He disconnected the call and stared down at her, knowing that for whatever reason she’d given his details to the hospital, he was glad for it. Glad because he was the right person to make sure she got the very best care. Cost was irrelevant.
She would be well again.
“Dr Hassan won’t be long,” the nurse breezed back in, holding a plastic cup half-filled with water. She passed it to Fiero and he took it without acknowledging it.
“What happened?”
“A car accident.” The nurse had now apparently obtained the authority to speak freely with him. “I don’t know the details, but she was lucky it wasn’t worse. She was nipped as she stepped onto the curb, thrown across the footpath. Her head collided with a shop window, hence the lacerations and bruising.” The nurse clucked sympathetically. “Caused quite a commotion.”
His nod was tight.
“She’s been in and out of consciousness since,” the nurse continued.
He suppressed the desire to drill her on the hospital’s policy with neurological admits. His assistant would be arranging everything – soon Elodie would be getting proper care.
“And she asked for me?” He prompted, that piece of the puzzle making little sense at the same time it somehow did. Wasn’t that how it had been, on their short night together? Contradictions everywhere. How right it felt even when he’d known it to be wrong. How he’d felt as though he’d known her forever when they’d only just met.
The nurse frowned. “No.”
He jerked his gaze away from Elodie. “But the hospital called…”