Название | Christmas Ever After |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Sarah Morgan |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | MIRA |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474030946 |
“You’re so wrong about me.” Her stomach was rolling ominously. “I’m adorable when you get to know me.”
“I won’t be getting to know you.”
“Your loss.”
With an exasperated sound, he lowered her carefully to the bed and adjusted the dressing on her head. “It’s bleeding again. Remind me why I didn’t take you to the hospital?”
“Because I asked you not to and you listened.” It felt as if thunder and lightening were exploding in her head. “Do you have any painkillers?”
He disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few moments later holding some tablets. “Paracetamol.” Instead of giving them to her, he put them down next to the bed. “Look over my shoulder.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and switched on the flashlight function. He flashed the light over her eyes, checking her pupils. “How many of me are there?”
“One. But that’s more than enough so don’t go cloning yourself anytime soon.”
He didn’t smile. “Were you knocked out? Did you lose consciousness?”
“I don’t think so.” She winced as he took a photograph. “Are you going to post that to Instagram?”
“I’m not posting it anywhere. I’m keeping it in case we need it as evidence.”
“Evidence for what? That I look stunning with a black eye?”
“Evidence against your boyfriend.” His tone was hard. “Can you remember everything that happened?”
Her stomach roiled.
She thought about Richard. About the things he’d said and the expression on his face when he’d said them. “Yes, unfortunately. I’d give a lot for amnesia right now.”
She felt humiliated and irritatingly fragile.
The truth was she’d been completed deluded.
For once her creative brain had worked against her.
Alec hesitated. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He was obviously hoping she’d say no and she was touched that he’d even asked.
“No.” She decided to give him a break on that one. “I want to clean up and shut my eyes for a while. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“Liar.”
He shone the phone’s flashlight at her head. “That bruise isn’t looking good. Do you know who you are? What day it is?”
“I’m the non-prodigal daughter and today is the day I ruined my favorite dress, realized I was in a relationship with a dumbass and ended up in the hotel room of a man who hates me. I’m telling myself things can only get better.”
She bit back a hysterical laugh. At least now she knew it wasn’t love. No more doubts on that score.
Alec handed her the pills. “If you’re going to be sick, I want to know.”
Despite their less than perfect history, she almost felt sorry for him.
She knew what Richard was like with anyone who was ill. Instead of sympathy, his mind ran to vaccinations and quarantine. “It’s fine. Go check into another room. I’ll pay.”
“What’s the point in that? I brought you here to keep an eye on you.”
“But you want a sick warning.”
“Because it’s a bad sign with a head injury,” he said patiently, “and if that happens I’m taking you to hospital.”
“Oh. I thought—” She didn’t tell him what she’d thought. She was starting to wonder if her time with Richard had twisted her view on the world. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, but thank you.” She lifted her palm to her mouth but her hand was shaking and one of the pills slid onto the floor and vanished under the bed. “Sorry.”
He said nothing. Simply disappeared for a moment and returned to face her. This time he put a fresh pill in her palm and guided her hand to her mouth. Then he handed her the water. “What happened, Sky? Why did he leave you there like this?”
“Because he’s a jerk. Because he cares more about the media and his public image than he does about me. Because I didn’t do and say what he wanted me to do and say. Because he’s in love with my father.” It was all so ridiculous she started to laugh.
Alec looked bemused. “Your father?”
“Never mind. It’s complicated. You have no idea how complicated.” Even she couldn’t unravel what was real and what wasn’t. How many of their conversations had been false? If their relationship had been a movie, she would have watched it again with subtitles to see what she’d missed. “Do we have to talk about this?”
“No. Stay there. I’m going to clean up your head.”
She closed her eyes, heard the sound of running water from the bathroom, and then he was back with a washcloth and a towel.
“I’ll try not to hurt you.”
She didn’t tell him that most of the hurt was on the inside. Trying not to wince, she sat still as he gently cleaned her forehead. “I bet I look good. Black and red are my colors, and so is blue.”
He smiled. “Scalps are extremely vascular. They always produce more blood than they should and it looks worse than it is.”
It was rare to see him smile and she found it hard to look away. It was like catching a glimpse of the sun on a dark, stormy day.
“You should smile more. You look less intimidating when you smile.”
The smile vanished. “You have dried blood in your hair, but I can’t do anything about that. If we wash it, it will open the wound.”
The awkwardness was back.
She wanted a shower, but she wasn’t sure she could manage that without help and there was no way she was stripping naked in front of Alec Hunter. She’d suffered all the humiliation she could handle for one day. “Do you have my purse? I’ll call a cab and get out of your way.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my fancy hotel room. There’s a bottle of champagne waiting for me. Shame to waste it.”
“Champagne?” His voice sharpened. “He’s staying with you?”
“That was the plan, but I’m guessing I’ll be drinking it alone.” She thought about her plan to make the most of London at Christmas. Ice-skating alone. The London Eye alone. Yay. Fun times ahead.
“You can’t go back to your room. There’s a chance he might show up, and if he doesn’t it would mean you being on your own and you can’t be on your own. Not after a head injury. Someone needs to be with you.” He removed his tie and loosened a few buttons of his shirt.
She noticed the hint of dark chest hair through the gap in his buttons and averted her eyes quickly.
She didn’t need to know more about Alec Hunter than she already did.
“Relax. That ‘someone’ isn’t going to be you so don’t change your plans for me.”
“I don’t have plans.”
“You’re wearing a tie. I assume you had a date.”
“I gave a lecture earlier today.”
The reminder of his standing in the academic world did nothing to rescue her flagging spirits.
Here was someone else with a “proper job.”
She