the headache you must have. But all’s looking as it should, Mrs. Grey. I suggest you get some sleep. Depending on how you feel in the morning, we may let you go home. My colleague Dr. Singh will be attending you then.”
“Thank you.”
A loud knock, and Taylor enters carrying a hefty box from the Fairmont Olympic.
“Food?” Dr. Bartley says, surprised.
“Mrs. Grey is hungry,” I inform her. “This is chicken soup.”
“Soup will be fine, just the broth. Nothing heavy.” She looks pointedly at both of us, then exits the room with Nurse Nora.
There’s a wheeled tray in the corner. I maneuver it over to Ana, and Taylor places the box on it. “Welcome back, Mrs. Grey,” he says with a fond smile.
“Hello, Taylor. Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome, ma’am—” He stops, and I glance up at him as I unpack the box. I think he wants to say more. Perhaps to scold Ana? I wouldn’t blame him, but he just smiles at her.
In addition to the thermos with soup, there’s a small basket of bread rolls, a linen napkin, a china bowl, and a silver spoon.
“This is great, Taylor,” Ana says.
“Will that be all?” Taylor asks.
“Yes, thanks,” I say. He can go back to bed.
“Taylor, thank you.”
“Anything else I can get you, Mrs. Grey?”
She looks at me and arches a brow. “Just some clean clothes for Christian.”
Taylor glances at me and smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”
What? I check my shirt. I’ve not spilled anything down it.
But I haven’t washed or shaved for days.
I must look like shit.
“How long have you been wearing that shirt?” Ana asks.
“Since Thursday morning.” I give her an apologetic shrug and Taylor leaves us. “Taylor’s real pissed at you, too,” I add, and unscrew the lid of the thermos to pour the soup into the bowl.
Ana dives in with an eagerness I’ve never seen before. At the first mouthful she closes her eyes as if in ecstasy.
“Good?” I perch on the bed once more.
She nods enthusiastically and takes another spoonful, then pauses to wipe her mouth on a linen napkin. “Tell me what happened—after you realized what was going on.”
“Oh, Ana, it’s good to see you eat.”
“I’m hungry. Tell me.”
I frown, trying to remember the order in which everything happened. “Well, after the bank called, and I thought my world had completely fallen apart—”
Ana stops and gazes at me, looking lost.
“Don’t stop eating, or I’ll stop talking.” I sound far sterner than I intend. She flattens her lips, but continues to eat. “Anyway, shortly after you and I had finished our conversation, Taylor informed me that Hyde had been granted bail. How, I don’t know; I thought we’d managed to thwart any attempts at bail. But that gave me a moment to think about what you’d said, and I knew something was seriously wrong.”
“It was never about the money,” she snaps, suddenly raising her voice. “How could you even think that? It’s never been about your fucking money!”
Whoa! “Mind your language,” I exclaim. “Calm down and eat.”
She glares at me, eyes blazing with anger.
“Ana.”
“That hurt me more than anything, Christian,” she whispers. “Almost as much as you seeing that woman.”
Shit. I close my eyes, as my remorse returns full-blown. “I know.” I sigh. “And I’m sorry. More than you know. Please, eat. While your soup is still hot.” My tone is contrite and gentle. I owe her that.
She picks up her spoon, and l blow out a breath of relief.
“Go on,” Ana encourages me, between bites of soft bread roll.
“We didn’t know Mia was missing. I thought maybe he was blackmailing you or something. I called you back, but you didn’t answer.” I scowl, remembering how impotent I felt. “I left you a message and then called Sawyer. Taylor started tracking your cell. I knew you were at the bank, so we headed straight there.”
“I don’t know how Sawyer found me. Was he tracking my cell, too?”
“The Saab is fitted with a tracking device. All our cars are. By the time we got near the bank, you were already on the move, and we followed. Why are you smiling?”
“On some level I knew you’d be stalking me.”
“And that is amusing because?”
“Jack had instructed me to get rid of my cell. So I borrowed Whelan’s cell, and that’s the one I threw away. I put mine into one of the duffel bags so you could track your money.”
I sigh. “Our money, Ana. Eat.”
Once again, I’m amazed by her cool head and quick thinking, but I merely watch as she wipes the