Her fingers on her scalp felt wonderful. “Who is Dr. Tuska?”
Fatima finished her hair and stepped in front of her. “I don’t think I can answer all the questions you have. If you will settle back in bed, I will order room service and let Major Grant know you are awake.”
Major Grant? Her brow wrinkled, but she nodded. “We’re in a hotel?”
“Yes.” Fatima straightened the bed covers and fluffed the pillows. “What would you like to eat?”
She bit her lip. She’d dreamed of a huge stack of buttermilk pancakes smothered in syrup while she’d been counting grains of rice, but her stomach probably wouldn’t handle that so well. “A cheese omelet? And fruit, please.”
“Of course.” She gestured toward the bed and Emme climbed in. Fatima pulled the sheets up to her waist.
Settling against the pillows, exhaustion pressed down on her.
“I’ll let Major Grant know you are awake.”
“Thank you.” She might not be for much longer. Her eyelids grew heavy. That little bit of activity had drained her. The door pushed open.
Jordan. “I thought I dreamed you.” Her gaze roamed his face. She hadn’t seen him in more than a decade, but she would have recognized him anywhere. There was no mistaking those green eyes and dimpled chin. She’d called it his face butt when they’d been kids. No way she’d call him that now. He was even better looking now than he’d been when she was a teenager with a crush. The plain blue t-shirt fit tight across his shoulders and chest, showing off his muscles.
Oh my god. Jordan Grant is in a bedroom with me and I’m disgusting.
He sat on the edge of the bed. “No dream, slugger. How’re you feeling?”
Embarrassed!“Sore. Hungry.”
He smiled, showing off his perfect white teeth. A bath was going to be the first order of business. “Fatima was ordering from room service when I came in.”
She nodded. “What happened?”
He shifted on the bed and pressed his hip into hers. “How much do you remember?”
“Everything up to the explosion.”
He nodded. His gaze moved to her cheek and his face grew tight, but he explained how her father had hired Jared Westin and Titan. She smiled. He probably hadn’t found them in the back ofSoldier of Fortune.
“What about Abu Dhabi? How did we get here?”
“Airplane,” he said, straight-faced.
“Jackass.” She forgotten how dry his sense of humor was. “Why here and not back home?”
“Ah. See, that question makes more sense. Jared and your father—”
“I have your food, Miss France,” Fatima said from the door.
She tried to push up with her good arm, but struggled, unable to get her nightgown from under her enough to scoot upright.
Jordan stood. “Lean forward.” He grabbed a bolster from the chair beside the bed and put it behind her lower back.
“Thank you.” God, she hated feeling helpless. She needed her arm unwrapped so she could take care of herself.
“No problem.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts and stepped to the side. “Do you want me to leave while you eat?
Fatima set the tray on her lap. “No, finish explaining how we got here.” She picked up the fork with her left hand and tried to cut the omelet, but it tore into large chunk. She didn’t have the dexterity to hold the fork properly. Maybe she could spear the fruit since it was already sliced. Biting a piece of mango, she closed her eyes as the fresh flavor exploded on her tongue. So good.
She opened her eyes to find Jordan staring and Fatima smiling at her. “What?”
“It’s good to see you have an appetite,” Fatima said. “Can I bring you anything else?”
