“Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to make this about me—”
“But I do. I’m sorry today was triggering for you.”
She wiped the tear from the corner of her eye.
“How old were you?” he asked, concern touching his eyes.
“I was ten. He was seven. We were swimming in a river near our house, and the current shifted. My mom didn’t make it in time.”
He picked up her hand in his, and gave it a light squeeze. Comfort wrapped her like a well-worn favorite shirt.
“That was one of the reasons she and my dad wanted to move after that happened. To leave Brazil. I think they were running from that tragedy.”
“I can’t imagine the kind of pain they must carry… or that you did.”
“It’s okay,” she said.
He squeezed her hand again, his fingers caressing hers. “You’re an amazing woman. Brave, intelligent and kind.”
“Can I get that in writing on a Christmas card or something? Or maybe embroidered on a cute pillow?”
He smiled. “A pillow is definitely on the table.”
Her stomach fluttered, and she felt lighter. God, she was an idiot. But an idiot that couldn’t help being obsessed with this man. “Good.”
A tall female doctor approached them. “Hi, I’m Dr. Reins,” she said. “We’ll keep Mrs. Sampaio here overnight and take it from there.”
“Is she okay now?” Manuela asked.
“She’s resting, but her vitals are good given what happened.”
“What happened?” Nate asked, a touch of concern in his voice.
“It was a mini heart attack. She started a new medication recently that didn’t work, so her body was in distress. We’ve already switched that and are running tests to the lab to make sure there isn’t anything else going on.”
“God, I bet she’s scared,” Manuela said, touching her chest. If she were all by herself in a hospital, with her son in a different country, she would be scared.
The doctor gave her a sympathetic smile. “Do you want to say hello?”
“Can I?”
“Yes. I’ll let you go in and be quick.”
“What about sleeping? Can I sleep here? I’d hate for her to be by herself,” Manuela offered. Sure, she wasn’t family, but she could help. She was at least a familiar face to Clarice, besides who else would translate for her? What if she needed anything? “She doesn’t speak English.”
“We have translating technology for that,” the doctor said. “You should go home and get some rest. She’ll be getting rest too. You can come back in the morning.”
6
Nate tossed his keycard on the nightstand. He let out a long sigh, then peeled off his clothes and went to the bathroom. A shower had to help. A cold one, too. Whatever resembled a dip in the Alaskan seaside in the winter.
Though the sentiment stalking him ever since they left the hospital and checked into the hotel for the night was far from just sexual.
Manuela was amazing. He’d meant it. She was caring, and hell, she’d offered to spend the night with Clarice from the goodness of her heart. She didn’t gain anything from it. If anything, she’d have a bad back after sleeping on a crappy couch.
Though he doubted she’d get kinks easily. She was twenty-one, after all. When he’d been her age, he could sleep in a weird yoga position and he’d still be good as new the next day.
Though right now, what he’d really prefer was to sleep with her. In a bed. To hold her again, and to kiss her.
