“Whatever. Once the doctor gets here and lets us know how you are, I’ll contact Megan and then I’ll leave.”
Sydney pointed to the door and almost winced as the IV needle in her wrist pinched her, but she stopped herself. She wasn’t going to let him think she couldn’t handle pain. “You can leave now. I’ll call Megan myself. Besides, what makes you think I want you present when the doctor arrives? My medical condition is a private matter, Counselor.”
He chuckled sarcastically. “Because I’m your husband, babe.” He winked and sat in the chair next to the bed.
“If I wasn’t hooked up to all these freakin’ machines, I’d walk out of here right now!” She turned on her side, facing away from him, and pressed the button for the flat-screen television mounted on the wall opposite the bed.
“Trust me. I don’t want to be here, either. I’m only here for Megan’s peace of mind. She’s worried, but I just sent her a text that I’m here and you’re in very good hands.”
Sydney glanced over her shoulder at him with a cold stare, but his eyes didn’t meet with hers. Instead, he smiled like a Cheshire cat and his gaze was mesmerized on her butt as he bit his bottom lip. His eyes jerked to hers out of his trance, and she reached to the bottom of the bed to yank the blanket up to the middle of her back. When she glanced at him again, Bryce was arrogantly smiling at her. She turned over with a huff and hoped the doctor would be in soon. Of all the people Megan could’ve called, why on earth did she call him?
She knows how much I despise this cocky, egotistical, self-centered man.
They watched reruns of The Cosby Show in silence except for a few laughs here and there. The nurse came in briefly to check on her and to inform them that the doctor would be in momentarily with the test results. She felt much better than when she arrived. Considering the IV bag was almost empty, perhaps there was no need for another one. Besides, the fact that Bryce was behind her sent uncomfortable prickles along her skin, especially since his woodsy, spicy scent was now embedded on her thanks to his unruly kiss.
A light knock on the door was a sound of relief. She couldn’t stand another minute alone with Bryce. She sat up, and he came over to assist in propping up the pillows behind her back.
“Come in.”
An older Caucasian man wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck entered with a small laptop. She glanced at his name sewn onto the lapel and was relieved to see Doctor in front of Smith. Then fear set in and her leg began to tremble as she anxiously waited to hear what Dr. Smith had to say about her test results. What if something was actually wrong with her other than exhaustion and dehydration? She glanced at Bryce, who was still standing by the side of the bed, and instinctively reached out to squeeze his hand. He looked down, gently squeezed her hand back and gave her a comforting smile. But it wasn’t one of his cocky, arrogant, wicked smiles that he usually bestowed on her. It was honest and sincere.
“It’s going to be alright, Syd,” he reassured her, nodding his head before placing his attention back on the doctor.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Chase. I’m Dr. Smith.”
Bryce reached out to shake his hand, and she followed his action. When Bryce grabbed her hand once more, interlocking his fingers with hers, she was surprised. She couldn’t believe he was really keeping up this charade of being her husband.
“Well, Sydney, looks like you’ve been a very busy woman lately working around the clock,” Dr. Smith began, scrolling through his laptop screen. “According to your medical history, this isn’t the first time you’ve had this issue. Your primary care physician’s office sent over your information.”
“Yes...I just need some rest.”
“I agree, and you need to eat. Your blood sugar is low but everything else is fine. Luckily no concussion when you passed out and your CT scan was negative. However, Mr. Chase, I would closely watch over her during the next twelve hours just to make sure she’s fine. Symptoms to watch out for would be headache, vomiting, slurred speech, trouble remembering things, weakness and maybe a seizure, but I don’t see any of that happening. If it does, bring her back here. Just make sure she rests and eats something.”
“I’ll make sure she does.”
The doctor typed something on his laptop and glanced up at Bryce with a smile. “It’s Valentine’s Day, so make her a nice dinner. Spoil her tonight.”
“I was just thinking the same thing, Doc. I’ll definitely take care of my baby.”
Sydney thought surely she’d vomit followed by a seizure just from hearing the conversation between the men in front of her.
“So, I’m free to go, Doc?”
“Yep. In about thirty minutes.”
Sydney breathed out a sigh of relief. Now she could get away from Bryce. “Oh. By the way. What kind of medication was in the IV bag?”
“No medication,” Dr. Smith answered, glancing up from his laptop. “Just nutrients to replenish your system.”
“Sooooooooo no real medication or anything?”
“Nope.”
“Oh.” Syd nodded, slowly removing her hand from Bryce’s as her palm began to sweat. The doctor and Bryce continued to speak about the checking-out process, but they sounded like the adults on the Charlie Brown cartoons. She was speechless. She’d thought surely she was on some type of drug when Bryce had kissed her and she’d willingly responded—and rather enjoyed it. Why else would she even let him kiss her for so long? Sure, the man apparently knew how to kiss. His tongue had done things with hers that should’ve been outlawed in the state of Georgia. Heck, every state and country, even. And that was just in one place. She had other regions on her body that wouldn’t have minded a tongue journey. When he’d glided his hand sensually down her arm and pulled her by the hair deeper into his mouth, she had the urge to seduce him right then, not caring that nurses were watching their escapade. No. It had to be something in that damn bag to make her hallucinate and think that she could actually kiss Bryce Monroe and enjoy it. Enjoy him to the point of desiring more.
No. No. No. No. No.
Once Sydney was settled onto the plush leather seat of Bryce’s Benz, she knew it was time to escape. Her goal had been to say goodbye to him in the elevator, but the hospital had other plans. She’d tried to protest to the nurse about taking her out in the wheelchair, but apparently it was protocol. Her devoted husband had skedaddled out to pull his car around to the patient pick-up area. When they arrived, he’d lifted her up gently from the chair and placed her in the front seat with a knowing gleam before turning around and thanking the nurse for taking good care of her.
Sydney turned to Bryce as he started the car and drove around the winding road toward the parking lot exit.
“Thank you for everything. I sincerely appreciate you coming and checking on me...for Megan.”
He glanced at her. “No problem. We’re family. So tell me how to get to your place.”
“Oh...no... You can just drop me off at the bus stop over on Church Street by the Infiniti dealership.” She grabbed her purse from the floor and rummaged through her wallet, searching for her MARTA card. “It’s on the left-hand side about one block from here.”
“You’re not taking the bus to get home.”
“It’s no problem. I take MARTA sometimes.” She found the card and slipped it into the inside pocket of her waist-length leather coat. A dizzy wave overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes for a second, resting her head on the headrest.
“Yes, but not when you’re being released from the hospital.”