Liza stood there, her cheeks red. He figured she wasn’t going to let him walk behind her to the bed, since her hospital gown tied in the back with revealing gaps. With a smile, he picked her up, holding her against his chest.
“This way, no one will see anything, including me,” he promised her. The distance to the bed was ridiculously short, and he laid her down on the mattress.
“Ready for breakfast?” he asked, busying himself with putting the tray on the bed table and rolling it to her, then raising the head of the bed. Anything to dispel the memory of holding her against him.
He thought her eyes seemed brighter this morning. She gave the appearance of being stronger, even though she’d been trembling when she’d walked to the bathroom.
Lifting the metal covering from the plate, he revealed scrambled eggs, bacon, a biscuit and orange slices. “Hey, it looks good, doesn’t it?”
She pointed to the second tray. “You eat, too.”
“With pleasure. I didn’t wake up my housekeeper this morning. I need coffee.”
Her tray had milk instead of coffee, but she didn’t complain.
He settled on the edge of the bed, a no-no as far as the nurses were concerned, but he wanted to be close to her. To observe her, of course. That was the only reason.
She needed no urging this morning to eat. But she filled up quickly. He noticed she hadn’t eaten any bacon when she lay back against the pillows.
“Try a bite or two of bacon, in between orange slices,” he suggested.
“I’m full.”
“Just a bite or two. And the orange is especially sweet. You can’t let it go to waste.” He was pleased as he watched her do as he’d asked.
He’d almost finished his entire breakfast in the time it had taken her to eat half of hers. He stood and moved the bed tray as soon as she finished, stacking his empty tray beneath hers.
Then he returned to his seat on the bed and took her wrist in his hand. “So, how are you feeling now?”
“Much better, thank you,” she whispered.
He took a tongue depressor and looked at her throat. Then he checked her ears. “You know what? I think your diagnosis was correct. You needed rest, food and no stress. And antibiotics.” He grinned at her.
She smiled back. “Infection?”
“Maybe just the hint of one, but it’s not unusual when the entire body is under this kind of pressure. We caught it early, so it will go away fast. Are you allergic to anything?”
She shook her head no.
“Then I’ll be right back. Don’t go away.”
Liza watched the handsome doctor as he walked out of her room. He was being incredibly kind to her, especially after their confrontation in his office.
And because of him, she was feeling much better. Because of him and Emily’s phone call. Liza was thinking more clearly this morning. She even thought she might have the strength to get downstairs and call a taxi. She certainly didn’t want to cause the doctor any more trouble.
And she had to be back at the hotel for Emily’s phone call. Emily Blair Colton was her cousin, but their closeness was greater than that and had a lot to do with Liza’s own childhood.
Cynthia and Graham Colton, her mother and father, never showed any parental instincts. In fact, for as long as she could remember, Liza had considered her Aunt Meredith to be her true mother. She’d spent almost all summer every year at Uncle Joe and Aunt Meredith’s home in California. Even most school holidays. Her mother was pleased to be rid of Liza and her brother. Even though they lived fairly close to Joe and Meredith, since her father worked for Joe, Cynthia and Graham never visited during her stays.
Always imaginative, Liza had built up a fantasy that Meredith and Joe were her parents. Her time away from them was like boarding school. But she always came back to them.
From the moment Emily had been adopted by Meredith and Joe, Liza acted like her big sister, watching after her, making her feel more secure. Since she’d always longed for a sister, Liza took Emily to her heart. They’d become sisters by love if not by blood.
Nine years ago, while Liza was at her parents’ house, her beloved Aunt Meredith had taken Emily in the car to see her biological grandmother. There’d been a wreck…and Aunt Meredith had never been the same.
Her interest in any of her children had disappeared at once. The garden she tended so enthusiastically was neglected. The strong bond she shared with her husband seemed to have disappeared, and Uncle Joe began staying away from home more than he ever had. And he seldom spent time with his wife, where before they’d been devoted to each other.
The next time Liza had come back to their home, she’d discovered Emily pale and frightened. Only to Liza did she tell her secret. She’d seen two Merediths the day of the accident: a good Meredith and bad Meredith.
Liza at first rejected Emily’s story. But the longer she spent time around Aunt Meredith, the more she agreed that something horrible had happened. The woman she considered to be her mother seemed to have changed overnight. Both Emily and Liza had felt abandoned.
Though they’d kept in touch, she and Emily hadn’t spent as much time together after the accident, because Cynthia launched Liza’s singing career in earnest.
Then, a few days ago, Emily disappeared.
She’d called Liza the morning after her disappearance. Her tale of what had happened had scared Liza. Emily had promised to call again as soon as she could. Liza had been waiting for her call, afraid she might be trailed by the man Emily claimed had tried to do away with her earlier.
And she believed Emily’s story. She believed Aunt Meredith had hired someone to kill Emily, in spite of the kidnapper’s ransom note her uncle had received the next morning.
The door opened and she looked up, expecting either a nurse or Dr. Hathaway.
Instead, a strange man entered, dressed in jeans and a dirty blue shirt, a menacing look on his face and a long, sharp knife in his hand.
Three
Nick had gotten a prescription of antibiotics filled and was coming back to Liza’s room when he noticed a man standing in the doorway.
“Excuse me,” he said, smiling briefly. “Are you visiting Miss Colton?”
The man jerked in surprise and backed out of the door, tucking one hand behind his back, then turned and ran down the hall.
Nick’s first concern was Liza. He stepped in the room to discover his patient pale and shaking. “Liza, what’s wrong?”
“That—that man!” she exclaimed, her breathing shallow.
“You want me to stop him?”
She nodded urgently, but her eyes were fearful.
Nick shoved the medicine in his pocket, turned and ran for the elevators. At the nurse’s desk, he said, “Call Security. Have them stop the man who just left this floor. He was wearing jeans and a blue shirt.”
“He took the stairs,” one nurse said even as she dialed the phone.
Nick did the same, racing down the stairs. He burst through the door into the main lobby, but despite a thorough search of the area, especially the front doors, he didn’t see the man. Nick grabbed a security guard, but no one had seen the stranger.
“You want me to call the police, Dr. Hathaway?” the guard asked, eager to please.
“No,