She knew Juliet’s condition needed to be her primary concern, but she had so many other questions she wanted to ask him. “I’m surprised to find you here in Seville. I thought you lived in Madrid?”
He didn’t answer right away, and she thought she saw a flash of guilt shadow his dark eyes. She glanced away, embarrassed. She didn’t want him feeling guilty for the night they’d shared together. Or for leaving so abruptly when notified of his father’s illness. It wasn’t as if they’d been dating or anything.
Neither was it his fault she’d let her feelings spin out of control that night.
When she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d called his cell phone, the only number she’d had, but the number had already been out of service. She’d assumed he hadn’t kept his old American phone once he’d returned to Spain. She’d looked for him on several social media sites, but hadn’t found him. After about six months she’d stopped trying.
“I live here,” he said simply. “My family’s olive farm is just twenty minutes outside Seville.”
“I see,” she said, although she really didn’t. Obviously, she hadn’t known much about Miguel’s family. She could hardly picture him growing up on an olive farm. She’d simply assumed because he was a Madrid exchange student that he’d lived there. She forced a smile, wishing they could recapture the easy camaraderie they’d once shared. “How’s your father?”
“He passed away three and a half years ago.” The shadows in Miguel’s eyes betrayed his grief.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured helplessly. She’d known that Miguel had needed to return to Spain when his father had been sick, but she was a little surprised that he’d stayed here, even after his father had passed away.
During the night they’d shared together he’d confided about how he dreamed of joining Doctors Without Borders. When she hadn’t been able to get in touch with Miguel once she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d imagined him working in some distant country.
Why hadn’t he followed his dream? He’d told her about how he was only waiting to be finished with his family obligations. And his father had passed away three and a half years ago. He should have been long gone by now.
Not that Miguel’s choices were any of her business.
Except, now that he was here, how was she going to tell him about their son?
Panic soared, squeezing the air from her lungs. She struggled to take a deep breath, trying to calm her jagged nerves. Right now she needed to focus on her sister. She pulled herself together with an effort. “Will you please tell me about Juliet’s head injury? How bad is it? What exactly is her neuro status?”
“Your sister’s condition is serious, but stable. She responds to pain now, which she wasn’t doing at first. She does have a subarachnoid hemorrhage that we are monitoring very closely.”
A subarachnoid hemorrhage wasn’t good news, but she’d been prepared for that. “Is she following commands?” Kat asked.
“Not yet, but she’s young, Katerina. She has a good chance of getting through this.”
She gave a tight nod, wanting to believe him. “I know. I’m hopeful that she’ll wake up soon.”
“Katerina, I have to get to surgery as I have a patient waiting, but I would like to see you again. Would you please join me for dinner tonight? Say around eight-thirty or nine?”
She blinked in surprise and tried to think of a graceful way out of the invitation. She knew he was asking her out from some sense of obligation, because they’d spent one intense night together.
But she needed time to get the fog of fatigue out of her mind. Time to think about if and when to share the news about Tommy. Obviously Miguel deserved to know the truth, but what about Tommy? Did he deserve a father who didn’t want him? A father who’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for a family?
She didn’t know what to do.
“I’m sorry, but I’m sure I’ll be asleep by then,” she murmured, averting her gaze to look at her sister. “I just flew in today and I’m a bit jet-lagged.”
She steeled herself against the flash of disappointment in his eyes. Juliet’s well-being came first. And Tommy’s was a close second.
As far as she was concerned, Miguel Vasquez would just have to wait.
Miguel couldn’t believe Katerina Richardson was actually here, in Seville.
He allowed his gaze to roam over her, branding her image on his mind. She wasn’t beautiful in the classical sense, but he’d always found her attractive with her peaches and cream complexion and long golden blonde hair that she normally wore in a ponytail. Except for that one night, when he’d run his fingers through the silk tresses.
To this day he couldn’t explain why he’d broken his cardinal rule by asking her out. Granted, he’d been devastated over losing their patient, but he’d been determined to avoid emotional entanglements, knowing he was leaving when the year was up. He knew better than to let down his guard, but he’d been very attracted to Katerina and had suspected the feeling was mutual. That night he’d given up his fight to stay away.
But then the news about his father’s stroke had pulled him from Katerina’s bed the next morning. He’d rushed home to Seville. His father’s condition had been worse than he’d imagined, and his father had ultimately died twelve painful months later. His mother was already gone, and during his father’s illness his younger brother, Luis, had started drinking. Miguel had been forced to put his own dreams on hold to take over the olive farm, which had been in the Vasquez family for generations, until he could get Luis sobered up.
His visceral reaction to seeing Katerina again stunned him. He hadn’t allowed himself to miss her. Besides, he only had three months left on his contract here at the hospital and he’d be finally free to join Doctors Without Borders.
And this time, nothing was going to stop him. Not his brother Luis. And certainly not Katerina.
He shook off his thoughts with an effort. Logically he knew he should accept her excuse, but he found himself pressing the issue. “Maybe a light meal after siesta, then? Certainly you have to eat some time.”
There was a wariness reflected in her green eyes that hadn’t been there in the past. He wondered what had changed in the four and a half years they’d been apart. He was relieved to note she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring even though her personal life wasn’t any of his business. He couldn’t allow himself to succumb to Katerina’s spell—he refused to make the same mistakes his father had.
“You’ve described my sister’s head injury, but is there anything else? Other injuries I need to be aware of?” she asked, changing the subject.
He dragged his attention to his patient. “Juliet was hit on the right side. Her right leg is broken in two places and we had to operate to get the bones aligned properly. She has several rib fractures and some internal bleeding that appears to be resolving. Her head injury is the greatest of our concerns. Up until late yesterday she wasn’t responding at all, even to pain. The fact that there is some response now gives us hope she may recover.”
Katerina’s pale skin blanched even more, and his gut clenched when he noted the tears shimmering in her bright green eyes. They reminded him, too much, about the night they’d shared. An intense, intimate, magical night that had ended abruptly with his brother’s phone call about their father. She’d cried for him when he’d been unable to cry for himself.
“When can she be transported back to the United States?” she asked.
The instinctive protest at the thought of her leaving surprised him. What was wrong with him? He wrestled his emotions under control. “Not until I’m convinced her neurological status has