His Suitable Bride(112)

‘You can. Here …’

She felt Isandro put his hands over hers and warmth seemed to seep through her chilled skin. She felt Zac move instinctively towards his father, and somehow, finally, she was able to relax her arms from their death grip.

He took Zac and held him close for a long moment, and then she watched incredulously as he handed him to someone behind him. Then he turned to her and took her hands in his again. ‘Do you think you can walk?’

She nodded, feeling slightly removed from everything. Why wasn’t he just leaving now that Zac was okay?

‘Of course—I’m fine—’ She took a step and her legs promptly gave way, but as if he’d been expecting it Isandro caught her and scooped her up into his arms.

Rowan’s mouth felt funny, and as they came out into the other room her eyes blinked in the intense light. Isandro was looking at her. At her mouth.

‘What happened?’

An ugly voice came from beside the door. ‘I hit her when your brat wouldn’t shut up.’

Rowan tensed immediately in reaction to the horribly familiar voice and knew the two men were there, albeit probably tied up. She felt Isandro tense too. But without a word he walked outside and gently placed her in the back of a warmed Jeep, beside Zac, who was in a baby seat being tended to by a female police officer who smiled kindly at Rowan.

Rowan vaguely took in all the police, the flashing lights. She heard a scuffle and then Isandro was walking back out and cradling his hand. He sat into the front passenger side of the Jeep and the driver expertly swung them around to drive away.

Rowan knew he’d gone back in there and hit the man, and she felt glad. Because she would have hit him herself if she’d had the strength.

Sleep was rising to claim her. She couldn’t fight it, but she had to ask, ‘Hernán? How is Hernán?’

Isandro turned around, but he was a blur in her vision. ‘He’s in the hospital. He’s going to be fine, thanks to you and the phone.’

His voice got further and further away …

Rowan woke as she was being carried into the house. It took a minute for things to seep into her consciousness, and when they did she tensed rigid. ‘Zac—where’s Zac? Who has him? Where—?’

‘He’s fine. He’s with Ana-Lucía. She’s feeding him and bathing him.’

Rowan struggled to be free from Isandro’s arms. ‘I don’t believe you. I need to see him.’

His arms tightened around her. ‘Rowan, relax. He’s fine. I need to clean that cut on your lip, and then you need to eat too.’

Rowan forced herself to relax and let him carry her. It felt so good to be held like this, against his broad chest. She felt protected and cherished and safe. It was dangerous.

He let her drop outside his door, let her legs touch the ground. Rowan took a step. They felt shaky, but okay. He held her hand and she followed him into his room and to the bathroom. He made her sit down on the toilet. Then he rummaged for a first aid kit and pulled it down. Coming onto his haunches in front of her, he took out cotton wool and antiseptic. He dabbed at her lip and she sucked in a breath at the sharp pain. She noticed then that she was filthy. Dust and grime everywhere. Blood smeared on her T-shirt.

Isandro cast her a glance. ‘You must have been freezing. It was almost zero degrees up there, you were so high.’

Rowan shook her head. She genuinely hadn’t felt the cold. ‘I don’t … I didn’t feel it. Had to keep the blanket on Zac in case he got cold …’ Her teeth started chattering then, as if his words had unlocked something she’d been clinging onto, some control. She valiantly tried to hide it.

A look crossed Isandro’s face, and then he said, ‘I’ll be back in a second.’

He got up and left the room, and she heard him go out into the corridor. She stood up shakily and looked at herself in the mirror. She was white, with two bright red spots in her cheeks. Her eyes were overbright too. A lurid cut snaked out from the side of her lip and throbbed painfully. Efficiently she started to pack away the first aid kit.

‘Leave it—I’ll do that. Sit down.’

‘Oh.’ Rowan hadn’t heard him come back. She sat down and watched as he held out a tumbler. The smell of brandy hit her nostrils as he held it up to the side of her mouth that wasn’t split, making her drink some. She didn’t argue; the shivering was still there. The liquid burnt its way down her throat and she coughed slightly, but she could feel it going to work, warming her insides, calming the uncontrollable shivering.

‘I’m sorry—this would never have happened if … I can’t believe I put Zac in such danger …’