“But you brought me to the reception,” she said, confused.
He didn’t meet her gaze. “It obviously meant a lot to you, seeing Markos again.” He didn’t speak for a few seconds, then spoke in a rush. “Strega, I need to tell you something. I don’t want you to-”
But a woman’s throaty cries cut him off. “Oh, yes! Give it to me! Oh, yes!”
“What the hell is that?”
Sabrina fumbled for her mobile inside her handbag. Of all the rotten timing! “Hello?” she answered impatiently, but the line had been cut off. “You were saying?” she prompted Luca.
A hospital orderly pushing a stretcher looked at them curiously. Luca took her by the elbow and ushered her to the lobby. “We can talk in the car,” he said.
The woman started porn-moaning again. Sabrina’s cheeks grew warm. She swore, answering the call quickly before the woman reached her orgasm. She heard Chase’s voice and tried to make out what he was saying through the bad connection. “You’re here?”
She had sent her friend an SMS message awhile back, informing her that she was at the emergency room due to a minor bump on the head and that she was fine. She didn’t know what time she would be discharged, she’ll keep him updated, and that Chase was not to worry if she didn’t meet him at the airport later in the afternoon.
“What do you mean you’re here?” she repeated loudly, the way someone tended to speak because of a bad connection.
Luca was scanning the driveway for their ride.
A black BMW pulled up in front of them. The driver stepped out and opened the passenger door smartly. And out came a man with dark hair, summer blue eyes, and a blinding smile. Someone who looked like-
There was a chorus of shrieks. Sabrina’s head whipped around. Why was there a crowd across the driveway fronting the lobby?
“Bree, honey. I’m here!”
Sabrina’s head swung in the direction of the sound, and her jaw dropped.
Suddenly, Chase Latimer was engulfing her in a tight embrace.
Sabrina realized it was not Chase’s smile that had blinded her, but the papparizzi flash bulbs.
All hell broke loose.
Chapter 21
The press pack descended on them. Someone jostled her, squishing her face onto Chase’s firm chest and wrenching her away from Luca.
People were shouting questions. Calling out Chase’s name.
“Luca!” She lifted her head from Chase’s pectorals as she recognized his voice shouting her name above the din. She twisted her head, trying to locate him, but the swarm of people blocked her view. Someone attempted to shove her inside the car. She resisted by clinging to the door frame.
“Jesus, Bree! Get in!” Chase pushed her inside the car.
The door slammed shut and before she could even wrap her head around what had happened, the vehicle was already speeding away.
They were both breathing heavily.
Chase managed to speak first. “I don’t know how the press could have known I was here! I just landed thirty minutes ago!”
“They don’t.” She peered through the heavily tinted window, hoping she could catch a glimpse of Luca but at the rapidly widening distance, she couldn’t make him out from the throng. “They’re here because of what happened at the royal reception.” She gave up and slumped back against the leather seat. “You’re just the bonus.” Then she reared back up at the horrifying thought that her parentage and how she came about would be splashed all over the tabloids by tomorrow.
Slow, steady breaths. She invoked Luca’s calming voice. No one except her, Luca, and the Konstantinos family had been in the hospital room during the revelation.
“What did I miss?” Chase’s keen powers of observation were probably noting her puffy eyes and red nose.
“You’ll catch up on it on the tabloids tomorrow.” Chase wisely didn’t press her. She’d eventually tell him about it, but not now, not when everything was still new and raw. “I thought you were arriving tomorrow.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “Or rather later.”
“I’m so glad you’re so happy to see me,” Chase said, a bit miffed at her lack of enthusiasm.
“I’m always happy to see you.” She kissed him on the cheek.
“I hitched a ride on a private jet.” Chase sniffed. “You reek of alcohol. Are you drunk?”
“I wish I was.” She shrugged off Luca’s coat.
Chase gasped. “Poor darling!”
His outraged response gratified her soul. “Someone just spilled wine on me. Deliberately. But I’m fine.”
“I was talking about the dress!” He switched the light on to see her, or rather, the gown better. “Jesus! Look at the craftsmanship, the detailing. Whoever spilled the wine should be apprehended for crimes against fashion!”