Fierce Passion

by Phoebe Conn

  “Of course. You left only a minute ago. What’s going on out there?”

  Two uniformed security guards came sprinting from the elevator, and Alejandro pointed them toward the exit door. “He’s a big blond guy in a doctor’s coat.”

  Alejandro picked up the tray and handed it to Maja. “Did he hurt you?”

  She straightened her uniform. “He just rattled my teeth, that’s all. He’ll be on the security cameras. They’ll catch him.”

  “I hope so.” He went into Ana’s room and gave her a quick account of the scuffle in the hall. “I’m calling Montoya. Maybe the guy is an ambitious paparazzo, but he could have been someone more dangerous.”

  “A big blond guy you said? Ask Montoya to bring the S&M photos from Campos’s studio. There was a blond with a mask, but maybe you can recognize him from his build.”

  “I will, and as soon as we’ve talked to Montoya, I’m taking you out of here,” he said, his tone emphatic.

  A wide yawn took her both hands to cover. “It would be so nice to go home, if they’ll let me.”

  “Not home. We’ll board the Siren a few days early.”

  She cocked her head slightly. “Can we do that?”

  He laughed and kissed her. “It’s an Ortiz ship, Ana. I can do whatever I like.”

  “I suppose that’s good.” She caught his hand as he drew back.

  “You don’t look convinced.”

  She licked her lips. “Some believe it’s important for people to earn things for themselves in order to really appreciate them.”

  He squeezed her fingers before releasing her hand and leaned against the foot rail as he pulled Montoya’s card from his wallet. “Even if you don’t count how difficult it is to be Orlando Ortiz’s son, I deserve credit for earning two college degrees on my own.”

  “Of course you do.”

  It was a quick call, and Montoya promised to be there within ten minutes. Alejandro shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Do I strike you as being ungrateful?”

  “No, not at all. You’re generous and kind.”

  “Thank you. I’d hate for you to suddenly decide you’ve married the wrong man.”

  She finished her juice and set the glass on the night table. “Not yet. Did you make a wonderfully romantic proposal?”

  He paced beside her bed. He’d already strayed so far from the truth he might as well embellish it. “It was extraordinary, poetic and so passionate you threw yourself into my arms.”

  “I’m trying to picture it but just draw a blank. It must be worth repeating. Please propose to me again so I’ll remember it this time.”

  With a befuddled gaze, she was so innocently appealing he wished he had actually proposed. “It was spontaneous. I could never recapture the moment.”

  “You could give it your best effort.”

  “I don’t want to disappoint you. Let me work on it.”

  “Please do. The Siren’s captain could marry us, couldn’t he? Then I’d have a wedding ceremony to remember.”

  He swallowed hard, but with a man posing as a doctor to get into her room, this was an odd time to plan a wedding. “Captains can marry people at sea, but let’s talk about it after we’re safely on board.”

  Her voice was feather soft. “Have you decided you don’t want to be married to me?”

  “Impossible,” he assured her. He was grateful her beautiful green eyes still couldn’t see clearly, because his perplexed expression would have instantly given away the whole preposterous fantasy. Marrying her on board the Siren would simplify everything. He was grateful she’d thought of it before he had to convince her an ocean wedding would be wonderfully romantic and suit them perfectly.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Montoya spoke with the director of the hospital security force before entering Ana’s room. “The hospital security cameras caught it all. The man came through the kitchen carrying what appeared to be a food delivery. It proved to be a carton containing a white coat and clipboard. He went up the service stairs, pulled on the white coat, grabbed the clipboard and came out on this floor. He dropped the clipboard running back down the stairs, and we’re checking it for prints. He eluded the guards and walked out the front entrance with the white coat tucked under his arm. The whole time he kept his chin tucked to his chest, so we have no clear images of his face, but he could very well be the blond in Mr. Campos’s S&M scenes.”

  Alejandro studied the photos Montoya had shown Ana at the police station. “From the width of the shoulders, he could have been the man here. Didn’t Jaime have any photos of him without a mask?”

  “He may have, but they weren’t in his files when we went through them. You said the man spoke to you. Did he have an accent, or an unusual way of speaking?”

  “He was brusque, as though he were needed elsewhere. It was his size that caught my attention. He simply looked out of place, but the fact he had no ID badge gave him away.”

  “What do you suppose he planned to do if he’d gotten into my room?” Ana asked.

  Montoya shrugged and straightened his tie. “He may have only wanted to make certain you aren’t half-dead as the tabloids reported. Or, he could have planned to take a photo to prove it. He ran when you confronted him, Mr. Vasquez, but if he’d meant to do Miss Santillan any serious harm, he would have struck you hard enough to knock you out and incapacitated the nurse.”

  “You’ve no proof of what his intentions actually were,” Alejandro replied. “If a man without an ID can get so close to Ana, it’s clear she isn’t safe here.”

  “With a well-known patient, it’s an unusual situation,” Montoya began, “but I believe hospital security can handle any other intruders.”

  “Really?” Alejandro challenged. “If no one is observing the security cameras until after an event occurs, they aren’t a force I’ll trust. We’ll move to the Mediterranean Siren. She’s in port, and on Friday, we’ll leave on a two-week cruise.”

  The detective regarded Alejandro with a dark stare. “I don’t believe it’s necessary for Miss Santillan to leave the country.”

  “I don’t care what you believe. If the elevator had come any faster, I’d have been gone when the man reached this floor. He could have easily knocked the nurse senseless and done whatever he intended to do. I won’t risk it happening again.”

  “Alejandro is right,” Ana added softly. “It’s bad enough to be confined to a bed. To have to be on guard for dangerous intruders is too much. If Dr. Pallares won’t release me, I’ll leave on my own. I can ride in the backseat of your SUV, Alejandro. You needn’t hire an ambulance for me.”

  Montoya sent a disapproving glance between them. “Do as you wish. I’ll contact you if I have any news. I do hope your recovery will progress smoothly, Miss Santillan.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alejandro closed the door behind the detective and leaned against it. “He may be hiding more than he’s willing to reveal. He’s looking for who killed Jaime, but I’m also interested in the why. One of Jaime’s last projects had to have been the art photography he mentioned to you. He’d have gotten greater publicity if you’d been involved.”

  “Don’t make this about me,” Ana answered crossly. “If he’d told me there had been threats to his life, I’d have done it. He pitched an art series, and Valeria said he’d asked her to be part of it too. Lourdes was also there on Mallorca. He might have spoken to her as well.”

  “Do you have her number?”

  “No, but I could call Gian Carlo and see if he’s still at her place.” Her phone was beside her bed, and she handed it to him. “Will you find him, please?”

  He did, but spoke to Gian Carlo first and described the man who’d tried to get into Ana’s room. “Do you know anyone he might have been? He would have known Jaime Campos.”

  “I saw Jaime on shoots. I didn’t hang out with him. I’ve no idea who his friends were, although whoever murdered him couldn’t have been much of a friend. How is Ana?”

  Alej
andro handed Ana her phone, went out into the hall and fought to control his rioting imagination. At best, a paparazzo had gotten into the hospital hoping for a quick photo of Ana. It would have been worth quite a bit to the tabloids and kept readers buying papers to follow the story. At worst, the intruder had been sent for another reason entirely, but what?

  Maja came up to him. “Would you like some candy? A good chocolate bar is the best medicine for the scare we’ve had today.”

  He felt too sick to want candy. “Ana would like whatever you have.” He followed her down to the nurses’ station, where she pulled open a drawer filled with a variety of chocolate bars. He chose a couple. “Let me pay for these.”

  “Absolutely not,” Maja insisted. “Although we do take donations to replenish our supply and be prepared for emergencies.”

  He pulled out his wallet and gave her a couple of bills. “I just hope there aren’t any more involving us.”

  Ana was still on the phone when he returned to her room. He went to the window and waited for her to tell Lourdes good-bye. There were no armed men standing in the street, but he still felt uneasy and the candy began to look a whole lot better to him.

  Ana ended the call. “Campos did ask Lourdes to be part of his nude series. She agreed, and in addition to being paid for posing, she wanted a percentage of the sales of the book. They were discussing money when he was killed. I asked if she knew any big, muscular blonds, and she doesn’t. Maybe they’ll identify him from his fingerprints on the clipboard.”

  “I hope so.” He gave her a choice of chocolate bar and opened the wrapper for her before opening the other for himself. “I want you to tell Fatima what clothes you’d like her to pack. She thought she knew, but you might want something she’d not thought of.”

  “Give me a minute to savor this. I love almonds wrapped in chocolate. Did you know that?”

  “We hadn’t gotten to candy preferences, so I’m glad I picked one you like.”

  “You’re the dream husband, Alejandro. I hope you don’t tire of my saying it.”

  “Never,” he assured her between bites, increasingly grateful she couldn’t recall they weren’t really man and wife. If they got married at sea, she’d believe it was for the second time, and he’d not have to tell her otherwise. A good marriage, however, ought to be based on truth, and he’d not uttered a word of it.

  With doctors to see and luggage to pick up, it was nearly sunset by the time they were ready to leave the hospital. Alejandro had brought a deep blue wrap dress Fatima had been sure Ana could wear and her Goth wig. She brushed it forward to cover her bandaged cheek and donned her sunglasses. An orderly pushed her wheelchair out to the parking garage where Alejandro waited. They hadn’t attracted any notice before driving away, but she couldn’t relax until she smelled the sea as they neared the docks.

  “That was too easy,” she murmured.

  “Some things have to go our way,” he assured her. “I called to let the ship’s staff know we’re coming. They’ll meet us with a wheelchair, and once we’re on board, security won’t be a problem.”

  “I hope not.” She clutched the roomy handbag Fatima had sent along after her favorite had been ruined in the crash. It contained her camera, passport, wallet, notebook for listing her whereabouts and her makeup. “What do they call the medical unit on a ship?”

  “The sick bay.”

  “Right, I knew it wasn’t the brig. That’s the jail, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. We have physicians on board all our ships—nurses, pharmacists, hair stylists, anything you could possibly need.”

  “Good. Do you suppose there will be a walker I could use? I’m well-coordinated, and I’d rather hop around using a walker than have to depend on a wheelchair.”

  “Can you see clearly?”

  She slumped back in her seat. “No, but I’m getting better.”

  “Then let’s wait until you can see where you’re going before you strike out on your own.”

  “Are you always this sensible?”

  “I hope so. One of us has to be.”

  “What makes you think I’m not? I’ve been taking care of myself since I was in my teens, and I don’t do foolish things.” Unless she counted marrying a man she barely knew, and time would tell how foolish that had been.

  He parked where they could board with their luggage and reached over to squeeze her hand. “I didn’t say you made foolish choices. I just don’t want you to worry you’ll have to keep doing everything on your own. Let me handle whatever I can.”

  She bit her lip. “I hadn’t planned to even think about marriage before I reached thirty, so I’ll need a while to get used to the idea of having a husband. I don’t want to fight over things.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never been married, but some couples fight all the time, and I don’t want that.”

  “Neither do I. Here’s a steward with the wheelchair.” He left the car to open the back, and a second steward handled their luggage.

  Their cabin was a duplicate of the one she’d seen on board the Goddess, even to the bathing suits in the closet. She’d been eager to leave the hospital, but the move left her completely drained. She’d been too shaky to attempt using crutches and hadn’t left the hospital with a pair. She loved to walk and dance, and being confined to a wheelchair was torture. It couldn’t be easy for him either. “This cruise isn’t going to be much fun for you.”

  “Describe fun.”

  “I have the energy of a teabag left too long in the pot. How am I going to be able to do anything with you?”

  He laughed. “I can visualize having fun with a teabag.”

  “I’m imagining the sly gleam in your eye even if I can’t see it clearly. What time is dinner?”

  “We’ll eat at the captain’s table once the voyage begins, but now we can eat as soon as the kitchen prepares whatever you’d like. Are you hungry?”

  “Not really, but I can eat, if not much else.”

  “We’ll concentrate on what you can do then. The library has audio books. Do you ever listen to those?”

  “I love them for trips.” She took a deep breath, but felt so uncomfortable in her own skin it brought no relief. She rubbed her arms. “Maybe it’s post-traumatic stress, but I don’t feel right.”

  Clearly concerned, he knelt beside her. “I’ll see if the physician is already on board.”

  “No, don’t bother him, or her. I’m not used to feeling so helpless. For now, we can’t do anything about it.”

  He kissed her cheek, stood and pulled open the small refrigerator hidden in a cabinet. “Maybe it’s low blood sugar. Would you like some orange juice?”

  “Yes, thank you. I could pretend I’m a princess who’s used to being waited on, rather than a runway model who’s unable to stand. Is there a limit to the number of requests per day?”

  He handed her a glass of juice. “I’ll let you know when you’re close.”

  She looked up at him and wanted to believe he was a little bit clearer. “Then what?”

  “We’ll start over.”

  The teasing promise in his voice made her giggle, and she nearly sprayed juice through her nose. “Hotel refrigerators usually have mixed nuts. Are there any here?”

  “A big jar.” He poured some into a napkin and carefully laid it into her hand. “I need to move my car into the long-term garage. Will you be all right while I’m gone?”

  “Look, I’m sitting up without being dizzy, and that’s real progress.”

  “Maybe I should move you to the bed.”

  “No, I’m fine. Just turn me around so I can look out at the port. It’s such a colorful, relaxing blur.”

  He moved her close to the balcony but left the sliding door closed. “This is why I wanted to bring you here, where you’ll never tire of the view.”

  “Not as long as you’re in it.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “So now you’re a flirtatious teabag?”

  �
�A flirtatious Goth teabag,” she corrected. “Hurry back.”

  “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

  Alejandro moved his SUV and spent several minutes debating whether or not to stop by his father’s office. He hadn’t forgiven him for telling him to dump Ana, but he’d relied on the man’s generosity for a cruise on the Mediterranean Siren. They had nothing in common other than the family name he refused to use, but he felt he ought to take the time to see him. He found his father pacing his office with a drink in his hand.

  “My God, Alejandro, you’ve come by so often lately you’ll soon be mistaken for one of my staff.” He raised his glass. “May I offer you a drink?”

  “No, thank you. I just came by to tell you Ana was able to leave the hospital and we’ve boarded the Siren a couple of days early.”

  Orlando leaned back against his desk. “Fine. I hope you noticed I didn’t call when the tabloids reported you’d married her. You insist they print nothing but lies, and it struck me as a particularly preposterous one. At least I hope it is.”

  Alejandro hadn’t planned to stay long enough to sit down. He remained standing and told the truth. “We aren’t married, at least not yet.”

  Orlando took a step toward him. “Keep it that way.”

  From long experience, Alejandro recognized the threat in his father’s voice, but now grown, it no longer fazed him. “I’ll see you when we get back.”

  “Does your mother know you’ll be visiting Greece?”

  He paused at the door. “I’ll call her.”

  “Do, and send her my best.”

  From what Alejandro remembered of his parents as a couple, his mother had had incredible forbearance where his father was concerned, and she certainly hadn’t seen his best, if he even had one. “I will. Good-bye.”

  He offered Ana an apology as he came through their cabin door. “I’m sorry to be gone so long. I stopped by my father’s office, and while our conversations are never long, I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

  She raised her hand to his cheek as he leaned down to kiss her. “I don’t require such doting care, Alejandro. I don’t mind sitting alone with my thoughts. We’re not sailing until Friday, and weren’t you going on some job interviews?”