Page 49 of Never Too Late

Elyna acted as my interpreter again, the cold edge of panic gradually receding as the nurse told us that Laurent had come through the surgery, and that although the anesthetic meant he wouldn’t wake up anytime soon and his spleen had needed to be removed, he would be absolutely fine.

“Can I see him?” I asked. “Just for a few minutes.”

The nurse frowned. “Êtes-vous de la famille?”

I didn’t need an interpreter for that one. “Non… But…” I didn’t get any further, the nurse already shaking her head. “I guess I just go home then,” I said dejectedly. A glance at Cillian revealed an expression I’d only ever seen him wear at work, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed.

“Leave it to me,” he said. “Elyna, could I borrow you for a few minutes? Would that be too much of an imposition?”

“Not at all,” she said, almost falling over herself in her haste to go with him.

He pressed a gentle kiss to my brow. “Wait here! I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cillian, you don’t have to…”

He winked, and then he was gone with Elyna in tow. Andre shrugged as I sat back down, but didn’t comment. They were gone less than five minutes, a triumphant expression on Cillian’s face when they reappeared. He gestured for me to join him as a smiling Elyna returned to her seat. She made an exaggerated fanning motion with her hand. “So persuasive. I almost swooned.”

“He’s in advertising,” I said. “It comes with the job.”

She winked. “But I bet it’s not always delivered with such charm and panache.”

“Probably not,” I admitted. “I think that’s the Irish blood. You know, the kissing the Blarney Stone, and all that.”

“I only got you five minutes,” Cillian said as he led me out of the room and down the corridor. “And only you’re allowed to go in. I need to wait outside.”

“Five minutes is fine,” I said. “I’m beyond grateful. Thank you. I just… need to see him.”

“Bear in mind he won’t look great,” Cillian advised. “Remember, he’s just gotten out of surgery and that he’s had one hell of a shock to the system. Apparently, there’s a lot of bruising and swelling.”

“A bus hit him,” I pointed out. “I’m not expecting him to look great. I just need to see him…” I gave an embarrassed little laugh. “Well… breathing.”

Despite my assurances to Cillian, the first sight of Laurent was like being hit in the chest with a battering ram, and I stood at the edge of the room, reluctant to venture any further. After giving myself a good talking to, I edged closer to the bed. After all, I’d asked for this and Cillian had done everything in his power to get it for me. It would be beyond ungrateful after all the effort he’d put in to turn around and say I’d changed my mind and I’d wait until Laurent regained consciousness.

For a moment, I seriously considered that someone had given Cillian the wrong room information as I stared at the swollen-faced man in the bed, unable to recognize Laurent. It wasn’t until I focused on the hair that I relaxed slightly. The hair was unmistakably Laurent’s. And as I ran my eyes over the parts of him not hidden beneath the white hospital sheet, the small tattoo of a wolf on his right biceps was a giveaway as well.

Laurent was attached to various machines, the heart rate monitor showing the peaks and troughs of his individual heartbeats providing some reassurance. “Hey,” I said, even though I knew my voice wasn’t about to rouse him. “You look like you had a fight with a bus and came off worse.”

I moved to stand right next to the bed, reaching out and laying my hand over Laurent’s, careful to avoid the drip that fed directly into his vein. “They wouldn’t let me in to see you, but Cillian waved his magical persuasion wand and wrangled it. And no, that’s not a euphemism. I’m not talking about that part of his anatomy.”

I frowned at the words I’d just said. “I probably should have started by saying that Cillian jumped on a plane tonight and he’s here. Which is… yeah. You’d probably have a more cynical twist to put on it if you were awake. So…” I gave his hand a squeeze. “Wake up soon, yeah, and then you can tell me Cillian’s true intentions in rushing to Paris.”

The door creaked open, a nurse appearing in the doorway. He didn’t need to say anything for me to know my time was up, and that it was better not to push things. “I have to go,” I said. “But don’t worry about anything. I’ll let work know what’s happened and that you’re going to need some time off.” I grimaced at the realization that neither of us was going to be making it in tomorrow—or more accurately today, the clock having passed midnight long before I’d ever reached the hospital. “And I promise I’ll be back to see you tomorrow as soon as I’ve had some sleep. You can make up some story about how it was all the bus’s fault.” I gave his hand one last squeeze before heading for the door, Cillian waiting outside.

“I don’t have a hotel,” Cillian said once we’d stopped off to say goodbye to Elyna and Andre and were waiting for the lift to take us down to the ground floor.

“You’re staying at mine,” I said, fatigue hitting me hard now the adrenaline was wearing off.

“It seemed better to come straight to the hospital from the airport and worry about that later.”

“You’re staying at mine,” I repeated.

“I don’t want to assume anything. I didn’t come here for that.”

I cast him a sidelong glance as the lift arrived, and we stepped into it. “Please don’t make me argue with you. I’ve been awake for the best part of twenty-four hours, so I don’t think I’m capable. And if you think I could manage anything sexual at the moment, then you need to readjust your expectations of what a normal human being is capable of.”

“A normal human being?” Cillian questioned with a slight lift of one eyebrow.

“I.e. not you.”

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