Free Sweet Deception by Tara Bond Page A

arched an eyebrow. “Shoving a tube down patients’ throats? Yes, nowadays they have less barbaric ways of dealing with alcohol poisoning—putting an IV in and rehydrating patients usually works. But in your case they made an exception. Because you’d consumed so much alcoholthey were worried you might die.”
    His voice was deceptively light. I dropped my eyes to where my hands were resting on the white sheets of the bed. It was bad enough that I’d managed to drink so much that I’d landed myself in hospital, but now I had to face the fact that I was worse than the normal idiots they got in here. To say I felt ashamed was an understatement.
    I would have asked him some basic questions—like Where am I? and What am I doing here? But I’d kind of figured the answers out for myself: I’d collapsed; an ambulance had been called; my stomach had been pumped; and at some point Richard had arrived and had me spirited to a private room in whatever hospital I was in. That was all fairly self-evident. However, there was one thing I couldn’t figure out.
    â€œWhat’re you doing here?”
    â€œLindsay called. She panicked after you collapsed. She didn’t want to worry your parents, so I guess I was the next in line.” He must have seen the question in my eyes because he shook his head. “And no, I haven’t told your mum and dad what’s been going on. The doctors were pretty certain you’d be fine, so I decided not to worry them. Enough of us were already having a sleepless night over you.”
    I didn’t know why he’d bothered coming if he was just going to try to make me feel bad. I was already feeling sore and embarrassed. Unfortunately, my voice wasn’t up to any arguments right now.
    â€œHome?” I said instead, hoping he’d pick up on my pidgin English.
    â€œTomorrow. And I’ll be taking you back to my place for the night.”
    The horror I felt must have been obvious from my face, because he held up his hand. “No arguments. The doctors think it would be best for you to have someone watch over you for the first twenty-four hours after you’re discharged, and there’s no one else who can do it apart from me.”
    â€œLindsay?” There was a tinge of desperation in my voice. The thought of Richard and I being confined in one place for any length of time wasn’t a good one. I wasn’t sure I could take his judgemental attitude for that long.
    â€œLindsay doesn’t have time to play nursemaid. She has an interview tomorrow.”
    This was news to me. I wondered why she hadn’t mentioned it, but Richard was already speaking before I could process the thought. “I, meanwhile, have arranged to work from home. So, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” He folded his arms, in a gesture that said, Deal with it .
    I felt suitably contrite. He’d obviously rearranged his schedule—his very busy schedule—to accommodate me. I hadn’t meant for my stupid behaviour to cause everyone else such problems. I managed a sheepish smile. “Thank you.”
    He gave a brisk nod of acknowledgement. “Good. That’s more like it.”
    Right then, a pretty young nurse bustled in. “Ah, you’re awake at last,” she said brightly, in a pretty Irish lilt. She walked over to deal with my beeping IV. “That’s good. Now, let me get this sorted out for you . . .”
    As she began to examine the IV pump, Richard turned to me. “Look, I’m going to push off now, if that’s all right with you? I just wanted to be here when you woke up. But now I need to get some rest.” He inclined his head back to the easy chair. “That contraption wasn’t meant for sleeping.”
    He hesitated for just a moment, and then dropped a quick kiss on my forehead.
    â€œI’ll be back tomorrow,” he told me. Then, after thanking the nurse, he