My Sweet Isabella (The Ambassador Trilogy #3) (4 page)

“Yes, Ambassador. Are you in pain?”

“Can I see my leg? I want to see what the gunshot did to me.” I cringed at the pain in my head. My face was on fire.

“I will call the doctor. Your leg is in a cast right now. You had surgery and the cast is to keep the bone that was broken stable. Is it bothering you?” She tried unsuccessfully to reassure me. I wasn’t buying her excuses. Is it bothering me? What the fuck did she think?

“Can’t you take off the cast? I want to see my leg,” I said, through gritted teeth. The damn antiseptic smell of this hospital was pissing me off along with this nurse’s lack of cooperation. I know I had surgery. I’m not a fucking idiot.

“Let me call the doctor,” she said, backing out of my room looking at me with a sympathetic expression. If I had the strength, I would have locked the door and taken the fucking cast off myself.

I lay there in the darkness of my own hell. The stark green walls, unfamiliar noises of carts moving up and down the hall, and voices of the medical staff made my attitude worse. Footsteps up and down the hall made me jumpy with fear. Someone brought in a tray of food and I felt like throwing the slop against the wall. I glanced out the window into the black of the night. My room must be on one of the higher floors because I could see the tops of nearby buildings. I imagined the hustle and bustle of the city. People going about their lives, whole and put together. Where was Isabella? She needed to be safe. I needed to know where she was. I felt hot. My body hurt, and I was so hot.

I called for the nurse again.

“Yes, Ambassador.” She sounded annoyed with me. I couldn’t fucking care less. I was annoyed with myself.

“Where is Isabella?”

“Who?”

“Isabella.” How many times did I have to say it? My attitude was on high aggressive alert.

“Oh, your girlfriend.” I don’t like this woman. She was rude and put off by my questions.

“Yes, where is she?”

“I believe she went home with your parents to sleep. She said she would be back in the morning.”

I turned away from her and looked out the window.

“Is there anything else?” Yes, there was. Go fuck yourself I wanted to say.

“Yes, where is my phone? I need my phone to call Isabella.”

“I don’t know. I gave your personal belongings to your girlfriend.” That’s just wonderful. How was I supposed to call anyone if I didn’t have my phone with me?

She walked over, took my temperature, and checked the lines going into my body. I still had an IV, and a heart monitor. She put a shot of something into my IV.

“What was that?” Maybe she was a terrorist and poisoned me? I was going mad.

“Something to help you sleep and you have a slight fever. You need to sleep.”

She looked at my tray of food and shook her head.

“You also need to eat, Ambassador. You aren’t going to get well if you don’t. Would you like me to have something brought up from the kitchen?” Was she kidding. This wasn’t food. This shit was disgusting.

I shook my head no. She said nothing more, grabbed my tray, and left. Good riddance. I had enough of her. Whatever she put in my IV took effect. The fight to keep my eyes open was overcome with sleep. My dreams were of Isabella. Always of Isabella.

T
he
next time I opened my eyes, I was more aware of where I was. The sight of the armed guard outside my door would not let me forget someone wanted me dead. I looked over and saw my beautiful girl there sitting beside me. She held my hand as I woke up.

“Good morning.” Her voice echoed the beauty of her smile.

My morning was good now. Staring into her brown eyes soothed my soul and comforted my agitated state. Isabella was the best medicine there was.

“Hello. You look so beautiful and I feel scruffy.” I managed to croak out. The day was overcast and rainy. I heard the rain on the window and saw the big drops trickle down the panes of the glass, but she was my sunshine inside that dreary room.

“I like you scruffy.” She reached over and pushed the hair out of my eyes.

“You slept for a long time. They were worried you were getting an infection, so they pumped you full of antibiotics and more medicine to keep you asleep. I’m so glad you are up now. No signs of an infection either. Are you hungry?”

God, I was hungry for her. I guess that part of me hadn’t gone to shit. I looked at her neck and pictured my tongue licking my way down to her gorgeous cleavage. My mind wanted her, but my body would not be able to cooperate yet. The soreness of my leg reminded me I was still not capable. Would I ever be able to have her like I was used to? Would I ever be fully recovered to do what I needed to her? I was so helpless in that hospital. I wanted out of there.

“I brought your favorite dessert. Your mom said you loved these when you were a little boy.” I sat up and smelled the coffee in the two cups she sat on the tray in front of me. The scent of freshly brewed, strong black coffee, stirred my appetite. I attempted to sit up and winced. Isabella was quick to assist me. There was an odd whooshing feeling in my head. Sharp stabs of pain went through my leg with each move I tried to make.

“What did you bring me?” I asked, plastering a smile on my face to hide my distress.

“Mille-feuille. Your mom and I made these last night. Boy, what a job. I think we were up till two in the morning.” I loved hearing she was cooking with my mother. Cooking was her passion and she cooked so well. I would eat anything she made.

Isabella kept talking. “Everything you eat here is filled with butter and cream. If I don’t get home soon, I’m going to weigh four hundred pounds.” She laughed at me as she fed me pieces of the wonderful cream filled pastry. The memories of home dashed through my head as I savored each bite. The smell of this delicious dessert was part of my pleasant childhood. My mom cooked these for me on special occasions or when I was sick, and the smell of butter and cream would be in the air. That memory took me back to better days of youth and innocence.

“You really made this?” I asked in between small bites. She fed me, and I loved the food and the attention.

“I did. Well, with the help of your mom. I can’t wait to make this at home for my family. They’ll love this dessert.” She was so alive when she talked about her family and cooking. I loved to see the happiness in her face.

“Next we’re making macaroons.” I lifted the cup slowly and carefully sipped my coffee. The cup felt heavy in my hand as I shakily lifted it to my lips. The heat of the beverage going down my insides felt warm and soothing.

A nurse walked in, interrupting my moment with my fiancé.

“Good morning, Ambassador and Isabella.” She seemed surprised to see the food going into my mouth and gave Isabella a wink.

“I see you’re getting him to eat. The nurse last night said not only wouldn’t he eat, but he was asking for you, and was quite grumpy. Mr. Ambassador, I find that hard to believe. You, grumpy?” she smiled at me and I wanted her to leave me alone with Isabella so we could go back to enjoying the dessert she brought me in private.

“Fabrice, be nice to these nurses. They’re making you better so you can come home with me,” Isabella smiled between a soft kiss on my lips.

“The doctor will be in soon. Your chart says you are being discharged today. That’s a good thing. You are going to need to get up and walk to this chair for me with the crutches before I can let you out of here. Whenever you are ready, call me. Enjoy your breakfast first. Is there anything I could get you?”

I shook my head, no.

Thank God I’m getting out of here. No one told me, or maybe they did and I don’t remember.

“I brought you some clothes. Sweats, actually so we can get them over your cast. I remember they told you yesterday about leaving today, but you were so out of it. And yes, we’re going home to the vineyard. Your dad had everything set up for us.”

“The vineyard?”

“Yes, the house you have there. You asked your dad about the security last night. He has everything taken care of. I told you about the security system yesterday. We are going to stay there until you get better and can get back to Washington. The house has been cleaned thoroughly, and the electricity and water have been turned on. We had your things taken out of storage and set up your office for you. You can get back to work in a few days and, I’m staying with you until you kick me out,” she laughed. I tried to take all of this into my foggy brain. Some things I couldn’t remember as a dream or actually happening.

“You did this in three days?” I asked.

“Well, your dad hired people to do this in three days. They worked around the clock. You wouldn’t believe what went on there. The place was filled with contractors, painters, and security. Your home is so beautiful. I may not ever want to leave.” She smiled at me.

I had not been inside the house since my brother stole money from me. The last time I was in there, Celeste was my wife, and we had planned on growing old in that house. We had plans to fill the house with babies and never leave. Now I was going there to convalesce with Isabella.

“There have been so many reporters in front of the hospital these past three days. I had to be taken into a secret back entrance. It’s insane, Fabrice. I don’t know how we’re going to get you out of here. Though, Gustan says he has the security handled.”

I have not watched the news in days. I had no idea what was going on outside those four walls. I didn’t even know what day it was or how long I had actually been there.

“You’re all the talk. Gustan has been interviewed numerous times Witnesses say you and Gustan were heroes. My mom and dad said the news is all over CNN, and Anderson Cooper is here somewhere broadcasting.” I became somber recalling that day again. I was not a hero. Because of me ten people were killed.

“Where is Gustan?” He was supposed to be with her. I gave him orders to be with her. Where the fuck was he?

“He is setting up in the guest house on the vineyard. He’ll be here when we are ready to leave. He said he’s going to stay with us for a while.” I caught her rolling her eyes.

She grew quiet and walked to the window to look out. I knew something was on her mind.

“Fabrice, there was someone else who insisted on seeing you.” She walked back over to me and sat down on the bed again. Her hand came to sit on my chest over my beating heart.

She turned to look at me again. One of the survivors, General Morou, who?

“Who?” I finally asked.

“Your brother.” Ice rushed through my body. Fuck. I knew he would take this opportunity to make an appearance. That bastard.

H
er
eyes searched my face. A sigh escaped her lips. She knew how I felt about Romain. That bastard only came around when he needed something and that something was usually money. He would pick now to weasel his way back into my life. If I was hurt and the story was on the news, he could use that to get to me. I had not spoken to him in years. When he nearly ruined me and embezzled money from my winery, I vowed not to speak to him again. However, Isabella changed my feelings for him when I saw how much she loved her family. I had a change of heart when I talked to her about what he did to me. That was until this.

“Where is he?” I demanded.

“He’s at your parent’s. He arrived there yesterday,” she said, shakily, afraid I would be mad at her for him coming around.