“Of course. We’re running a little short-staffed today. She might not be moved to a room for an hour or so.”

Ever since Emma had regained consciousness, she’d experienced a strange sort of desire for action, an inexplicable restlessness. In fact, when she’d first come to in the ambulance, the first thing she did was swing her legs off the stretcher and start to get up.

“Whoa, whoa, where are you going?” the stunned EMT had asked her, urging her to lie down again.

Emma hadn’t been able to reply logically. She only experienced a deep, profound need to be somewhere. That sense of an inner push—or an outer pull—continued. She’d almost screamed in frustration when the doctor told her a few minutes ago they’d be keeping her overnight for observation. Her silent reminders to herself that she was being ridiculous, that she had nowhere to go with such a sense of urgency, were only minimally calming to her.

Was she disoriented? Had she hit her head harder than she thought?

She heard a murmuring as Colin and Amanda conferred, but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

A second later, Amanda was coming around the curtain. She and Colin had been there earlier, but had vacated the space when the doctor came to examine her. She gave Emma a bright smile.

“Where’d Colin go?” Emma asked when she absorbed that Amanda was alone.

“He, uh . . . went out to the waiting room,” Amanda said, setting her purse down on a chair and coming up next to the triage bed where Emma stiffly reclined. Energy surged through her. The last thing she felt like doing was lying around. Suspicion flickered through her at Amanda’s forced neutral tone and the way she avoided Emma’s eyes.

“Why’d he go out there?” Emma asked. “Amanda?” Her sister met her stare hesitantly. “What’s up? Why are you acting so weird?”

Amanda sighed and glanced reluctantly at the closed curtain and then back at Emma.

“He went out to the waiting room because Vanni is out there.”

“What?” Emma said incredulously, sitting up straighter on the bed, her skin tingling, her muscles shouting at her to move.

“I’m sorry . . . I didn’t want to bother you with it, but—”

“That’s all right, just tell me why he’s here,” Emma interrupted hastily.

Amanda explained about running into him as she left the apartment earlier. “I assumed he knew about you somehow, because of the timing and well . . . I was in shock myself. I told him what hospital you were at before I realized he wasn’t there because he knew about your accident,” Amanda admitted ruefully. “He arrived here just after Colin and me, but of course, they wouldn’t let him back. A couple security guards actually had to restrain him, and they threatened to call the police before Colin and I intervened,” Amanda said worriedly, her blue eyes huge. “Emma . . . he’s a wreck.”

“A wreck?” Emma asked in alarm. She swung off the sheet that covered her lower body and looked around the tiny space frantically. “What did they do with my clothes?” she demanded.

“Emma, lie back down! I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you should have told me. Is Colin—”

“Yes,” Amanda said, her hand on Emma’s medical-gown-covered shoulder, urging her back onto the bed. “He went out to tell him you’ll be fine!” Amanda insisted.

Emma grabbed her sister’s wrist, forcing her to meet her stare.

“Amanda, listen to me. Go and get him,” she directed. “Go and get him and bring him back here.”

“But—”

“There’s no ‘but’ about it. You don’t know everything about Vanni. He’s lost a lot of people in his life. This must be hell for him. He needs to see for himself that I’m fine.”

“But you’re the one I’m concerned about,” Amanda argued.

“If you are, then you’ll go get him,” Emma said firmly. “Because I need to see that he’s all right, too.”

“But what about—”

“Damn,” Emma said, flipping back the sheet again in preparation to go herself.

“All right, I’ll get him!”

“Hurry,” Emma directed succinctly.

Amanda blanched. She looked highly uncertain as she grabbed her purse and left the curtained-off space, and Emma knew why. She was concerned because Emma had said she would never see Vanni again. She and Emma had both agreed it was for the best, given the situation. But Emma didn’t care about that at the moment. She didn’t care about caution, or Vera Shaw’s threats, or her vulnerable heart.

She only wanted one thing with every fiber of her being: to see Vanni’s face again.

It felt like an eternity, waiting, but Emma knew it was probably only a matter of seconds. She held her breath at the sound of rapid, firm footsteps approaching on the tile floor. She jumped slightly when the curtain whipped back.

He looked far too tall and large for the cramped little space when the curtain fell back into place behind him. She recognized the soft gray T-shirt he wore with faded jeans; she’d seen him wear it during their golden, heaven-sent days at La Mer. He looked both wonderfully familiar to her and fantastically new, like she was witnessing a miracle firsthand. Her gaze traveled over his tense, bold features with a frantic hunger. Something wild leapt into his sea-colored eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m fine—” she sputtered, but she was cut off, because suddenly he was stalking toward the bed, a blazing look in his eyes, and he was bending down and squeezing her against him.

“Don’t leave me, Emma,” he said roughly, his face pressed against her neck. Her face scrunched tight with swelling emotion. She dug her fingers into his thick hair and fisted it.

“No. I won’t,” she vowed shakily. She’d seen the truth there, bold and harsh and big as day on his anguished face just now. This was hurting him even more than she’d imagined the truth about Cristina would. She’d have to find a way to break the news to him. Better her than Vera Shaw. At least when he knew, she’d be there with him to help shield him from the pain.

She wasn’t sure how long they clung together like that in their desperate embrace. He did pull back after a stretched moment, however, his gaze searching her face. He palmed the back of her head gently, a tear spilling onto her cheek at the familiar, prizing gesture.

“They said you’re going to be okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “They’re keeping me overnight, but it’s just for routine observation. I wish I could go now . . .” She swallowed thickly as she stared into his rigid, handsome face. She hadn’t understood until now that he’d been the target of her restless anguish since awakening from the wreck. She touched his whiskered jaw, and then smoothed back his longish, finger-strewn bangs from where they’d fallen on his forehead.

“I’m so glad to see you,” she whispered.

He shook his head, his gaze narrowing on her face. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” He leaned down and covered her mouth with his. Her heart seemed to seize and then renew its beating, stronger and faster than before. His taste and the sensation of him filled her like an elixir, sublime and wonderful because she’d thought she’d never experience it again. Warmth suffused her. When he broke their kiss, she held him against her, forehead to forehead.

“I’m so sorry,” she said in a pressured whisper.

“No. I am. I know Vera said something to you to upset you. I’m sorry I was so dense when you talked about how much she hated you. I know she can be difficult at times, but I usually just disregard her fussiness and territoriality. I’ve grown used to it, even if I don’t love it. I’ve built up a layer of protection against her, I guess. I had no idea she’d purposefully try to hurt you or sabotage something because I cared. If something worse had happened to you this morning,” he said, his voice cracking slightly, his gaze glacial, “I would have held her personally responsible.”