The Wedding Belle (Colorado Billionaires Book 4) Read online

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I need to retrieve my car at some point. I noticed a medical supply store near the hospital. Are there any medical devices you’d like me to pick up for you? A walker maybe? Or crutches?”

  “I have crutches.” Uly tossed his head toward the kitchenette. “And they gave me some other stuff, like that blue thingy there on the table. I don’t know what that’s for. Looks like a blue Christmas stocking, but there’s no Elvis CD in it.”

  Belle raised her brows. “I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I totally get that classic rock reference.”

  “Really?” Uly shrugged, trying to hide how pleased he was. “I’m surprised. Most people our age don’t get it at all. My mother was always crazy for Elvis. Still is. Anyway, I don’t want a walker. That would really make me feel old and feeble.”

  “All right,” said Belle. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll take charge of this.” She folded the soft plastic stocking and tucked it under her arm. “I’d better get going.”

  “I’ll call Wilson.”

  “No, I can walk. I’m going to my room to change, and frankly I could use a run. You should be resting anyway. Here’s my cellphone number.” She handed him her card. “I’ll be back by three. Is that all right with you?”

  “You run?”

  Belle nodded.

  Uly almost smiled. “I ran every day before work. Got up early to run in the cooler morning air.”

  “Then you can understand. In college my friends thought I was a fanatic.”

  Uly’s expression softened as he looked up at her. “No kidding? My buddies in Kuwait said the same about me.”

  Belle was already at the door. “I won’t be gone long. Oh, my running time won’t go on the bill.”

  Uly watched her leave. For the first time in days, he actually took a deep breath. He inhaled very slowly and carefully, but he was able to fill his lungs without having his ribs scream in agony. He sipped his Coke from the can, but he wanted a glass with ice. He started to maneuver the chair, then paused. Belle said she’d be back by three. Fine. He locked the chair wheels, then stood up and hopped to the kitchenette for a glass and some ice. He didn’t really need a nurse. His pain did not stem from his ankle, and although his ribs and back ached, even that discomfort was secondary to the pain caused by the tangle of events in Kuwait. Still, he couldn’t refuse his mother’s nurse without explaining the whole mess to her, and he wasn’t ready to do that. He wasn’t even sure he knew how yet. Not without betraying a friend. He hadn’t even told his father the whole truth. Nope, he would just have to put up with a hovering nurse and let himself be pampered.

  Besides, she was right about the pain meds. Maybe taking them wasn’t a sign of weakness after all. His mind wasn’t nearly as foggy as it had been the first few days after he was injured. Of course, they’d given him much stronger stuff in the hospital, and they’d doped him up good for the flight home. Maybe his brain fog had more to do with that. Who knew?

  Belle would know. He would ask her later. He hopped back to the table, got his phone, and moved to the plush sofa and ottoman. Carefully, he propped his cast on the ottoman, then leaned back to enjoy his Coke. Belle was a runner, just like he was. Too bad he couldn’t join her out there. He was about to go crazy from inactivity. Maybe when the cast came off, they could enjoy a run. If she was still around. He leaned his head back against the cushion and allowed himself a deep breath. His ribs were cracked and sore, but not broken. He’d let his mother believe that because it made it easier for him to excuse himself from family gatherings. He took another breath. Sitting upright in that wheelchair was taxing and made it harder to fill his lungs. Once again, he thought, maybe the pain meds were helping that, too. He certainly felt better.

  Belle. It was all her doing. How could this woman he barely knew make him feel more relaxed?

  That feeling evaporated in an instant when his cell phone rang. He braced himself and answered it. “Hello, Dad. How’s it going?”

  Rudy Garrison’s voice was strained and subdued. “It’s going. You feeling better?”

  “Some.”

  “Still in the wheelchair?”

  Uly was glad his father couldn’t see him while they talked. “Mostly.” The honesty slipped out before he could stop himself. He added, “Mother hired me a nurse. At the moment I’m propped up on the sofa.”

  “Still in the hotel?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.”

  Good? Baffled, Uly said, “I thought you were trying to talk me into staying at the cabin with Thor and Ashley.”

  “Better this way. We can talk plainly.”

  Uly could feel the chill in his father’s voice. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  “I just had a very uncomfortable conversation concerning you and a young woman.”

  Uly closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  Rudy’s impatience clipped his words. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes, Dad, I’m here.”

  “You know I’m trying to close a big business deal here. I’ve just been told you were seen in public with your arm around the daughter of a Kuwaiti business associate.”

  Uly rued the day he ever thought working in Kuwait would be a good idea. “I’m sorry, Dad. I was just trying to—”

  “You know how offensive that kind of behavior can be over here.”

  Uly held his breath. Had his father learned the truth?

  “If she was a Westerner, no one would care. But a Kuwaiti girl? What were you thinking? We could lose billions if this deal goes south.”

  Uly exhaled. It sounded like his secret was still safe. “What did you say to her father?”

  “I told Hussein you were out of the country for good.”

  Uly’s insides froze at the words. He didn’t really care if he ever went back to the Middle East, but if he didn’t, he couldn’t be his father’s right hand man. And the last thing he ever wanted to do was disappoint his father.

  “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “For what?” Rudy was tense. “Did you do something worse?”

  “No, no, of course not. I’m sorry I made things difficult for you.”

  “Well, you’re going to be sorrier.” Rudy’s voice finally softened. “Hussein thinks you should marry the girl to show your respect for the customs of his country.”

  “What?! You can’t be serious!”

  “His daughter, Sara, told him she was in love with her Western boyfriend. But don’t worry. I took care of it.”

  “You did?” Uly was suddenly worried. When his father took care of things, you never knew what the result would be. And when he was in business mode, he was known to do some crazy things to make a deal work. “What did you do, Dad?”

  Rudy snorted into the phone. “I told him nothing serious could have happened because you’re a happily married man.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Belle spent long enough in her hotel room to be totally aware of how low on the totem pole she was financially. Not that it was terrible. In fact, the Cattleman’s had come highly recommended. She was surprised when she arrived to see the construction going on. The high-rise tower was only fifteen floors, but it was taller than anything else in Eagle’s Toe. And they were still working on the meeting rooms on the west end of the parking lot. At least her little room faced away from the heavy machinery. A green belt separated the Cattleman’s from the highway to the north, so she could look out on trees and grass from her third floor window.

  Her room was clean and very tidy. It was as though the cleaning staff spent extra time to make the best of what the room offered. But it wasn’t the Cascade Suite.

  While changing into her running clothes, she marveled at the things that money could buy. Mrs. Garrison hadn’t even blinked an eye when she offered to pay what Belle had earned in the ER. Of course, she was talking about an hourly rate. After all, Ulysses would heal quickly. Young, robust men tended to do that.

  She smiled a
t the thought. Robust, indeed. And tall. Well, her experience as a nurse told her he was tall, even while sitting in the wheelchair. And handsome. She knew he was athletic in the first instant, when she’d seen his arm resting on the car door. And tan. And blond. She had a thing for blond men.

  “Oh, really?” She spoke to her reflection in the mirror. “A thing? You can’t be serious. He’s a billionaire’s son and a cranky pants. That cannot be a good combination.” She turned to check her profile. She looked even slimmer in running shorts and a clinging tee. Her legs were long and lean, and her complexion was nearly olive, a nice fit with her thick dark hair. She tossed her head and her mussed locks fell obediently into place. What did they call that cut again? Her supervisor called it a wedge. Not very girlish, but easy to keep when she was running around the ER, taking care of critically injured patients.

  Not petulant, spoiled brat billionaires.

  But it was a nursing job, something she’d thought she might never have again. So she would take it and keep her mouth shut. Besides, he was the handsomest spoiled brat she’d ever met.

  One more glance at the mirror and she was ready. She pulled her sweatband down on her forehead, tucked her hotel room key and her car keys into her cellphone holster, and headed out.

  It was a beautiful day for a run. The afternoon sun was tempered by a light breeze. The hospital was northwest of the hotel, but not more than a mile away. She increased the distance of her run by first heading south a couple of blocks, then running east for four blocks, then north for a block, and west for four blocks. Her pattern took her through the charming town center and past a number of local businesses she looked forward to visiting. Mina’s Boutique was doing a rousing business, and it appeared that someone was playing live music inside. Further west on the other side of that street, she spotted Thor Security. That had to be Ulysses’ brother Thor. There couldn’t be two Thors in the same town, could there?

  Next she passed an art gallery, and on the corner was The Muffin Man, the delightful little bakery where she’d found her breakfast. She continued around the corner to the north, then east again. She passed a mom-and-pop bookstore, an ice cream shop and a candy store. She ran through the park to the east, where some brilliant town planner had included underpasses for pedestrians so they could safely cross the highway. The cozy neighborhood between the highway and the hospital proved to be larger than she remembered, and by the time she reached the spot where she’d parked her car, she felt very good about her workout.

  And very thirsty. She started the car, powered down the windows for the breeze, and tried to remember where she’d seen that hamburger place when she drove into town. For now, she opened the bottle of water she’d planned to use for Mrs. Garrison’s puppy and guzzled half of it down. It was warm from sitting in the car, but it tasted fine.

  She was about to pull out onto the street when her phone buzzed. She debated whether to ignore it or not. Then she remember Uly. He might need her. She checked her phone.

  The text from her former supervisor destroyed the well-being she felt from her run.

  “Patient family will sue. Brace yourself. Get lawyer.”

  A wave of apprehension swept through her. She felt shattered by the message. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Even her supervisor said so. She’d gone by the book, just like they taught her in nursing school. Why on Earth would she need a lawyer?

  The very idea left her shaking behind the steering wheel. She put the car back in park and sat with her face in her hands. The message was terse and devoid of emotion. But email and texting often devolved into that sort of thing. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that her supervisor was playing CYA. Did that mean, if pressed, she wouldn’t back Belle up on this?

  And how could she get a lawyer? She was barely employed.

  She read the message again. Cold and distant. She leaned her head back against the seat and tried to think.

  But the only thought that came was that she would be late getting back to Uly if she didn’t move.

  She knew in her heart that she had followed all the rules. Surely any legal action would only bring that to light. But the message filled her with self-doubt.

  “Oh, great,” she muttered to herself. “Here we go again. I just got over thinking I was the Queen of ER Mistakes, and now this?”

  She let her gaze travel around her little car. This is my life, she thought. Everything I own is right here or in my luggage. A car and some clothes.

  She turned her rear view mirror so she could look herself in the eye. “Hurray,” she said dismally, “we’re having a pity party. That’s what you tell your patients, Belle. ‘I didn’t know we were having a pity party. Where’s my invitation?’ I’m surprised no one hauled off and decked you, girl.” She put the mirror back where it belonged. “Oh, something to live for. I haven’t used that line on Ulysses yet.” She checked the time on her phone. She was definitely going to be later than three. She would run up to the suite and check on him before she took her shower, just in case.

  “After all, at the moment I am still a nurse. Me and Florence Nightingale, making a difference in the lives of patients everywhere. Sarcasm are us.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The wail of an ambulance kept her at the curb a few seconds longer.

  That sound and what it represented filled her with resolve. “Yes, I am still a nurse, and a damn good one. And I’m employed as a nurse, too. If I was meant to leave nursing, I would have gotten that stupid fundraiser assistant job. So what if my first nursing job didn’t pan out? I’ll just keep moving forward. That’s the only way to go.”

  With that, she checked for traffic and pulled away from the curb. By the time she got to the Cattleman’s, her despair had turned to anger. She was mad at the doctor who blamed his mistake on her. She was mad at the system that encouraged patients to sue. She was just plain mad. And from there, it was a short leap to determination. Her knuckles whitened with the force of her grip on the steering wheel. She would do whatever she had to do to protect herself and stay in her chosen career. If she needed a lawyer, then she’d get one. If it took a ton of money, then she’d find it. Somewhere. Somehow.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Uly threw up his hands in disgust and nearly sent the phone sailing across the room. “Dad! Why would you tell him I’m married? What good does that do? When he finds out I’m not married, he’ll brand you a liar.”

  “No, he won’t, because you are going to make sure he doesn’t find out. As for why, that’s complex. He was upset because you broke a cultural norm here, but once I told him you were married, he backed off a bit. He knows I’d never tolerate that kind of hanky-panky from my own son.”

  Uly groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Nope.”

  “I’ll never understand that culture.” Uly bit his lip, but it was too late to pull the words back.

  After a few seconds of silence, Rudy said, “I know, son. That’s why I sent you home.”

  “Because I’m a liability to your profit margin?”

  “Now don’t think like that. I wanted you to get medical care where you’re comfortable. But I know you’ve been struggling with the culture over here. I thought you’d be happy to be back in the USA.” Rudy’s voice was taking on a cantankerous edge.

  Uly hastened to calm him down. “I am, Dad. Thank you for that. And I’m healing fast.”

  “Oh, really? When I talked to your mother, she said you were still in the wheelchair.”

  Uly grimaced. Another slip. He just wasn’t used to fibbing to his father. Fooling his mother had almost been a sport growing up. But he’d never deceived Rudy. That’s why his secret was so burdensome. Part of him wanted to spill the beans and tell his father all about it. But he couldn’t. Not yet. The truth would destroy any chance of completing the business deal. Uly was sure of that. And not because of his father’s associate. He rubbed his forehead. “Well, yes, I’m still in the wheelchair, but I can feel the ankle improving. A
nd this afternoon I actually took a deep breath, so the ribs are getting better, too.”

  “That’s good news,” said Rudy.

  Uly closed his eyes and sagged against the sofa. Disaster averted.

  Rudy continued, “Just a heads up. Hussein made a point of telling me he has connections in the States. Said something about looking in on you. So start looking domestic.”

  “The last time I got domestic, all hell broke loose.” Uly’s thoughts flashed back to his spur-of-the-moment Reno marriage and the subsequent end of same.

  “Well, hell, son, you don’t have to fall in love. Just pay someone to play a role.”

  Uly shook his head. He could hear a note of desperation in his father’s voice. Rudy was a good man and a great father, but he was a driven businessman, and the deal he was putting together in Kuwait was worth billions. The thought of that falling through was affecting his thinking.

  “Pay someone? Where do I find a pay scale for that kind of work, Dad? And for how long?”

  “A few months. You know how things work over here. I can’t rush this thing. I have to work within the culture. Maybe a year.”

  “A year!?”

  “Now don’t panic. Consider it your contribution to the family business. Call my personal lawyer, Kent Shelton. He’ll fix you up with some kind of legal document, keep you from getting taken for a ride by some golddigger. I’ve transferred some funds to your stateside account. A couple million. That should let you live high on the hog while you’re doing your old man a favor. Call me when you can tell me her name. I have to meet with Sara’s father again in a couple of days. Gotta go.”

  Uly sat and stared at his cell phone until a distant ping told him the elevator doors had opened.

  Belle!

  “Crap,” said Uly. He stood hastily and hopped to the wheelchair. Belle was knocking before he could get settled.