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"Please, just a few weeks ago, she had to spend a night in the hospital because she was tired and stressed," Duncan spokesoftly, and I didn't think he was pretending to be worried; hewasworried.
They turned to Thierry then. Before they could say a word, he held out his hand, which had a card in it. "You want to talk to me; you go through myavocat."
Thierry had a lawyer on call?
"Come on, Lisange. There's been a shootingandyou're involved," the shorter, portly cop said.
The police knew Thierry? Well, of course they did. He used to work for my father. I knew he wasn't a choir boy.
"Myavocatcan help you set up a time to speak with me."
I noticed his gun was missing, as was Duncan's. They'd put them away. When? Probably when Thierry disappeared for a minute. I understood they had to hide them. This was France, not America. You couldn't just carry a weapon on you. There were a whole hell of a lot of restrictions in my country. I always wondered if Thierry had his fingers in some shady pies; now Iknew. Well, I couldn't say I was surprised.
"Thierry, may I request you to drive Elsa and me to the hospital so we can get her checked out," Duncan spoke in English now, and the two cops grimaced.
Duncan pulled out his wallet and handed the tall policeman a card. "Actually, please callmylawyer if you want to speak with Elsa."
They paled when they saw the card.
"What?" I whispered.
"The Archer family's lawyer in Paris has a reputation for being a real barracuda." He nuzzled his mouth close to my ear.
The cops made some phone calls and told us to not touch anything as crime scene people would come to make sure to get slugs and fingerprints and all of that.
"Can we go to the hospital now?" I murmured.
"Are you not okay?" Panic laced Duncan's voice.
"I'm fine. I smell so probably need to change, and Mamman's Chanel coat is never going to be the same again." It had Dom's blood on it; I could smell the iron. "But I want to check on Dom. He saved my life, Duncan."
Thierry left to take care ofsomething, which I suspected was to start tracking down Pascal Fournier. So, Duncan and I went to the hospital without him. We found that Dom had been rushed into surgery. We sat down in the brightly lit waiting room, exhausted. Duncan stayed close, his arm around me, offering silent support.
"We should get you home so you can rest." Duncan put a hand on my stomach. "Do you need anything?"
"I want to know how Dom is doing."
We'd been having this discussion since he drove us to the hospital.
"How about when Dean gets here, he takes you to my apartment. You can rest there. We have a shit ton of security. I can stay here and—"
"Non."
"I'm getting pretty sick and tired of you saying no to everything, Elsa. Hell, you almost got taken by that bastard today. So, stop saying—"
"Non?" I asked cheekily.
"Elsa," he said softly, his voice shaky. "I need you to know something. Seeing you in danger like that scared the life out of me—first when you fainted and now this. I can't…you understand? If something happens to you, baby, I… can't."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him, seeing the raw honesty and emotion in his gaze. "Duncan," I whispered, my voice trembling.
"I love you, goddamn it,and there isno fucking way I can go on if something happens to you, to our baby."
I leaned into him as he pulled me into a gentle hug. Despite everything that had happened, a calmness washed over me.
I trusted Duncan, I realized. Today, I instinctively and immediately knew that everything would be alright once I heard his voice. He'd straighten it all out because that's what he did.
Now, no doubt that he messed up with me.Buthe wasn't one mistake—he was more than that. In the past weeks, he'd proven again and again how he wasmineeven though I'd kept him at an arm's distance.
