to Mercier, she loved her work battling terrorism around the world. Nick shuddered to think of the danger she had faced in her job, but he did admire her for channeling all that daredevil energy into something positive. She would not take it well when she learned that outlet was now closed to her.
He knew from experience what it was like to lose the work that defined you. His left hand clenched automatically while his right barely made a fist. Even after surgery and extensive therapy, it had taken him nearly a year to accept the permanent nerve damage and resulting changes in his life.
Maybe helping Cate come to terms with this injury would give new meaning to what he had endured and accomplished. It would be better if she didn’t have to face this catastrophe alone, as he had.
Tess was speaking again, her hand on his arm. “We’ve already told her goodbye. We didn’t mention all that we discussed about you looking after her. She’ll listen to you, Nick. She always did.”
No, she rarely had listened. But Nick nodded anyway.
The Olins were not bad people. They simply didn’t know how to manage anyone who wasn’t in top form physically. When one of the skiers they trained suffered an injury or illness, they passed him or her off to someone who could fix it. If there was no complete comeback in the offing—and sometimes even if there was—the individual was quickly replaced by someone else to train. Right now their hopes were pinned on getting their own son, Anderson, prepared for jumping and freestyling his way through the next Winter Olympics.
No doubt they’d be off to the nearest slopes as soon as they could make arrangements. He heard them mention Austria as they turned to leave.
Nick sat in the waiting room. Mercier and Solange, a physician who worked at the hospital in Georgetown, were still in with Cate.
When he saw them exit, he joined them in the hall. “How is she?” he asked.
Solange replied, “Restless. Attempting to cope, mostly with denial. Dr. Ganz said he would release her today, but we didn’t mention that. I wonder if she should stay another day or so.”
There was no reason to prolong the inevitable. “So, she’s aware of Ganz’s prognosis?” Nick asked. They had operated to relieve the pressure on her brain from the bleeding, but the damage had been done. She had hit a rock. In addition to that, she had been deprived of oxygen a few minutes too long before they could dig her out. It was unlikely that Cate would ever fully overcome the results of her injuries. Her vision was impaired. So were her voluntary reflexes and her equilibrium. Her thought processes had been slow at first, but that had improved fairly rapidly. It was a good sign, but not good enough.
“Yes, she has been told,” Solange said with a grimace.
Mercier put an arm around her shoulders as he met Nick’s gaze. “I want to thank you personally for doing this, Sandro. I imagine Cate won’t be easy to live with these next few months.”
“I know.” Boy, did he know it. Cate had not been easy to be with when she was well and happy.
Life around her had been a roller-coaster ride. Cate embraced risk. A thrill a minute and damn the danger. All that energy. That strength. Those mercurial moods and sheer physicality. One thing he had to admit, he had never felt so alive before or since being with Cate. He had tried to hold on to that zest for life she had revealed in him. Secretly, he had envied her natural exuberance and tried to embrace it.
The trick would be to turn the force and strength of Cate’s energy into something that would get her through the worst of this. And to focus whatever drive he had left on her recovery.
“No one knows your address in Florence but your parents, right?”
“I moved to a larger apartment recently, so even they don’t have my exact address,” Nick assured him.
Mercier nodded, obviously satisfied. “We’ll make certain you aren’t followed when you leave here. Two of our Italian assets are already in Florence checking out your apartment and the surrounding area. They’ll identify themselves when you arrive. Here’s the information on them.” He tucked a card into Nick’s breast pocket.
“That’s assuming I can persuade her to go,” Nick said with a wry smile.
“I just told her she has to,” Mercier declared. “Cate’s practical. She understands that.”
Mercier cleared his throat and glanced at the closed door to Cate’s room. “Well, Good luck, Sandro.”
“Thanks.” Nick sighed. He would need it.
Mercier had told him earlier that he had three months, at which time he needed to know whether Cate could function in a training capacity or at a desk job with the agency. That time frame closely coincided with the date Nick had to report for the fellowship he’d decided to take.
Psychiatry was a far cry from neurosurgery, but it was one of the possibilities open to him now that he lacked the strength and fine motor skills necessary for delicate operations. So they had three short months for Cate to reinvent herself.
He took leave of the Merciers and went back in to speak with Cate. She looked exhausted, barely able to stay awake. “Hey, girl. Did they wear you out?”
“God, this is the longest day ever,” she groaned. “What are my chances of getting out of this place so I can get some rest?”
“Pretty good, actually. You’ll be staying with me for a while,” Nick said, reaching for her hand and clasping it with his left. “Don’t you dare say no. I’m looking forward to making you my famous spaghetti.”
“Oh, please,” she groaned, and made a face. “Not with the olives?”
“Black olives now,” he replied with a grin. “I’ve gone exotic.”
She wriggled around, withdrawing her hand from his and pulling up the sheet to cover her breasts, clearly outlined by the soft cotton print.
Her gaze fastened on the window. “They shouldn’t expect you to babysit me, Nick. I told them that.”
“We are doing this,” he declared. “It’s all settled. No arguments.”
She brushed a hand over her face. “Jack made my alternative pretty clear, but it’s so not fair to you. Gives new meaning to the word imposition.”
“Your mom said that, too, but it’s not imposing. I volunteered for it.” He managed another grin to cover the lie and flashed her the Boy Scout pledge.
“You did no such thing and we both know it.” She sighed. “And what if I don’t choose to be your good deed for the day?”
“I’ll carry you off like the caveman I can be when you strip me down to essentials. You know I’ll do it.”
She laughed. “Caveman stripped down, huh?”
Nick didn’t miss that fleeting expression that said she did recall him stripped. Her awareness of him as a man had always made him feel primal. Again, the old guilt over that surfaced, but he dismissed it. He made up his mind to view her as a grown woman from now on, not as the precocious kid who hit on him regularly and delighted in making him uncomfortable.
She had burst into the bathroom and seen him naked in the shower once. And stared, fascinated, amused and aroused, too, if those little breasts of hers had been any indication. It had not been his fault.
Her gaze shifted from heated to frustrated in the space of a heartbeat. “So when do we blow this joint? I’m sick to death of it.”
Nick released the pent-up breath he’d been holding. “This afternoon looks good for me.”
Her blue eyes flew wide. “Seriously? Today?”
She had been here for three weeks, conscious for two of them, ambulatory for one.
“They’ve done about all they can do here. Now comes the real work.” He shot her a warning look. “You know