“I thought they said she was fine. She’s too quiet.”

The doctor shrugged. “Ms. Donovan seemed perfectly fine until you showed up, Mr. Andrews.”

“Oh. Yes, well, that’s generally how it works with us.” Jason rubbed his hands together. “So what do I have to do to spring her out of here?”

“If you agree to have Taylor released in your care, you’ll need to watch her closely for the next twenty-four hours,” the doctor said. “Most important, when she’s sleeping, you need to wake her every four hours and ask her a few questions to make sure she’s conscious.”

The doctor peered over. “As for you, Taylor, I want you to promise to take it easy these next couple of days. If you do, you should be okay to go back to work on Monday.”

But Taylor could not stop staring at Jason. “How did you know?”

“How did I know what?”

“That I was in the hospital.”

“I called your office looking for you. Linda told me you were here.”

The doctor interrupted, turning their attention back to the important matters at hand. “So, as I said, Mr. Andrews, you’ll need to ask Taylor a few quick questions when you wake her up. Something like this.” He turned to her to demonstrate. “Do you remember my name?”

Taylor gave the doctor a look. Of course she remembered his name, she was fine. Didn’t he remember the wiggling fingers and toes? “Dr. Singer,” she told him.

“What did you have for breakfast this morning?”

“I don’t eat breakfast. Wait—does a grande skim latte with two Splendas count?”

The doctor gave her a look. No, indeed it did not.

“What’s your mother’s maiden name?” he asked.

“Jennings.”

Bored with the interrogation—this was really basic stuff—Taylor turned her attention back to Jason. “What were you calling me about?”

Distracted, Jason had to think. “I had a question about the courtroom scene we were filming.”

“You were filming?” she asked incredulously. “And you just . . . left? To come here? For me?”

At this, Jason turned back to the doctor and spoke to him in a low whisper. “Are you sure she’s really okay? Because it’s been at least three minutes and I haven’t been insulted yet.”

But for once, Taylor was not in a teasing mood. She put her hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m being serious, Jason. You left in the middle of filming to come here?”

Jason looked down at her. Suddenly, he, too, turned serious.

“They said you were in the hospital, Taylor. Of course I left.”

It was the matter-of-fact way he said it. And the way he looked at her right then. Taylor suddenly felt as though she was back in the PT Cruiser, spinning and spinning and spinning.

Jason Andrews.

Her knight in shining armor.

Well, if she believed in such things.

She looked down at the floor so that Jason couldn’t see her smile. A moment later, she felt his hand on her chin, bringing her gaze up to his. His eyes searched hers worriedly.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Taylor? Say something . . . normal.” He gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, being careful to avoid the bump on her head.

Taylor stared up into Jason’s amazing blue eyes. He really was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.

With great effort, she pulled herself out of the dreamy depths of the Sexiest Eyes Alive and somehow managed a casual smile. She knew she should at least thank him for coming for her.

But then she noticed something she had somehow missed earlier. She peered more closely at Jason. “Wait a second—are you wearing makeup?”

Oh yes, there it was—a little trace of powder dusted across his face. And was that a smudge of eyeliner along his bottom lid . . . ?

This was too precious.

Taylor raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Gee, Jason, it’s just a hospital—you really didn’t need to get all gussied up.”

And with that, Jason smiled. He turned to the doctor, finally satisfied.

“Okay. She’s fine.”

Twenty-five

AT JASON’S INSISTENCE, being like-minded with the doctor in thinking that a grande skim latte definitely did not constitute an adequate breakfast, he and Taylor stopped for lunch after leaving the hospital. Given her weakened condition, Taylor decided it was only fair that she got to pick the restaurant. Back when she was younger, any time one of the Donovan children got hurt (which with three boys and Taylor was quite often), her father treated the whole family to Mc-Donald’s cheeseburgers, fries, and chocolate shakes. Feeling nostalgic, she told Jason she wanted to honor that tradition.

To which he promptly responded that Aston Martins did not do McDonald’s drive-thrus.

But then he went anyway.

They brought the food back to Taylor’s apartment so she could pack an overnight bag. While they were eating their cheeseburgers in her kitchen, Taylor jokingly pretended to pass out cold on the table while handing her pickle over to Jason.

Oh boy, did that little ruse cause quite a bit of panic and mayhem.

Come on, she laughingly apologized to Jason, she’d only been kidding around. She stood out on her driveway, where he had locked himself in his car refusing to speak to her until she swore to never do that again.

But a little while later, as the adrenaline rush of the car accident wore off, Taylor began to feel in earnest the effects of the concussion. She was already yawning as they pulled into Jason’s driveway. As the metal security gates parted grandly before them, she stared in awe at the house that would be her home for the next twenty-four hours. She suddenly felt one of her “realizations” coming on, so she made a quick joke inquiring about the whereabouts of the servants. When Jason replied that he had given them the weekend off, Taylor realized that she had no clue whether he was being sarcastic or serious. What she did realize, however, was that she and Jason would be completely alone for the next twenty-four hours.