The Saxon Brides: Mistaken Mistress

Roland had been driving? Alyssa started to shiver with reaction. If only he’d been in the passenger seat …

She thought back to when she’d spoken to him. Had he and Amy had a lover’s tiff? Would he have had the accident if he hadn’t been upset?

“I heard them having a fight earlier in the evening. I considered breaking it up, then decided to mind my own business. My mind was on other things.” Joshua glanced at Alyssa, his face blank. “A mistake.”

So she was nothing more than a mistake. Tightness filled Alyssa’s chest.

“Not your fault,” said Heath. “No guy would welcome interference in that situation. You probably had it wrong. Amy and Roland never fight.”

Alyssa opened her mouth. “When I spoke to Roland—”

“You spoke to Roland?” Joshua interrupted Alyssa. “When?”

“Just before I decided to leave.”

“So before I spotted them on the balcony.” There was a peculiar note in Joshua’s voice. “What did you talk to him about?”

She stared at him, her hackles rising at his peremptory tone. She was a mistake, was she? Well, her business with Roland had nothing to do with him. “It wasn’t important.”

Joshua gave her a narrow-eyed glare filled with suspicion that told her he thought it was important. But before he could challenge her, a doctor in a white coat entered the reception, ushering a slender, white-faced young woman ahead of him.

Heath was on his feet. “Amy!”

Heath and Joshua both started forward.

“Are you her family?” asked the doctor.

“Yes,” said Joshua.

“No,” said Heath at that same moment.

There was a confused silence. The doctor looked from one to the other. “I need to see her family. She’ll require observation tonight.”

“We’ll take care of that,” said Joshua.

“I’ll take her home now,” added Heath, frowning as his gaze scanned Amy.

Alyssa flinched as she saw the scraped skin on the other woman’s pale face. Her fine-boned build made her look frail.

“She’s very lucky. Only one bruise from the seat belt. There’s not even a cracked rib or a broken clavicle where the seat belt restrained her. I have a list of symptoms to watch for. We’re particularly worried about concussion … or any form of head trauma. If she displays any of them bring her straight back.”

Amy stood, unmoving.

“Come on,” Joshua said, putting an arm around her, “Heath is taking you home.”

Amy blinked. “Where’s Roland?”

Joshua answered, “In surgery.”

There was a moment’s silence. “Will he be okay?” There was fear in Amy’s voice. “There was so much blood … and he was so quiet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Heath said soothingly. “You know Roland, he always bounces back.”

Amy didn’t look reassured. “When will I be able to see him?”

“We don’t know yet.” Joshua’s frustration added a hard edge to his voice. “But I’ll soon change that.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Amy said with a stubbornness that belied her delicate appearance. “Not until I’ve heard what’s happening with Roland. And Heath won’t want to leave, either.”

“Don’t be a child, Amy,” Heath sounded exasperated. “You heard what the doctor said, you need rest and observation. There’s already one—” He broke off.

“Patient?” Amy’s chin lifted. “Don’t worry about me, I won’t collapse. You can observe me here. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve seen Roland.”

Alyssa suppressed the urge to cheer the other woman on for standing up to the overbearing Saxons. She knew exactly how Amy felt. She, too, wanted to see Roland with a deep, driving ache. She shifted restlessly.

Joshua’s gaze flickered to her before returning to Amy. “Can I get you anything while we wait?” His tone was gentle, not hinting at the frustration he must be feeling at Amy’s intransigence.

Amy shook her head violently. “I’m fine.”

But even Alyssa could see that the other woman was far from fine. How must Roland’s fiancée be feeling, waiting to hear the extent of her beloved’s injuries?

The waiting was bad enough for her. She’d only met Roland once. Very briefly. The man she’d been seeking for years …

A strand of hair fell forward. She stared at it. It was dark red—thankfully not the bright red that topped Roland’s head, more of an auburn shade. But it was something tangible that she shared with him.

There would be more links to discover once they got to know each other. There must be. After all, Roland was her brother and they shared the same DNA.

A stir at the doorway caused Alyssa to lift her head. Kay and Phillip Saxon—Roland’s adoptive parents—had arrived.

“How is he? Can we see him?” Kay’s eyes were frantic, and the powerfully built, gray-haired man beside her looked shattered. Everyone swarmed around them. Alyssa saw her chance.

She stopped a passing nurse. “Roland Saxon … where is he?”

“What’s your relationship to the patient?” The nurse glanced at the clipboard she held. “Are you the fiancée?”

She hesitated, glancing quickly back to where Kay Saxon was bending over Amy, patting her shoulder. It would be better if she didn’t lie outright and simply let the nurse assume she was Roland’s fiancée.

“My name is Alyssa Blake, I’m—”

“Alyssa Blake?” Joshua had come up behind her, unheard. Now his angry gaze impaled her.

Uh-oh.

“Are you the fiancée?” The nurse looked confused.

“No! She’s not my brother’s fiancée,” Joshua hissed from between clenched teeth.

Alyssa’s heart crashed to the floor as she read the disdain and rage in his eyes. Game over. She could kiss her hopes of seeing Roland tonight goodbye.