The hospital threw Caine out. They had a strict visiting hour policy and although he’d somehow managed to arrange it with them and the police to keep the two big, burly security guys stationed outside my door, the hospital wouldn’t budge on allowing him to stay. The fact that we’d broken up had temporarily fled my mind and I didn’t want him to leave. When I woke up my grandfather was gone and the police were waiting to talk to me. Caine sat by my side the whole time as I recounted what I could remember. None of it was very useful since I hadn’t seen the guy’s face.

“He smelled a little,” I recalled. “Like stale sweat.”

The police left with grim faces and Caine’s hand was gripping mine so hard I had to ask him to ease up on me. I knew my attack had shaken him up, and I had to admit that took a little of the sting out of his rejection. He didn’t love me, but he at least cared about me, and that was enough right then. Because right then I was scared, and he was the only thing that made me feel safe.

I didn’t want him to leave.

I could tell he didn’t want to leave me.

So, even though I didn’t think I owed it to him, I gave him a reassuring smile and told him I’d be fine.

“I’m tired anyway. I’ll just be sleeping. And you do have Stallone and Schwarzenegger stationed outside my door.”

“I’ll be back in the morning.” He reluctantly shrugged on his jacket and leaned down as if to press a kiss to my forehead. He hesitated and instead of brushing his mouth across my temple, he bent lower and brushed his lips across mine. “Get some rest.”

Dazed, I nodded and watched him leave, all the while wondering what the hell that had been about.

The next morning I woke up before visiting hours in pain. Angela, my nurse, gave me Percocet and told me to stop wriggling around so much if I could help it. I couldn’t help it. I’d had approximately three hours of sleep. I’d woken up at every little noise and then had almost suffocated as I subconsciously held my breath while I attempted to hear over the sound of blood rushing through my ears.

I’d remind myself I had my own commandos outside and then I’d doze off again, only to be woken up by the sharp, burning pain in my belly.

Restless sleep did not go hand in hand with a knife wound.

Caine showed up at morning visiting hours and he came brandishing pastries and coffee. He snuck them to me, and I swore if he had wanted to, I’d have married him right there and then.

“Thank you.” I threw him a soft smile in gratitude.

“You sleep okay?”

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.”

We were both lying. He looked exhausted and I could only imagine I looked like shit.

“I have a few things I need to do, but Effie said she’s dropping by this afternoon. I called Rachel and let her know what happened. She said she’d be here soon. I’ll drop by again this evening.”

“Thank you,” I repeated. “You really don’t have to take care of me, you know.”

He looked instantly annoyed.

“Not that I’m not grateful,” I hurried to assure him.

“There’s a possibility that the person who did this did it to get to me.” He stood up abruptly and started shrugging into his jacket. “I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

All I’d been thinking about was who the possible culprit was. I knew my father was capable of some pretty shitty things, and that mixed with how I’d treated him for the last seven years, plus not knowing what my mother’s death might have done to him … but it was ridiculous. I shook the thought off right away, disturbed that I’d even considered it. It plagued me that I’d considered it. So I desperately tried to think of who else it might have been. And although I hated to think that Caine was right, something occurred to me. “What about that woman you were talking to on Saturday night? She sounded like she was threatening you.”

Caine frowned. “I’m almost positive it wasn’t her, but I’m looking into it.”

“We should tell the police about it.”

“No,” he snapped.

I blanched, feeling that ugly suspicion that I’d felt on Saturday night coil in my stomach. “Why not?”

“Just … trust me. Please.” He stared me down until I nodded my uncertain agreement. “I’m doing everything in my power to find out what was behind your attack, whether it was random or has something to do with me. I won’t stop until I uncover the truth. You can believe that.”

“So you’re taking care of me out of guilt?”

“I’m taking care of you because it’s the right thing to do.”

I narrowed my gaze on him. He’d gone all “preknifed Alexa” on me. “Wow, that makes me feel so special.”

Caine sighed. “The smart-ass is back,” he muttered. “Someone’s feeling better.”

“Yes, some mystery assailant did a drive-by slicing on my belly. I’m positively perky.”

He cut me a dark look.

I huffed, “You’re allowed to be concerned about me, you know. I’m not going to take your concern as an avowal of love.”

We glared at each other for a few seconds and then Caine gradually softened. “Sorry. I’m being an ass. Of course I’m concerned. I’m taking care of you because I’m concerned, no other reason.”

Grateful at his admission, I reassured him, even though it hurt my heart to do so. “As your friend, and nothing more, I appreciate it and understand where it’s coming from. I’m not expecting anything to change because I got stabbed in the gut.”

“Would you stop saying that?” He gritted his teeth. “I keep seeing it every time you say it.”

“Sorry.”

He sighed again, but his lips had curled up at the corners, so I knew he wasn’t irritated anymore. “I’ll be back tonight.”

As soon as he walked out the door, I slumped against my pillows and felt tears burn my eyes. I hated to admit it to myself, but the truth was, after his behavior yesterday, I’d let that hope sneak back in again. I’d hoped that his tenderness, his affection, his irate reaction to what had been done to me meant that he finally realized how he felt about me.

God, I was such an idiot.

“When Caine called I was so freaking worried.” Rachel slumped on my bed beside me. “And then I stepped out of my door and saw this.” She slapped the tabloid newspaper on my knee.

A photograph of Caine and me occupied the lower half of the front page with the headline CARRAWAY’S PA ATTACKED OUTSIDE CARRAWAY FINANCIAL HOLDINGS.

“Oh my God.”

“Oh, it gets worse.”

I pulled the paper up toward me and began to read out loud, “ ‘Yesterday afternoon, busy workers in the financial district were horrified during lunchtime rush hour to witness Caine Carraway’s PA, Alexa Holland, loaded into an ambulance. Although there was no actual witness to the event itself, it has since been reported that Miss Holland, who is pictured above with Mr. Carraway at the Delaneys’ Alzheimer’s Benefit on Saturday evening, was brutally stabbed outside Two International Place. Miss Holland is said to be in recovery while the police search for the attacker.

“ ‘It is not clear whether Miss Holland was the victim of a targeted attack, or was just simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, but what is clear is that Mr. Carraway, of Carraway Financial Holdings, is pulling out all the stops to bring justice to his employee. An insider reports that he has hired private security to watch over Miss Holland while she’s in the hospital, and that he is working diligently with the police in tracking the culprit. Questions are being asked not only about the nature of the relationship between the beautiful PA and the wealthy CEO, but also of the mysterious secrecy revolving around Miss Holland’s family. Our investigator reports that Miss Holland is in fact the daughter of Alistair Holl …’ ” I trailed off, sucking in a breath.

“Go on,” Rachel urged.

“ ‘… the daughter of Alistair Holland, the son of Diamond heir and entrepreneur Edward Holland, who famously and mysteriously disinherited his firstborn almost twenty years ago. Alistair Holland divorced his wife, Patricia Estelle Holland, leaving behind her and their son, Matthew, while he went on to settle down in Connecticut, where he married Julie Brown, the mother of his daughter, Alexa Holland. Edward Holland and his family have not publicly acknowledged Miss Holland despite the fact that she’s been a resident of Boston for the last seven years. Edward Holland was not available to comment.’ ”

I looked up at Rachel, who was staring at me with something akin to hurt on her face. “Rach,” I whispered.

“Look. I don’t want to take away from the fact that you’ve been stabbed and I’m really scared and upset for you right now, but I can’t believe you didn’t tell me who your family is. I mean I knew your dad was a bastard, but I didn’t know he was also the son of one of Boston’s oldest and wealthiest families.”

“It wasn’t …” I worried my lip, wondering if my grandfather had gotten to my grandmother with the news before the tabloids. I remembered what he’d said to Caine before I drifted off, and his fierce vow went a little way toward soothing the hurt he’d caused me. Not all. I still didn’t know how to forgive him, but it meant something to me that he was finally looking out for me and not his family name. I’d been waiting on him appearing with my grandmother when Rachel showed up. Did this front-page news mean he wouldn’t show? “That side of my family … There are a lot of bitter feelings there, and the fact is that my dad had an affair with my mother and kept her on the side for years. When my grandfather disinherited him, his wife divorced him and he came crawling to us. I never knew any of that until seven years ago.”

“Wait …” Rachel frowned. “Why did your grandfather disinherit him?”

I sucked in a breath at the question, thinking of its ugly answer. “That’s not my story to tell, Rach.”

Thankfully she let it go. “So … you’re saying that you didn’t tell any of them that you’ve been in Boston this whole time.”

“My grandpa knows,” I admitted sheepishly. “We spend time together in secret.”

“Wow.” She threw me a sympathetic look. “Your life is really complicated.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

She grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I want you to know I’m here for you. I get why you couldn’t talk about any of this, but now you can. No one should have to deal with this shit alone. I love you, Lex. I had a heart attack when Caine called to tell me what had happened to you. You’re my family. Okay?”

My nose stung with tears. This time good tears. “Thanks, Rach. Love you too.”

Rachel stuck around for a little longer, distracting me from the current scary status of my life by gossiping about her neighbors and her neighbors’ kids. Although it was a little unfair of her to complain about anyone else’s terrifying children, considering Maisy, I let her babble on because in her own way Rachel was almost soothing. She brought normality to me in that hospital room, and I needed that so much right then.

My friend was barely out the door when my grandfather showed up. Alone.

I looked beyond him expectantly, but the door to my room closed behind him.

Grandpa strode to my side, grabbed my hand, and squeezed it. “I told Adele last night, sweetheart, but she’s … She needs time. And with the news hitting the papers …”

I tried to pull my hand free. “I get it.”

Grandpa held on. “What you don’t get is that I love you and I will always love you. I made a mistake, Alexa, a terrible mistake that I have regretted ever since that night. I tried in my own way to see it right, but it can never be made right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you and that you feel betrayed. But more than anything I’m sorry this horrible act of mine ever made you question my love for you.”

Tears burned in my eyes. “I just feel really alone.”

“Never think that. It took me too long, but I’m here now. You’re not alone.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It will take time. I can wait.”

And he started waiting right then, as I sat in silence and began the process of trying to forgive him.

A while later, just as Grandpa and I had begun to talk a little, Angela came in looking flustered. She scowled back at Don, one of my security guys, as the door closed behind her. “They really are obnoxious,” she told me. “I’ve got a short, frantic little guy outside claiming to be a friend of yours. Says his name is Benito.”

Holy hell.

I wondered if getting stabbed warranted forgiveness.

“Show him in.”

Angela pushed open my hospital door. “He’s allowed in, jackass,” she snapped at Don as she passed him.

I chuckled and then immediately winced at the pain from my wound. I guessed laughter was out for a while, then.

Benito marched into the room and slammed to a stop at the sight of me. It was like watching him walk into a brick wall. He paled as his big round eyes took in the scene before him. “Oh, dear God.” He hurried to my side and snatched up my hand. “Alexa … I had to come as soon as I heard.”

I gave him a somewhat confused smile. “It’s nice to see you, Benito.” What are you doing here?

He looked at my grandfather, his eyebrows raised. I so did not want to get into that with Benito.

Grandpa cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll let you have privacy with your friend.” He bent down and pressed a sweet kiss to my temple. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

I nodded carefully and watched him leave. I had to admit I felt a certain relief in having decided to try to mend the breach between us.

Benito squeezed my hand. “Edward Holland is your grandfather?”

“We’re not discussing that. At all,” I warned him.

He let go of my hand to pull the chair up beside the bed, the feet screeching across the floor in a way that didn’t even seem to compute with him. I gritted my teeth against the noise and waited for him to explain his presence.

“I feel just awful,” he launched in, gesticulating wildly. “You wouldn’t be in this hospital bed if I hadn’t fired you.”

I snorted. “And you drew this conclusion … how?”

“I was working on a shoot in New York yesterday. You would have been with me, nowhere near International Place.”

Ah. I got it now. He was under the impression that this was not a targeted attack. I, however, was still convinced I might have been assaulted because of Caine’s mysterious secrets. “We don’t know that,” I assured him. “We’re not sure what’s going on here.”

“All I know is that I’m a shit for firing you. I’ve been racked with guilt all morning. I came to apologize.”

The truth was I didn’t regret Benito firing me. What he did actually changed my life. Okay, so right now that wasn’t for the better, but the months before the attack had been the most amazing of my life. And although things were shitty now, at least I was reevaluating my future. If Benito hadn’t fired me I would still be working alongside him, existing on the perimeter of someone else’s career.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Let me,” he snapped impatiently.

“Fine,” I sighed. “Apology accepted.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You could be a little more gracious about it.”

I raised an eyebrow in answer.

“Right.” He winced, his eyes dropping to my stomach. “How is it?” His hands fluttered over the area as if he was afraid any minute now I was about to go all Warrant Officer Ripley on him.

“Gestating.”

“What?” He squinted in confusion.

“Nothing,” I murmured.

“I’ve missed your weird sense of humor, Alexa.” He patted my hand condescendingly.

Frankly I didn’t think I had a weird sense of humor—it was just that Benito didn’t have any kind of sense of humor.

“There was another reason I came to see you.”

“Oh?” Please do not offer me my job back. It would be very difficult to say no, and I knew the best thing for me was to start afresh.

“Antoine Faucheux called me a few days ago.”

Interest piqued, I urged him to go on.

“Apparently his sister, Renée, is looking for a new events planner in her events management company. In Paris. It’s a very successful company—it deals in society weddings, launch parties … Antoine is going to suggest you to his sister, and he called me to ask me to forgive you long enough to write you a glowing reference.”

I stared dumbly at him, processing.

A job. In Paris. In events management?

Was this real?

Benito grimaced. “You’re not saying anything.”

“I’m trying to get my head around it. You just told me someone might offer me my dream job the day after some psycho stuck a knife in me. It’s all a little overwhelming.”

“Of course, dear.” He patted my hand again, this time staring at me as if he were worried I was about to start shouting for Nurse Ratched.

I’d forgotten how trying Benito could be. “Are you going to give me a reference?”

“What kind of monster would I be if I didn’t?”

“That’s a yes, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“Wow.” This changed everything. I could start over in Paris. I wouldn’t have to put up with my grandmother’s more than likely rejection and the rest of the Hollands’ reaction to my presence in their city. I’d be doing something I’d always wanted to do. I’d be living in Paris! I could escape whatever arcane hell was going on with this attacker business.

But the most alluring part of taking a job in Paris?

I wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally bumping into Caine anymore. I could take my broken heart to another continent. Somehow that was reassuring. Maybe in Paris I’d have a chance to actually move on.

Whereas if I was stuck in Boston, everything would remind me of him.

“What about this?” I pointed to my belly. “Doc says recovery time varies from four to six weeks.”

“Well, I’m sure you can work something out with Antoine’s sister.”

I smiled with sincerity. “Benito, thank you.”

He grinned. “I’m forgiven?”

I laughed. “You’re forgiven.”