Page 56 of Trapped with the Undercover Prince

Even the hospital, one of those newer buildings, had been designed to complement the surrounding structures rather than clash with them. There were shops, restaurants, and bakeries everywhere she looked.

Zar pulled into a parking garage that looked like it was on road level but quickly descended into the underground. He parked in with the rest of the cars and helped her out.

As soon as she was out of the car, he took her hand in his again.

She bit her lip. Holding his hand was becoming a habit, and while that helped with their charade of a relationship, it was becoming harder and harder to remember that it was a charade. Zar wasn’t just handsome and a prince. He was honest, kind, and noble in the purest sense. She was afraid that by the time she left, he was going to mean more to her than was possible.

He squeezed her hand and leaned close. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“The look on your face just now—something is making you sad.”

Crap. “I was thinking about the people we helped yesterday, and the ones we couldn’t help. I hope you catch whoever did it soon, Zar. Before they can kill anyone else or before you get hurt.”

“My people are working on it, and accompanying you to the hospital gives me the opportunity to check in with them and ask questions of my own without alerting anyone.”

Of course, he would have more than one reason to be here with her. “Right, okay, that’s good.”

“Anna,” he said, his tone warm. “One step at a time, okay?”

“I understand. It’s just so frustrating to know there are people out there who are trying to hurt you, who have hurt you, and so far, they’ve gotten away with it.”

“They won’t get away with it forever.” His voice was harder now. Certain.

They reached a doorway, entered the hospital, and went up a flight of stairs. Once they were on the main floor, Zar took her to a suite of offices.

As soon as the reception staff saw him, they were greeted like royalty.

Pfft, he is royalty.

Several people in suits, administrators of some kind, surrounded them, bowing and smiling and speaking rapid-fire French.

Someone stepped close and kissed her on both cheeks. After that, everyone seemed to swoop in and kiss her. Surprised, she tried to back up, but someone was behind her and she couldn’t escape—like on the train before their car had slid to a stop.

The room spun, and her breathing sounded too loud and too fast in her ears. She reached out, trying to find something to hang onto, and found Zar’s hand.

He said something sharp in French, the crowd around her eased, and he pulled her away from them. The next thing she knew, she was seated in a cushioned chair with her head between her knees.

Holy smokes, she’d nearly passed out. She’d never passed out before.

Zar was crouched in front of her on one knee, one hand holding one of hers, the other on her shoulder. Keeping her in the chair?

“This is so embarrassing,” she muttered.

“What?”

“I’m a surgeon. I don’t faint.”

“You have been through two traumatic events very close together. Your body is allowed to have a reaction to all of that.”

“You didn’t almost pass out from a bunch of people saying hello.”

“When it happens to me, I hope you’ll hold my hand, too.”

She made eye contact with him. Saw the respect on his face. Respect, admiration, and regard for her. There was no pity, only patience.

“Thanks, I...” Could she say what she wanted to say in a place this public? “I’m glad you’re here.” Good grief, that was lame. “You would have made a great doctor.” That was even worse.

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