Page 30 of A Taste like Sin
changed.
His prognosis is grim. They were able to destroy the worst of the clots in his brain, but each
professional consulted on his case seems unsure of the long-term damage. If he wakes up at all, he
might not be the same man.
It’s so selfish to feel the way I do. Annoyed. As though he got the last laugh. I’ll never learn the truth
about him—or about Simon. But even as the thought unfurls, I cringe from it and reach for his hand,
gripping it tight.
“I’m fine,” I say, shrugging Diane off. “He could wake up any minute. I need to be here—”
“Juliana.” She doesn’t move. “You need to shower at least. And eat. And sleep. Think of what he
would want? It certainly wouldn’t be for you to jeopardize your own health, worrying about him.
Besides”—she clears her throat and darts her gaze toward the door—“your friend may want some
rest as well.”
My friend?
Damien.
A familiar shadow is hovering near the doorway—the same spot I suspect he’s periodically occupied
during the past forty-eight hours. Not constantly, of course—but long enough.
I can’t tell if Diane knows his identity or just doesn’t care. Her pained expression is fixated solely on
me.
“Please, darling.” She cups my cheek against her palm, her blue eyes watering, her blond hair damp.
She must have left and showered while I was sleeping, only to return wearing a fresh sweater and
slacks. “I’ll take over from here.”
“Okay…” I’ve barely voiced the surrender when she takes my hand and helps me stand. Then she all
but drags me to the door.
“I’ll call you with any updates. I think you should take the day for yourself. Rest.”
Rest. But how?
“No.” I start to turn back. “I need to be here. I need to—”
“I believe you have been exiled.” A firm hand captures mine before I can take another step, and its
owner tugs me farther into the hall.
“But—”
“Dulce niña.” Lips tinged with the hint of cologne brush my earlobe. “I’ll bring you back later. But I
