34. Jasmine

34

JASMINE

A s Jasmine walked into the penthouse, holding a stack of laundry under her arm, her back was aching from the long hours spent sitting by the prince's bedside, and her shoulders felt tight even though she'd tried to remember to stretch from time to time.

They should invest in better chairs for the patients' loved ones sitting at their bedside.

Not that she was the prince's loved one, but he didn't have anyone else to watch over him, and Jasmine had nominated herself. Well, nominating implied a voluntary decision when it was more like a compulsion. She didn't have a choice in the matter. There was no other way to explain why she slept on the floor near his hospital bed, only a sleeping bag cushioning the hard surface, and why she showered in the small, utilitarian en suite bathroom. She had barely left his side in the days since his arrival, her heart aching with the need to be near him like they were connected by some invisible thread that had tied them together across time and space.

Somehow, everything she had ever strived for and worked so hard to achieve seemed less important than nursing this stranger, this alien from a different planet, back to health.

Thankfully, the medical staff didn't notice the sleeping bag she'd hidden under the hospital bed and that she didn't spend every moment sitting in the damn chair but stretched out on the floor for a quick nap here and there. Or maybe they had noticed and were pretending that they didn't because no one had the heart to kick her out.

"Hello, stranger." Margo's voice startled her.

Jasmine gasped, her hand flying to her chest, and when she scanned the room to find where the voice was coming from, she found Margo sprawled out on the living room couch with her phone clutched in her hand.

"You startled me. I thought you were still training in the Perfect Match center."

"It's Sunday." Margo sat up. "Frankie went to visit her family, the guys are working in the basement, and Gabi and Ella are in the village. I'm all alone up here."

Calling the sprawling underground labyrinth under the high-rise a basement was the epitome of an understatement, but Jasmine didn't correct Margo. "I'll just drop this in the washing machine and come sit with you for a bit."

She wanted to return to the prince as soon as possible, but Margo looked like she could use a friend.

"Do you want coffee?" Margo pushed to her feet.

"Sure. I planned to drop my dirty stuff in the machine and carry a fresh stack back to the clinic, but I'm a little hungry. Are there any leftovers in the fridge?"

The truth was that she was famished, and she would have raided the fridge on her way out anyway. The café in the lobby was closed on Sundays, so she'd gotten coffee in the kitchen and instant oatmeal she'd found in one of the cabinets. The medical staff must have assumed that she ate at the penthouse, which she did when she could find leftovers.

"I'll put together a plate for you," Margo said.

"Thank you."

After loading the washing machine, Jasmine went to the bedroom and collected a fresh change of clothes and a few towels.

When she returned to the kitchen, two fresh cups of coffee were on the counter and a large plate of assorted fruits and cheeses.

Not the meal she'd had in mind, but it would do.

"That looks awesome." She snatched a strawberry and popped it into her mouth.

"I'm glad you like it. That's all I could find." Margo lifted her coffee cup and took a sip. "How are the twins doing?"

Jasmine shrugged, the familiar words rolling off her tongue with practiced ease. "Still unconscious, but they look better with every passing day. It's amazing how quickly you people recover. It would have taken a human several weeks or even months to make the progress these two have made in three days."

"They are half gods." Margo smiled tightly. "I'm just an immortal, but I get what you are saying."

Sensing that something was weighing on her friend's mind, Jasmine frowned. "What's going on, Margo? Trouble with the family? Or are you feeling lonely because Negal is spending his days in the basement?"

Margo chuckled. "Both. But it's mainly about my brother's wedding." She lifted her phone and showed Margo the screen. "Lynda changed her mind about the bridesmaids' dresses and sent me a link to choose a new one. She always makes life as difficult as possible for everyone around her."

"I don't get it." Jasmine put a piece of cheese on a cracker. "I thought that the wedding was postponed because your family was whisked away to safety to hide them from the cartel, but then no one came looking for them, and they were allowed to go home. Everything was already arranged, including the bridesmaids' dresses."

Margo sighed. "It's never as simple as that with Lynda. Besides, it was postponed again."

"Why?"

"Because of me. I told them that I was still in the witness protection program because of the trip to Tibet, and Rob refused to get married without me."

"Good for him," Jasmine said. "Do you need help choosing your new bridesmaid dress?"

Margo shook her head. "I don't care about the damn dress. I care about Rob's future." She turned a pair of pleading eyes on Jasmine. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Of course. Anything."

"What I need is for you to do your card magic to tell me if Rob is going to be happy with Lynda."

Jasmine stifled a wince. "Are you sure you want me to do this? I know the cards have proved themselves regarding the prince, but they might not always be right."

It was also possible to misinterpret their meaning, and Jasmine was far from the best at reading them.

"I know." Margo clutched her cup of coffee as if it was a lifeline. "But I'm desperate. I have to know."

"I'll get the cards." Jasmine pushed to her feet.

Margo put a hand on her arm. "Finish your coffee and your meal first. The tarot can wait a few more minutes."