Chapter 492
[ 511 words ]
Chapter 492:
“My doctor is a sadist,” the General declared, settling into the cushions with a grateful sigh. “He’s got me on this decaffeinated coffee. It tastes like mud. I’m convinced it’s a plot by the Russians.”
Caroline laughed, a warm, genuine sound that seemed to fill the cavernous room. “I’ll talk to him. Maybe we can compromise on half-caff.”
In the middle of the comfortable silence that followed, a harsh, electronic buzzing shattered the peace. Caroline’s phone, which she’d placed on the mahogany coffee table, was vibrating violently, its screen casting a frantic blue light into the dim room.
The General scowled. “Who in God’s name has the audacity to call at this hour?” he muttered.
Caroline picked up the phone. The name “Jarrod” glowed on the screen. A jolt went through her, a mixture of warmth and anxiety. She glanced at the General, her expression apologetic. “I should take this.”
He gave a curt nod, but she saw his posture shift. He picked up a newspaper from the side table and held it up, pretending to be engrossed in an article, but she could see he was listening intently.
She answered the call. “Hello?”
“You’re there.” Jarrod’s voice came through the line, low and rough with exhaustion, but underscored with a profound relief. “You’re at the estate.”
“I’m here,” she confirmed softly, her eyes flickering toward the General. The old man’s ears seemed to twitch above the top of his newspaper. “I’m with Grandpa.”
𝖱o𝗆𝖺𝗇с𝖾 𝗇𝘰v𝘦l𝘴 o𝗇 𝗴аln𝘰𝘃e𝗅𝗌.𝘤𝗈𝗆
The General’s newspaper lowered an inch.
“Good,” Jarrod said. “Is he behaving?”
Before she could answer, the General cleared his throat, a loud, theatrical rumble. “Put that thing on speaker, girl,” he commanded. “I want a word with my grandson.”
A smile touched Caroline’s lips. She pressed the speakerphone icon and set the phone back on the table between them.
The General leaned forward, abandoning all pretense of reading. “Jarrod! Is that you, you irresponsible whelp?” he boomed. “What kind of husband lets his wife, a slip of a girl, run off to an active earthquake zone? Have you lost your mind?”
There was a beat of silence from the phone. Caroline held her breath, expecting Jarrod’s usual cold, defensive anger.
Instead, his voice came back, perfectly calm and measured. “Sir. Caroline is a highly trained medical professional. She has a duty, and she has the right to perform it. I will not stand in the way of that.”
Caroline’s heart did a slow, painful flip in her chest. He was defending her. Not just her actions, but her identity, her profession, to the one man whose opinion he supposedly didn’t care about but secretly craved approval from. It was the most romantic thing he had ever said.
“Hmph,” the General grunted, clearly taken aback and slightly deflated. “Duty is one thing. Common sense is another.”
“Speaking of which,” Jarrod’s voice continued, the tone shifting from defensive to commanding, “I’m ordering you to ensure she has a hot meal and is in bed within the hour. No arguments.”
Caroline felt a blush creep up her neck. “I’m not a child,” she protested quietly to the phone. “I don’t need to be managed.”
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