Aitana gently pushed Joaquin’s bouquet back and said apologetically, “Senior, I can’t accept your flowers. And please don’t buy them for me anymore.”
Alex stood quietly beside Aitana, his presence calm but steady. He didn’t say a word, simply watching Joaquin.
Joaquin, however, disliked seeing Alex stand so close to her. The two of them together gave off the impression of a perfect match, which unsettled him.
“Aitana, who is this?” he asked. By now he no longer thought Alex was just a patient.
He hadn’t noticed whether they’d entered together or separately, but Alex now stood beside her like a silent protector, watching him warily.
Aitana tilted her head toward Alex and said, “He was a patient of mine. Mr. York, please have a seat while I handle something personal. We’ll go to Wordisk Garden later so I can show you the décor of my place.”
“Okay,” Alex replied softly. He walked over to greet Uncle Pollock and his wife with an easy smile.
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