A Hero To Hold. Linda Castillo
“I forgot to mention this to you, but that wasn’t an option,” he said easily.
She closed her eyes, but a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “You’re…bossy.”
“It’s an ego thing, actually. I’m a hopeless egomaniac.”
“I’m willing to overlook… You saved…my life.”
A quick jab of alarm stabbed through John when she slurred the words. Reaching into the cabinet overhead, he broke open a radiant heat pack, gave it a quick twist and pressed it to her abdomen. “I don’t know if you realized this, Red, but I’m damn good at what I do.”
“Modest…too. I should have…known.”
Her voice was so low, John had to lean close to hear her.
Buzz grimaced. “Her respiration is slow. She’s stopped shivering. Body temp’s at ninety-four. No pupil dilation yet, but I don’t want to risk cardial arrhythmia. Let’s go to active rewarming. Pete, get some oxygen going, will you?”
Before realizing he was going to touch her, John pressed the backs of his fingers to her cheek to find her flesh cold to the touch. “Stay with me, Red. Come on. Keep your eyes open.”
Pete peeled the wrap from another IV needle while Buzz swabbed the top of her hand with alcohol. She didn’t so much as wince when the needle slipped into her vein. Realizing both Buzz and Pete had the situation under control, John rose. He knew it was stupid, but he didn’t want to leave her.
Shaking off the sentiment, he started for the VHF console to radio the hospital, but the sound of her voice stopped him cold. He turned back to her, found her eyes open and focused on him.
“Thank you…for saving…my life,” she whispered.
Feeling the back of his neck heat, he unfastened the top button of his flight suit. “You just hold up your end of the deal, Red.”
“What’s…my end of the deal?”
“I’ll settle for you staying awake until we get to County. Think you can handle that?”
“You gonna sit there and make cow eyes at her all day, Maitland, or call County with our E.T.A.?”
John frowned at his team leader, but for the second time that day, realized he didn’t have a comeback, witty or otherwise. He was going to hear about this later, he knew. John the Untouchable, going mush-brained over a female patient with a pretty face, tons of red hair—and trouble written all over her shapely body.
Cursing under his breath, he moved over to the VHF radio, snatched up the mike and summoned Lake County Hospital. “This is RMSAR Eagle two niner. We’ve got a Jane Doe en route. Approximately twenty-seven years old. Possible closed head wound. Moderate hypothermia. Respiration slow. Body temp at ninety-four. No sign of cardial arrhythmia. Probable extremity frostbite with tissue damage. Numerous superficial injuries. We’ll need a CT.E.T.A. twelve minutes.”
As dispatch radioed their reply and cleared them for landing, John risked a look at the auburn-haired beauty lying on the litter. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so protective of her. She was going to be all right. Her confusion would ease as soon as they got her body temperature back to normal. Her fingers and toes might be frostbitten, but none of her injuries appeared to be life-threatening. Well, if you didn’t count the bruises on her throat.
He’d get over this protective male nonsense by the time they reached the hospital. He looked at his watch. Eleven minutes and counting.
Yeah, he’d be just fine in about eleven minutes.
Chapter 2
Glorious heat wrapped around her as if she’d been immersed in a warm bath. Relaxation spread through her body, rippling through muscle and tendon and radiating all the way to her bones. The lavender haze surrounding her brain cushioned the pain in her head and eased the throbbing ache in her hands and feet.
She’d never floated before, but this wasn’t at all unpleasant. She was especially enjoying the dream about the man in the orange flight suit. The man with black, short-cropped hair, electric blue eyes and that devil-be-damned grin. The man who’d swooped down out of the sky and rescued her from…
From what?
Alarm quivered through her. The warmth she’d been feeling fled. In its place, something dark and menacing gripped her. A vague sense of terror crept over her like the shadow of some huge predator about to attack. She felt threatened, pursued, but her mind couldn’t seem to pinpoint by what—or whom.
Content to return to the protective warmth of sleep—and her dream about the man with those vivid blue eyes—she sank back into the darkness and let the tide send her adrift.
“Rise and shine, honey. You’ve got a visitor.”
The jazzy female voice turned her peaceful netherworld on its ear. She opened her eyes. Light stabbed into her brain like a hot laser, bringing a wave of pain so powerful, her vision blurred. Withholding a groan, she raised her hand to shield her eyes, only to find her fingers encased in bandages. Blinking in confusion, she lowered her hand and tried to focus on the two blurred figures standing a few feet from her bed.
“Where am I?” Her throat felt as if it had been through a cheese grater. Twice.
“Lake County Hospital,” came the female voice. “You were brought in yesterday morning. How are you feeling?”
She blinked to clear the fog from her brain. A silver-haired woman with kind eyes and chocolate-colored skin came into focus and smiled down at her. “I’m Cora, your nurse. Let me get your pulse while you’re awake.”
A nurse, she thought. A look at the monitor beside her bed confirmed that she was in a hospital. A vague sense of confusion swirled in her head. She was in a hospital. A hospital?
What the hell was she doing in a hospital?
Before she could voice the question, the nurse took her hand and set her finger against her wrist. Only then did she remember her other visitor. She turned her head and squinted at the man standing just inside the door. The man she’d been dreaming about stared back at her, his gaze riveted to hers, his chiseled mouth pulled into a cocky grin.
“Hi, Red. How’s tricks this morning?”
Red? It took her befuddled mind a moment to realize he was talking to her. When she tried to answer, her voice grated like bad brakes. She cleared her throat and tried again. “The only thing doing tricks this morning is my brain.” She didn’t have the energy to mention her stomach was doing tricks, too—every time the smell of hospital bacon and eggs wafted into the room.
“Sorry to hear that. You’re looking good.”
“If how I feel is any indication as to how I look, I’d say you’re probably lying.”
Even with her head pounding and her vision blurred, she couldn’t help but notice the power behind his smile. He’d traded the jumpsuit for a pair of faded jeans that hugged lean hips and muscular thighs. A flannel shirt opened to a black T-shirt with the word Medic emblazoned in white and stretched tightly over a wide, muscled chest. Laced-up hiking boots lent him the appearance of an outdoorsman. But it was his eyes that drew her gaze and held it so that she couldn’t look away. She’d never seen bluer eyes. They were high-altitude blue with a touch of ice, a trace of winter dusk—and a lot of male attitude. His short black hair was spiked military-style, but he didn’t look clean-cut. Not with the five o’clock shadow darkening his jaw or that dangerous grin and sculpted mouth. Even in her dazed state, it took her all of two seconds to realize he was every woman’s fantasy incarnate.
Good grief, he was something to look at. Too bad the best she could hope for was to get through this without throwing up on his shoes.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Headache.” She tried to swallow,