The Temptation of Dr. Colton. Karen Whiddon
a doctor. I have to believe you wouldn’t take advantage of me.”
“I won’t.” He took a deep breath, well aware that as far as the rest of the world was concerned, he walked a fine line. Since he took care to be meticulous, he’d be exceedingly careful now. “Are you about ready, MW?”
One arched brow rose. “MW?”
“Mystery Woman. I refuse to call you Jane Doe.”
Regarding him with a bemused expression, she finally nodded. “All right. And what should I call you?”
He almost said Dr. Colton, but at the last minute changed his mind. “Eric. My name is Eric.”
“The nurse said Dr. Patel had to sign my discharge papers. Even though you asked the nurse to send her, I don’t have any idea how long that will take.”
Eric knew, depending on how busy the attending physician might be, that a discharge could take hours. But not with him expediting things. “Let me check on those. Will you wait right here until I get back?”
A brief flash of humor sparked in her eyes. With a graceful motion, she shoved the wisps of her unruly hair that had escaped her ponytail away from her face. “Sure. After all, where else am I going to go?”
The nurse had disappeared. Whether to find Dr. Patel or attend to other patients, he didn’t know. After locating the discharge papers at the nurse’s station, he hunted down Dr. Patel, and got them signed. He sidestepped his colleague’s questions, keeping his answers purposely vague.
Snagging one of the available wheelchairs on the way, he went to collect his new houseguest. When he got to her room, he was surprised to find her standing, clutching the bed frame.
“Hospital protocol,” he said, gesturing at the wheelchair. “Let me help you get seated.”
“I can do it.” Waving away his offer, and moving slowly, she made it to the end of the bed and then took the necessary steps to reach the wheelchair. Even in this, her movements were graceful.
Feeling inordinately proud, he grinned at her. “Are you ready?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she smiled back. “Let’s rock and roll.”
Bemused and glad she couldn’t see his face, he began pushing the chair. When they reached the lobby, he hailed a cab, bundled her up into it and gave the cabbie his address.
She glanced around her in curiosity as they headed toward his town house.
Once there, he had MW sling her arm around his shoulders and supported her on the short sidewalk to his town house, despite her protests that she could walk just fine. He liked the way she felt, all lush and curvy, not a bony toothpick like some of the women he’d dated in the past.
“Hungover or injured?” a feminine voice drawled. He jumped. His sister, Greta. He’d managed to completely forget their lunch date.
“Injured,” MW replied, her mild tone at odds with the arch look she gave him. “Though I kept insisting I can do this, Eric here refuses to believe me. I’m sorry, Mrs....?”
“Miss,” Greta corrected with an inquisitive smile. “I’m Greta. Eric’s sister.”
His heart sank. Realizing Greta would spin an entirely innocent occurrence into a fantastical story to entertain his family and anyone else who would listen, he hurriedly recounted the events of the night before.
“So I have no memory,” MW put in when he’d finished. “And your brother was kind enough to offer me a place to stay.”
Despite her casual attitude, Greta appeared as if she’d been punched in the stomach. He shot her a look, telling her not to say out loud whatever she might be considering saying.
“Oh,” Greta managed weakly. “That’s nice of him.” The look she gave him back told him he had some explaining to do later.
He didn’t care. He’d done what he felt had been right, and that would be the end of it.
“What’s your name?” Greta asked.
“Right now, we’re calling her MW,” Eric put in smoothly. “For Mystery Woman.”
If anything, Greta’s hazel eyes got rounder. “I see.”
“About lunch...” he began.
“I can run out and get a few sub sandwiches,” Greta managed. “If you don’t want to go out. I can bring them back here.”
Glancing at MW, he nodded. “That would be helpful.”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to disrupt your plans,” MW said. “I’m pretty tired anyway, so if you could direct me to your guest room, I think I’d like to take a nap.”
Ignoring his sister’s eagle-eyed stare, he took MW’s arm and led her down the hallway to his spare room, which thankfully his cleaning service kept ready for guests.
Despite everything that had happened to her, and his insistent hold on her arm, she carried herself confidently. He noted the top of her head came up just underneath his chin.
Perfect.
“Here you go,” he told her, swallowing hard as he released her. “We’re going to need to get you some toiletries and clothes, too.”
Consternation turned her eyes the color of storm clouds as she blinked up at him. Helpless to move, he again noticed the sensual rosebud shape of her mouth and the luxurious sweep of her dark brown eyelashes.
“I have no money, no way to pay you back. At least, not right now.”
Clothes. They’d been talking about clothing.
“Then it’s a good thing I have plenty.” Unable to resist the urge to touch her again, he squeezed her shoulder. “Right now I don’t want you to worry about anything but getting better.”
“Thank you, then.” And she moved away. Her yawn as she settled onto the bed told him she’d be out in minutes.
He almost asked her if she wanted to take off the ill-fitting and ugly clothes, but the realization that she’d be naked if she did stopped him in his tracks. Once summoned, the image wouldn’t leave him. He had to throttle the rush of desire racing through him.
Crud.
Without saying another word, he left.
After he closed the guest room door, he went into his living room, where Greta still waited for him, fairly bouncing up and down in her agitation. Today she wore her wavy dark hair in a ponytail and her usual jeans and cowboy boots, even though the temperature was pushing a hundred.
“What the heck are you doing?” she whispered loudly. “If she’s your patient, aren’t you going to get into all kinds of legal trouble for doing this?”
“She’s not my patient,” he told her back. “And I’m just helping out a fellow human being.”
“A fellow...” She gave him a sidelong look. “I think I get it. This is an extension of your job to you, isn’t it?”
Since his entire family all knew Eric lived and breathed for his work, he nodded. “Yes. I was there, I saw the car hit her. I can’t just turn her out on the street with no memory and let her fend for herself. I’ve asked Ryan to personally work on finding out what we can about her.”
Greta’s skeptical expression told him she still wasn’t entirely buying into his story. “Okay. Couldn’t you have turned her over to adult Social Services or something?”
“Not without knowing her identity.”
“What if she’s a criminal? She could be a bank robber or a murderess, for all you know.”
He laughed. “When you hear the sound of hooves, don’t look for zebras. It’s usually a herd of horses.”