Название: Hot Docs On Call: Tinseltown Cinderella
Автор: Lynne Marshall
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
isbn: 9781474097666
isbn:
“Where am I?” Her voice.
Had he slept a few minutes?
He forced open his eyes and faced Carey as she sat up in the bed, propped by several pillows. Her hair fell in a tangle of waves over her shoulders. Those dark green eyes flashed at him. She’d already figured out how to use the hand-held bed adjuster. “Where am I?” she asked more forcefully.
He’d told her earlier, but she’d suffered a head trauma, her brain was all jumbled up inside. Because of the concussion she might forget things for a long time to come. She deserved the facts.
“You’re in the hospital in Hollywood, California. You got off a cross-country bus the other night. Do you remember where you came from?”
“I don’t want anyone contacting my family.”
He rang for the nurse. “We won’t contact anyone unless you tell us to.”
“I’m from Montclare, Illinois. It’s on the outskirts of Chicago.”
“Okay. Are you married?”
She shook her head, then looked at him tentatively. “I’m pregnant.” Her eyes captured his and he could tell she remembered they’d gotten emotional together earlier when she’d woken up before. “And my baby’s okay.” She gave a gentle smile and odd protective sensations rippled over him. Those green eyes and the dark auburn hair. Wow. Her blackened eye may have been healing, but even with the shiner she was breathtaking. In his opinion anyway.
“Yes. Everything is okay in that department. How far along are you? Do you know?”
“Three months.”
“And you came here on the bus for...?”
She hesitated. “Not for. To get away.” She lifted her arms, covered in fading bruises. “I needed to get away.”
“I understand.” The uncompromising need to protect her welled up full force again. “Are you in trouble?”
She shook her head, then looked like it hurt to do so and immediately stopped.
The nurse came in, and asked Joe to leave so she could assess her patient and attend to her personal needs. He headed toward the door.
“Wait!” she said.
He turned.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Joseph Matthews. I’m the paramedic who brought you here.”
“Thank you, Joseph. I owe you my life. And my baby’s,” she said from behind the privacy curtain.
He stared at his work boots, an uncertain smile creasing his lips. She certainly didn’t owe him her life, but he was awfully glad to have been on scene the night she’d needed him.
The police were notified, and Joe didn’t want to stick around where he had no business, though in his heart he felt he deserved to know the whole story, so he went back to work. Around ten p.m., nearing the end of his shift, James approached. “Did you know she’s a nurse?”
“I didn’t. Interesting.”
“She won’t tell us how she got all banged up, but the fact she doesn’t want us to contact the father of the baby explains that, doesn’t it.”
“Sadly, true.”
“So, since she’s recovering, if all goes well after tonight, I’m going to have to discharge her.”
Startled by the news, Joe wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him before. Of course she couldn’t live here at the clinic. Her identity had been stolen along with her purse and any money she may have had in it. She was pregnant and alone in a strange city, and he couldn’t very well let her become homeless, too. Hell, tomorrow was Sunday! “I’ve got an extra room. I could put her up until she gets back on her feet.”
Joe almost did a second take, hearing himself make the offer, but when he thought more about it, he’d meant it. Every word. Even hoped she’d take him up on it.
“That’s great,” James said. “Though she may feel more comfortable staying with one of our nurses.”
“True. Dumb idea, I guess.”
“Not dumb. Pretty damn noble if you ask me. I’ll vouch for you being a gentleman.” James cast him a knowing smile and walked away.
Joe fought the urge to rush to Carey’s room. She’d been through a lot today, waking up after a three-day sleep and all, and probably had a lot of thinking and sorting out to do. The social worker would be pestering her about her lost identification and credit cards and helping straighten out that mess. The poor woman’s already bruised brain was probably spinning.
He needed to give her space, not make her worry he was some kind of weird stalker or something. But he wanted to tell her good night so he hiked over to the DOU and room Seventeen A, knocked on the wall outside the door, and when she told him to come in, he poked his head around the corner.
“Just wanted to say good night.”
She seemed much less tense now and her smile came easily. She was so pretty, the smile nearly stopped him in his tracks. “Good night. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me.”
“Glad to be of service, Carey.”
“They’re going to let me go tomorrow.”
“Do you have a place to stay?”
“Not yet. Social Services is looking into something.”
He walked closer to her bed and sat on the edge of his favorite chair. “I...uh...I have a two-bedroom house in West Hollywood. It’s on a cul-de-sac, and it’s really safe. Uh, the thing is, if you don’t have any place to go, you can use my spare room. It’s even got a private bathroom.”
“You’ve done so much for me already. I couldn’t—”
“Just until you get back on your feet. Uh, you know. If you want. That is.” Why did he sound like a stammering, yammering teenager asking a girl on a date? That wasn’t what he’d had in mind. He just wanted to help her. That was all.
She was the vision of a woman trying to make up her mind. Judging him on whether she could trust him or not, and from her recent experience Joe could understand why she might doubt herself. “Um, Dr. Rothsberg will vouch for me.”
“I’ll vouch for who?” James walked in on their awkward moment.
“I was just inviting Carey to stay in my spare room, if she needs a place to stay for a while.”
James nailed Carey with his stare. “He’s a good man. You can trust him.” Then he turned and faced Joe and looked questioning. “I think.”
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