Taming the Playboy. Marie Ferrarella

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СКАЧАТЬ on either cheek. “Lucky thing for me.”

      They walked through a set of swinging doors. As he brought her over to the first available space in the registration area, his cell phone began to ring.

      “She has insurance information about a patient who was just brought in to the E.R.,” he told the young girl behind the desk, then turned to Vienna as the phone rang again. “I’ve got to take this.”

      Vienna nodded. “Of course.”

      Taking the cell out of his jacket pocket as he moved away from the desk, Georges glanced down at the number. And winced inwardly.

      Diana.

      He’d completely forgotten about her. And about his date. He supposed if he hurried, he could still salvage some of the evening.

      Georges was considering the option when he saw two policemen entering the E.R., coming from within the hospital rather than via the back entrance the way they had. By their unhurried demeanor, intuition told him the patrolmen were here to see Vienna. Since he’d seen everything that had gone down, that made him a material witness. Which meant that he was going to have to stick around to give his statement, as well.

      That made his mind up for him.

      Flipping the phone open on the fifth ring, he turned away from the desk. “Diana, hi. I am so sorry. I know I’m late, but I was involved in an accident—”

      “An accident?” the voice on the other end repeated breathlessly. “Are you all right?”

      “Yes, but the police just got here and I’m going to have to give them my statement. I’ve got no idea how long this is going to take.” He caught himself looking over toward Vienna, wondering if she was going to be up to this. “I’m afraid that I’m going to need a rain check.”

      “This is Southern California. It doesn’t rain here this time of year,” Diana reminded him. But she didn’t sound angry, just disappointed.

      “We can do our own rain dance,” he promised, lowering his voice.

      He heard her laugh and felt a sense of satisfaction. She’d forgiven him. “That I’d like to see. All right, call me, lover, whenever you’re free.”

      “Count on it,” he told her. Ending the call, he flipped the phone closed and pocketed it again. Georges turned around just in time to see the two policemen position themselves on both sides of Vienna’s chair. That same protective instinct that had had him throwing his body over hers when the car burst into flames stirred inside his chest.

      He quickly crossed back to her, but he was looking at the patrolmen as he approached. “Can I be of any help, officers?” he asked easily.

      The younger of the two policeman gave him a once-over before speaking. “That all depends. You have any information about this car accident on PCH that was reported?”

      Boy, have I got some information for you, he thought. Out loud, he said, “As a matter of fact, I do. But first, how did you find out about it?” he asked. He’d given Vienna the number to the hospital to summon an ambulance, not 911.

      The younger of the two looked reluctant to divulge any information at all. When he remained silent, his partner said, “Paramedics called it in. Someone named Howard. Told us where to find you.” The last statement was directed to Vienna.

      Howard. He should have known, Georges thought. The EMT wasn’t kidding when he talked about adhering to the rules.

      Georges glanced over toward an alcove. E.R. doctors typically retreated there to write their reports without being disturbed. The area was empty at the moment.

      “Why don’t we move over there, out of the way?” he suggested, indicating the alcove. Not waiting for the policemen to agree, he put his hand beneath Vienna’s elbow and helped her up from the chair.

      “You a doctor?” the other policeman, older than his partner by at least a decade, asked as he followed behind them.

      Taking out the badge that was still in his pocket, Georges hung it about his neck. “Yes.”

      “Lucky for the people involved,” the older patrolman commented. As the tallest, he stood on the outer perimeter of the space, allowing his partner and the other two to assemble within a space that normally held no more than two.

      The patrolmen left half an hour later, satisfied with the report they’d gotten and armed with the make and model, as well as license plate number, of the hit-and-run driver’s vehicle. The younger patrolman had even cracked a slight smile. The older one promised they would be in touch the moment there was something to report.

      Vienna had held up well during the questioning, Georges thought as the two men in blue took their leave, but now she looked drained. Concern returned.

      The moment the policeman walked away from the alcove, Vienna turned toward him and put her hand on his arm, securing his attention. He thought she was going to ask if she could lie down again.

      Instead, she asked, “Could you go see how my grandfather’s doing?”

      “Sure.” Glancing to the side, he saw the administrative assistant they’d initially been talking to standing in the corridor, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Rather than ask the woman if anything was wrong, Georges crossed to her and used his body to block her view of Vienna. And vice versa.

      “Something wrong?” he asked, his voice low enough not to carry back to the alcove just in case the assistant had come to say something about Vienna’s grandfather.

      The assistant looked uncomfortable being pushy, but her job demanded it. “I still need that insurance information. All I’ve got is the guy’s name and half an address. I need more.”

      Relieved that it wasn’t anything more serious, Georges nodded sympathetically. “Sure you do.” But in his opinion, Vienna needed a break. She’d been answering questions steadily for twenty minutes. He’d given his statement to the older of the policemen while she had been grilled by the younger one. “Look, how about I get the insurance information to you in a little while?”

      The assistant hesitated, wavering. “Technically, you’re not supposed to start any work on him until I have something for his record.”

      “You have something,” he told her smoothly, placing his hand on hers and turning her away from the alcove and back toward her own area. “You have my word.” Covertly, he read the name on her tag and added, “Amanda.”

      The personal touch, he’d found time and again, always helped to move things along in the right direction.

      Amanda seemed flustered now, as well as uncertain. “You sure you’ll get that information to me?”

      Georges nodded. “Just as soon as I can, Amanda,” he promised, then winked as if that made it their little secret.

      Amanda was already backing away to return to her desk. “I guess it’s okay.”

      He flashed a grin. “You’re a doll.” The blush that rose to the woman’s cheeks told him that he had sealed the bargain.

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