Emergency Contact. Susan Peterson

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      Ryan swallowed hard. This was going nowhere. Maybe his ex-boss’s assessment of his clinical skills were right. Perhaps he had lost his touch. “I noticed you have a small cut on your forehead. Did that happen last night?”

      Tess stared at him, her emerald-green eyes seeming to cut right through him. “Yes. I tripped and fell in the dark. It’s nothing. A small scratch.”

      “I’d like to examine it, if you’ll let me.”

      She sighed, a tiny puff of air passing between lush, slightly parted lips. Ryan waited. The corner clock clicked off the minutes as she considered his offer.

      Finally she nodded, her gaze still wary. “I guess it would be all right.”

      Ryan stood up and moved over next to her. Tess tilted her head back, giving him access to her forehead. He brushed aside her silky bangs, his fingers sliding over her soft skin. Air hissed between her teeth as he touched the edges of the cut.

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

      “It—it’s all right. Stings a bit, but you have a very gentle touch.”

      Ryan leaned across her. “I’m going to turn on the light so I can see it better.”

      She slid an arm out from beneath the blanket and touched him, her fingers resting lightly on his forearm. A shiver shot up his arm and Ryan paused, glancing down into the clear green of her eyes.

      “Please, the light hurts my eyes,” she said.

      Ryan laid his hand over hers. “It’s important that I check your pupils, Tess. The fall might have given you a concussion.”

      She nodded her understanding and slipped her hand from beneath his. Ryan tried to ignore the twinge of regret when she pulled away.

      He reached into his pocket and pulled out a penlight. A quick check of both pupils told him that in spite of the light hurting, her pupil reaction was fine.

      Perhaps a mild concussion. It didn’t exactly explain her extreme mental confusion, unless she’d been in an accident and couldn’t remember the details.

      He crouched down in front of her. “Do you know what today’s date is?”

      “Of course.”

      He waited.

      She tilted her head to the side. “I’m sorry. Have you forgotten the date?”

      Ryan bit back a grin. “No, Tess. I’m checking to see if you remember. You might have a head injury. I’m checking your memory.”

      The frown popped up between her brows again. “But I just told you that I know the date. Don’t you believe me?”

      Ryan paused. He didn’t want to anger her or shut her down so that she refused to cooperate. He tried a lighter approach. “Any chance you’d humor me and just tell me the date?”

      “July tenth.”

      “Good. Now, can you tell me the capital of Rhode Island?”

      A slight twinkle of humor entered those exquisite eyes. “You’re not going to start asking math questions next, are you? Because I’m really lousy at math.”

      Whatever had happened to her, Tess had managed to maintain her sense of humor. He held up a hand in mock Scout’s honor. “I promise, no math questions.”

      From across the room, Betty interrupted. “Isn’t that enough questions, Doc?”

      Ryan glanced over one shoulder. “It’s okay, Betty. I’m not hurting her.”

      “I know that. But you’re scaring her. I can tell.” Betty walked into the room, her dark eyes watching the young girl with motherly compassion. “The poor child must be exhausted. This is no way to treat a person who’s been through what she’s been through.”

      “But that’s what I’m trying to determine—what she’s been through.” Ryan didn’t bother to hide the hint of irritation. Unlike most interviews he conducted, he definitely wasn’t in control of this one. But then it wasn’t every day that he had to conduct an initial assessment in the living room of one of his neighbor’s houses.

      “Providence,” Tess said softly.

      They both turned to look at her. “Providence is the capital of Rhode Island. And I feel fine—just a little hungry.”

      The hard-nosed farm wife shot a triumphant look in Ryan’s direction. “Of course you are, dear. I’m going to make you a nice stack of buttermilk pancakes.” She glared at Ryan. “And if you’re done asking silly questions, you’re welcome to have some, too.”

      Tess stood, the huge quilt draped around her like a tent. As she walked toward the archway leading to the kitchen, the quilt caught on the end of the couch, slid off her shoulders and fell to the floor. Seemingly unaware of her naked condition, Tess continued on toward the kitchen, her bare feet padding softly on the hardwood floor.

      Ryan blinked and swallowed hard. Lord, give me strength, he muttered. A true goddess walked among them. A goddess with legs that went on forever and a body so magnificently flawless that his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

      He tried not to stare, but he had a perfect view of her firm buttocks as she walked away. Muscle dimpled one firm cheek as she moved, and Ryan forced himself to breathe.

      She turned to glance at him and Ryan struggled to keep his mouth from falling open. Her breasts were high and firm, and as her hair swung forward, each strand reflected an almost blinding sheen of white in the faint light. The fall of white gold fell over her slender shoulders and onto her chest, brushing the dark, taut nipples that peeped through the silky strands.

      The fact that she seemed totally unaware of her nakedness wasn’t lost on Ryan. It was an unusual reaction and one he tucked away for later consideration.

      “Are you coming, Doctor?” she asked innocently before turning and continuing on into the kitchen.

      Ryan stumbled, getting to his feet, raising a hand to stop her, but he couldn’t get any words out. Damn. He had expected beauty, but this went way beyond even that. Way beyond.

      A shaft of heat shot through him and settled deep in the pit of his belly. Sweat dampened his hands. He sucked hot air.

      “Oh, my,” Betty blurted out as Tess brushed past.

      A string of startled curses and the sound of chairs scraping frantically across the linoleum told Ryan he wasn’t the only male getting an eyeful.

      He bent down and picked up the quilt. “If I were you, Betty, I’d find Tess something a little more permanent than a blanket. Otherwise, none of us are going to be able to concentrate on your good cooking.”

      Betty snatched the quilt out of his hand and marched through the archway into the kitchen. “Close your eyes, all of you!” she ordered in the crisp tones of a drill sergeant.

      Ryan followed, concern replacing his amusement. Tess might be beautiful, but her confused СКАЧАТЬ