“But of course, sire,” Dr. Bluff replied with an incline of the head. “We shall not have it any other way. Are there any other special provisions you require for her?”
Darius could feel the woman’s eyes narrowing on him. “No, that is all.”
“She shall be treated with the utmost consideration.”
“She better be,” he growled.
* * *
A mere half hour later, Anne and her bed were wheeled back into her little green-draped subdivision. And what do you know, the man with the blue eyes and the big body was just where she’d left him, waiting on that flimsy plastic chair like a dog at the front door during a workday.
“Dr. Bluff will be back in very soon,” the orderly said. “You good?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The guy nodded. “You take care now.”
And then she and her mystery man were alone again. As she glanced over at him, she had a feeling he was trying not to stare at her, and there was the temptation to think it was because he found her alluring in some way.
Yeah, because this hospital gown really brought out the red in all of her bruises.
“Did they treat you in an acceptable manner?” he asked as he continued to focus on the floor.
He had the strangest way of putting things, so formal, so precise.
“They were great, thanks. Although I think I glow in the dark now from all the X-rays.” She pulled her blankets up a little higher. “I really can’t believe how quickly this is going.”
When he just nodded, Anne reached up and probed the white bandage that was over her eyebrow. A female doctor had come in and listened to her lungs and checked her stomach and torso for problems, and then, when there had been a short wait for the X-ray machine to be free, the woman had cleaned and covered anything that required a clinical-grade Band-Aid.
“Were they gentle with you?”
She turned her head on the thin pillow. The mystery man who seemed to be orchestrating the whole ER visit had crossed his legs knee to knee, and had one long, elegant hand hanging off his thigh, his perfect posture turning that flimsy chair into a throne. Unsurprisingly, his profile was every bit as good as the head-on of his face, his nose a straight shot down from his brows, his jaw strong, his broad shoulders and pronounced upper arms the perfect frame to it all. Even though his hair was dark, he had no five-o’clock shadow, and she wondered if his chest was bare or—
Flushing, she looked away. Then she rearranged her-self on the hospital bed with a groan. Things were already stiffening up on her, her muscles tightening, certain joints locking into place. Likewise, contusions were settling in for a duration on what felt like most of her body, the focal points of soreness like bad-apple roses, all thorns.
“Who are you?” she blurted. “To this hospital, I mean.”
There was a pause. “Just another onlooker.”
“You know the doctor, though.”
“Not really.”
She had to glance back at him. “What was the language you spoke to him in? I didn’t recognize it.”
“It’s just an obscure European dialect. It doesn’t matter.”
“So how did you know he’d speak it?”
Before he could reply, the curtain was pulled back, and Dr. Bluff stepped in. “Everything looks good.” He focused on the mystery man. “Nothing is broken. I think she’ll have some lingering swelling and soreness—”
“Hey, Doc,” Anne interrupted. When both men looked at her in surprise, she smiled tightly and gave them a little wave. “When you’re reporting the results of my X-rays, I’d appreciate it if I’m the one you’re giving them to.”
Dr. Bluff blinked. Glanced at the man.
When the man nodded, the doctor came up to the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry I focused on your husband. Of course, you’re right.”
Anne sat up a little higher, ignoring the way her shoulder thumped with pain. “He’s not my husband.”
“I—all right then.” Dr. Bluff shook his head like he was confused, but not going to dwell on business that was none of his own. “At any rate, we don’t see any fractures or misalignments. Your vitals are great, your wounds attended to. I’m comfortable releasing you with just a light pain reliever. But if you experience any double vision, nausea or vomiting, new or worsening headache, or any other symptoms that concern you, I want you to get in touch with your doctor or come back here.”
“I don’t have a physician.”
“Then you need to return to St. Francis and ask for me.” Dr. Bluff glanced back at the man. “I’ll take care of her. Don’t you worry.”
Okaaaaaay, she was really ready for the day when adult women weren’t treated like children.
“Great,” she muttered. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” Dr. Bluff murmured to the man with a little bow. “I’ll just go write a prescription and she can be on her way.”
After the doctor left, Anne closed her eyes in frustration, but decided to move on from being treated like a child—because she had a bigger problem than the kind of benevolent misogyny she dealt with at work. Or in her neighborhood. Or out in the world, in general.
“I don’t have my purse,” she said to herself. “So I don’t have my keys… my ID…”
“I am so sorry. I didn’t see anything in the road—”
“No, it’s because I left it in his…” She went to rub her face and poked herself in the bandage, right where it hurt. Cursing, she put her head back and stared at the ceiling. “This night just keeps getting longer, it really does.”
“Where did you leave your things?”
“Back with him.”
As a strange sound weaved around her bed, she looked over to it. The man’s brows were down low, and his eyes gleamed with something that she couldn’t define—no, wait. She knew what it was.
She wasn’t threatened by the fury, however.
In a low voice, he said, “I’ll get your things back from whoever, wherever. Just say the word and it is done.”
The words were spoken quietly, but somehow, the lack of volume made them scarier than if he’d yelled them. And as much as it didn’t reflect well on her character, she entertained a brief, but very vivid, fantasy of this man she didn’t know at all showing up on the doorstep of a man she’d thought she’d known very well.
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “I’ll take care of myself.”
The curtain pulled back again and Dr. Bluff reentered. “All right, here’s the prescription. It’s just a little Tylenol with codeine to help her sleep. Take as needed. She should expect to feel pretty sore for the next couple of days.”
As he went to give the slip to the man, there was another exchange in that language she couldn’t translate—and then the man who’d been sitting with her frowned and leaned forward in the plastic chair. With a shake of the head, the doctor put his hands out as if he were insisting—after which Anne’s mystery man got to his feet and offered his palm. As they shook, that slip changed possession.
“You take care,” Dr. Bluff said to her. “You’re going to be just fine.”