much do you remember?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Her husky voice broke and her full lips quivered, just the slightest bit. “Not even my name or what happened to me.”
He took a seat in the chair next to the bed, suppressing the urge to take her hand. “Give it time. You’ve suffered a traumatic accident. I’m quite confident you’ll start to remember bits and pieces as time goes on.”
“I hope so.” Her sleepy smile transformed her face, lighting her up, changing her from pretty to absolutely gorgeous.
Unbelievably, he felt his body stir in response. Shocked, he nearly pushed to his feet. This kind of thing had never happened to him, ever. He’d learned to maintain a professional detachment.
Yet something about this woman was different. She seemed more...helpless, or something. And cute. Despite her bruises and the road rash on her cheek and neck, she reminded him of a flower, delicate and fresh.
Again, not appropriate. But, he reminded himself, he was not her doctor. He’d only witnessed her accident after his shift.
When he went silent, her long, silky lashes swept down over her eyes, making him wonder if she’d fallen back asleep. But then she sighed, and raised her gaze to give him a long look. “The nurse said I was in an accident and then you mentioned an ambulance.”
“Yes.” He decided not to elaborate, feeling it would be better if she remembered on her own.
“Was I in a car crash?”
“Sort of.” Eyeing her, he remembered something else. “When you were hurt, you called out for Walter. Do you remember who that might be?”
“Walter?” she said, overenunciating, almost as if trying to sound out a word in a foreign language. “Walter.”
“Husband?” He didn’t like that idea, but it was a possibility. “Friend? Brother? Coworker?”
“Stop. I honestly have no idea.” She held up her hand, turning it to study her ring finger on her left hand. “I don’t see a wedding band, so I don’t think I’m married.”
The rush of gladness he felt at her words shocked him at first. “I wouldn’t think so,” he agreed.
“Me either.” A faint hint of hysteria had crept into her voice. “Hopefully I couldn’t forget my own husband.”
Now he did give in to temptation and touch her, lightly squeezing her shoulder, overly aware of the smoothness of her skin under the thin hospital gown. “Don’t stress. Believe me, you’ll remember in time.”
When she exhaled, she seemed deflated. “Thank you, Doctor.” The slight shine in her cornflower eyes told him she was fighting back tears.
This made his chest tighten. Immediately, he stood, slightly confused at the tangle of emotion she invoked in him. “You’ll be fine,” he repeated. “I’m sure Dr. Patel will be by to check on you soon.”
“Dr. Patel? You’re not my doctor?”
Unbelievably, she sounded...hurt. Even more unbelievable, he had to hide a grin.
“No, I’m not. I’m sorry.” On the way to the door, he turned back to glance at her. First mistake.
Her light brown curls looked windblown, and the perfect bow of her lush mouth made him want to kiss her. The stab of desire hit him low in his gut, completely unexpected and unwelcome.
He dragged his hand across his face, aware he needed to go but unable to pull himself away.
“Even though I can’t recall anything about what happened to me, for some reason I recognize you,” she mused. “How is that possible? Why would I remember one thing and not the others? What happened to me, exactly?”
“Probably because your memory is coming back in bits and pieces,” he told her, aware he hadn’t answered her question. But he didn’t want to reveal to her how she’d been injured; he’d rather give her the chance to remember on her own.
She blinked, her gaze both sleepy and seductive. His instinctive response to this slammed into him, so powerful he took a step back.
Dangerous.
Clearly, he’d lost his mind. He had to get out of there immediately, before he did something he’d regret. “Feel better soon. Take care,” he said, dipping his chin in a quick nod before he left her room.
He didn’t slow down until he reached the nurse’s station, which mercifully was empty at the moment. Taking a seat, he tried to calm his racing heart. Since work usually absorbed him, he took another look at Jane Doe’s chart.
Everything confirmed what he’d been told. Mild concussion and some bruising. Which meant, under any other circumstances, she’d be released to go home soon.
But she didn’t know where home was. So what were they going to do with her?
His cell phone vibrated. His brother Ryan. Since Ryan worked for the Tulsa PD, maybe he could help find out who the mystery woman was, and who exactly Walter might be. He really needed to know if Walter was her husband, for reasons he didn’t even want to consider right now.
Stepping into the hallway, Eric answered.
“I heard you got involved in a hit-and-run last night,” Ryan said by way of greeting.
“Yes, as a witness. As a matter of fact, I just left the victim’s room. I’m hoping you can help me.” Briefly, he outlined what little he knew. “I’ve already told most of this to the guys who came out to investigate last night. Though I know they’re busy.”
“Like I’m not?” Ryan laughed, taking the sting off his words. “How about we discuss it over lunch?”
“I’m meeting Greta. She’s in town and I haven’t seen her in a while.” And they both knew their sister frowned upon any “shop” talk when they got together.
“Dinner, then?”
“It’ll have to be a late one. You know how Greta likes to talk.”
They both laughed. Lunch would no doubt turn out to last at least two hours. Which was fine with Eric. He didn’t get to see his sister as often as he’d like. Since she’d gotten engaged, she’d moved to Oklahoma City, and didn’t come back to Tulsa as often. Her wedding had been postponed when Abra got hurt. Greta refused to get married without her mother. She continually said she’d wait until Abra was out of the coma.
“Dinner it is. I’ll call you when I get off work.” With that, Ryan ended the call.
Eric had just started to walk toward the elevator when his phone rang again. Thinking Ryan must have forgotten something, he answered.
“This is Nurse McPherson from Tulsa General. Dr. Colton?”
Immediately every nerve ending went on full alert. Phone calls like this usually meant he was needed for trauma surgery. Adrenaline pumping through him, he answered in the affirmative.
“I’m
