Racing Against the Clock. Lori Wilde
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“Okay. It’s probably better to avoid drugs anyway. There’s no telling how they might react with those chemicals you came into contact with.” His brow knit with concern.
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Listen, I have surgery at seven-thirty this morning, so I have to head back to Houston. I’m sorry, there’s no food in the house but there’s a convenience store at the end of the block that should be open in a hour. Do you think you can walk that far?”
She nodded.
“I’ll leave you some cash.” He picked up his wallet off the bar and pulled out three twenty-dollar bills and laid them on the counter. “Will you be all right here alone?”
“Yes.”
“Sleep, read, rest. Make yourself at home. I should be back by three-thirty since I’m not on call today.”
“Thank you so very much. I’ll pay you back whenever I can. I promise.”
“I’m not worried about it and if you need something else to wear later on, check out the closet in my bedroom. There’re some clothes that used to belong to my wife and you’re just about her size.”
“You’re very generous.”
Tyler looked deeply into her eyes. “You will be here when I get back.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I can’t make any promises,” she admitted.
“Here’s my beeper number.” He scrawled the number on a notepad hanging by the telephone. “Page me if you need me.”
Unexpected tears misted her eyes. Why was he being so nice to her? She was nothing to him. An odd stranger who had materialized in his emergency room. She didn’t know how to deal with kindness. She wasn’t used to such an intimate connection with others.
“You’re feeling a little emotional,” he said as if he could read her thoughts. “It’s not surprising, given the circumstances. Come.” He held out his arm. “Let me put you back into bed.”
Uncertain, she hung back, but Dr. Fresno was not the type to take her hesitation for an answer. Smoothly, he reached over and slipped his hand into hers.
His touch instantly calmed her in a way that confused Hannah. Why should she be so reassured by a stranger? Especially when there was nothing he could really do to help her. And yet she felt safer with him than she ever had with anyone, including her own parents.
What was wrong with her? Why was she so hungry to trust this man?
“Come,” he coaxed, drawing her upstairs beside him and draping his free arm around her shoulder.
He was good at handling people. But of course, he was a medical doctor who had been taught the importance of therapeutic touch. She had the strongest urge to lean into his body and absorb his warmth, but she wasn’t accustomed to such intimacies with a total stranger, nor was she accustomed to following her emotions.
Instead, she did what came naturally. She kept her shoulders stiff and her attention diverted from the sensation of his warm breath tickling the nape of her neck.
“Here we are,” Tyler said gently, leading her into the guest bedroom. “Back to bed.”
Hannah’s heart did a strange little skip. She couldn’t stop looking at him. She admired his strong jaw, the curve of his firm chin, the flat planes of his cheeks. She took a curious delight in the way his hair curled along his collar. She yearned to run her fingers along his neck and knead those corded muscles.
What she wanted was for Dr. Fresno to make love to her. She wanted him to kiss her. She ached to feel his hands at her back, pulling her close, locking her to him. She longed to rip off his pajamas and share with him the hottest, most dynamic sexual passion she’d never had the pleasure to experience.
But were her feelings really based on pure sexual need, as she told herself they were, or was it something frighteningly more? Was she really just seeking to assuage her fear and loneliness through bodily contact?
Earth to Hannah, earth to Hannah. This man is not a potential lover.
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