to reason,” she ground out.
When he met her gaze, his own snapped with stubbornness. “So it was an act? You’re not going to let me fall or follow the blood trail?”
“Look, if you don’t get the medical attention you need, you’re going to be one gigantic infection and that will probably finish you off.”
“She’s right, Mr. Reynolds.” The doctor went to his other side and helped Megan get him back on the gurney.
“You can’t keep me here if I don’t choose to stay.”
“Of course we can,” Megan said, bluffing again.
“Liar.” Simon’s forehead beaded with perspiration. “I’m a regular. I know the rules.”
She looked at the ER doctor for help. “Do something.”
“You know as well as I do that he’s within his rights to refuse treatment. Is there anyone at home who can look after you?”
Simon shook his head. “I don’t need anyone.”
“You do need medical care.” Dr. Sullivan rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
“What kind of care?” Simon asked.
She met his gaze. “Stitches on the shoulder or you’ll have the mother of all scars.”
“Chicks love scars.”
“Says who? And scars aren’t the issue. But a nasty infection could ruin your day. The rest of your boo-boos need debriding.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“You don’t know? With all your experience, I assumed you’d be familiar with the procedure. But I see you’re an equal opportunity catastrophe. Debriding is where I pick the gravel out while you bite on a stick.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Way to make me want to stay,” he said wryly.
“We’ll give you a local anesthetic,” the doctor explained. “But it’s got to be done.”
“Here?”
“Unless you sign yourself out AMA,” Megan said. “Against medical advice,” she translated. Although he probably already knew. “If you leave and fall down, you could hurt yourself even worse. But you’ll have no legal recourse with the hospital.”
“I’ll risk it—”
“Why do you want to?” She put her hands on her hips. “Look, you gave us your insurance card, so I know you’re covered.”
“Money isn’t a problem.”
“Then what is the problem?” she demanded.
“I hate hospitals.”
“There’s a news flash.”
“This isn’t getting us anywhere.” The doctor rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Look, Mr. Reynolds, what if you let us clean you up, then you spend the night here? We’d like to keep you twenty-four hours for observation, but we’ll take what we can get. Tomorrow we’ll send you on your way with a home health-care professional.”
“A nurse?” he asked, looking at her.
“Definitely.” The doctor nodded. “You’ll need to have an IV, dressings changed, close observation in case of concussion. We don’t want you passing out all by your lonesome. You’re going to need general care because of the soreness. It’s going to be hard to get around.”
Simon was quiet for several moments. Megan could see he was thinking it over. Still, she wasn’t prepared for his answer.
“Can I have Megan?”
Chapter Two
Simon figured if he hadn’t already had his head examined, he would need to give it serious consideration in the near future. His thinking was crystal clear in spite of the goose egg. Although what he’d just asked sure didn’t prove it. What in the world had possessed him to ask for Megan? The shocked look on her face said she wasn’t keen on the idea, although there was no need to worry. He had no intention of actually going through with this home nursing thing. But her reaction made him damn curious.
She took one step away from the bed. “I’m afraid the home health-care system doesn’t work that way, Mr. Reynolds.”
“It’s Simon, remember? And what way is that?”
“Assignments are handled by the coordinator, Pat Gautreau.”
“What about requests?”
“It’s not a call-in radio show,” she snapped.
“I didn’t mean to insinuate that it was.”
“Time out.” The doctor put his hand up. “I’m going to put in the paperwork requesting a home nurse for you, Mr. Reynolds. I’ll get in touch with Pat and see what she can do to accommodate your personnel preferences. In the meantime, Megan, clean him up. One way or the other he’s going to need that. I’ll do the sutures when I come back.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
After the doc left, Simon watched her move around the small space. It took several moments to register that she never looked at him. She pulled over a stand-up metal tray and put a disposable cloth on it. Paper crackled as she assembled packaged squares, gauze and other mysterious packets. It looked like she was preparing for major surgery. If she pulled out a scalpel, he was outta there, even if he had to crawl.
Finally, she looked at him. “Okay, hero. Lie back down and grit your teeth.”
He complied with her first request, sucking in a breath when every part of his body protested. He slowly let the air out, then said, “So why don’t you want to come home with me?”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“My brains might be scrambled, but I’m not stupid.” He watched her tear open a square white package, then closed his eyes. She was a bundle of energy, and it made his head hurt to watch her.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” The clipped tone said she knew damn well.
“You looked like you’d swallowed a whole bottle of castor oil when I asked for you.”
“Hold still. I’m going to spray on a topical anesthetic for the pain. It might sting a bit.”
He felt something cool on his skin. It stung for an instant, then stopped and there was blessed relief as the throbbing discomfort went down a notch. He opened his eyes. “Come on, Megan. What’s your deal?”
“I don’t have a deal. You’re imagining things. You should have your head examined.”
“I already did. What happened to the straight-talking, take-no-prisoners angel of mercy?”
“I’m
