done what he felt had been right, and that would be the end of it.
“What’s your name?” Greta asked.
“Right now, we’re calling her MW,” Eric put in smoothly. “For Mystery Woman.”
If anything, Greta’s hazel eyes got rounder. “I see.”
“About lunch...” he began.
“I can run out and get a few sub sandwiches,” Greta managed. “If you don’t want to go out. I can bring them back here.”
Glancing at MW, he nodded. “That would be helpful.”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to disrupt your plans,” MW said. “I’m pretty tired anyway, so if you could direct me to your guest room, I think I’d like to take a nap.”
Ignoring his sister’s eagle-eyed stare, he took MW’s arm and led her down the hallway to his spare room, which thankfully his cleaning service kept ready for guests.
Despite everything that had happened to her, and his insistent hold on her arm, she carried herself confidently. He noted the top of her head came up just underneath his chin.
Perfect.
“Here you go,” he told her, swallowing hard as he released her. “We’re going to need to get you some toiletries and clothes, too.”
Consternation turned her eyes the color of storm clouds as she blinked up at him. Helpless to move, he again noticed the sensual rosebud shape of her mouth and the luxurious sweep of her dark brown eyelashes.
“I have no money, no way to pay you back. At least, not right now.”
Clothes. They’d been talking about clothing.
“Then it’s a good thing I have plenty.” Unable to resist the urge to touch her again, he squeezed her shoulder. “Right now I don’t want you to worry about anything but getting better.”
“Thank you, then.” And she moved away. Her yawn as she settled onto the bed told him she’d be out in minutes.
He almost asked her if she wanted to take off the ill-fitting and ugly clothes, but the realization that she’d be naked if she did stopped him in his tracks. Once summoned, the image wouldn’t leave him. He had to throttle the rush of desire racing through him.
Crud.
Without saying another word, he left.
After he closed the guest room door, he went into his living room, where Greta still waited for him, fairly bouncing up and down in her agitation. Today she wore her wavy dark hair in a ponytail and her usual jeans and cowboy boots, even though the temperature was pushing a hundred.
“What the heck are you doing?” she whispered loudly. “If she’s your patient, aren’t you going to get into all kinds of legal trouble for doing this?”
“She’s not my patient,” he told her back. “And I’m just helping out a fellow human being.”
“A fellow...” She gave him a sidelong look. “I think I get it. This is an extension of your job to you, isn’t it?”
Since his entire family all knew Eric lived and breathed for his work, he nodded. “Yes. I was there, I saw the car hit her. I can’t just turn her out on the street with no memory and let her fend for herself. I’ve asked Ryan to personally work on finding out what we can about her.”
Greta’s skeptical expression told him she still wasn’t entirely buying into his story. “Okay. Couldn’t you have turned her over to adult Social Services or something?”
“Not without knowing her identity.”
“What if she’s a criminal? She could be a bank robber or a murderess, for all you know.”
He laughed. “When you hear the sound of hooves, don’t look for zebras. It’s usually a herd of horses.”
“What?”
“It’s an old medical school saying. What seems obvious usually is. MW was just a very unlucky woman. Some idiot was in a hurry and ran a light and hit her. I believe it won’t be long until she’s back to normal. Until then, she’s welcome to stay here.”
Continuing to study him, her hazel eyes dark, Greta finally nodded. “Okay. Then tell me how I can help,” she said.
Relieved that he’d managed to sound convincing, he nodded. “Let’s go grab some lunch—we’ll bring something back for MW—and I’ll tell you.”
“Okay.”
Grinning, he took his sister’s arm. “What are you in the mood for?”
She gave him a second sidelong glance. “We can go to the deli. I’ve been craving a panini.”
They visited the little deli a block from his place. It wasn’t fancy, but the interior felt homey with the blue-and-white-checkered tables. Inside, the smell of cheese and pastrami and marinara made his mouth water. Eric loved their meatball subs. He exchanged a grin with his sister.
Greta ordered a chicken pesto panini, which arrived perfectly cooked and smelling like heaven. If not for his own meatball sub, Eric might have stolen hers. “I’ll have to try that one next time,” he said, even though they both knew he wouldn’t. He always said he’d try something else, but stuck to the same sandwich. How could he resist perfection on a hoagie roll?
All talk ceased while they both dug in, eating fast so they could get back to MW.
When Greta had gotten engaged and she and their mother had started planning her wedding, his sister had been the happiest Eric had ever seen her. Then their house had been burglarized and Abra attacked, and the entire family had been thrown into a tailspin. Greta more than anyone else—as the only daughter, she and Abra had been particularly close.
Now that Abra had been placed in a medically induced coma, Greta had put her entire life on hold. She and Abra had been in the middle of planning the wedding. Despite her fiancé’s pleas, Greta refused to move forward without her mother at her side.
As a result, Greta’s usual zest for life had dimmed somewhat. All of her brothers worried about her and did whatever they could to cheer her up. Feeding her always seemed to work for Eric.
As if she’d read his thoughts, Greta’s gaze studied him. “As far as distractions go, this one’s a biggie,” she commented. “You bringing a strange woman to stay in your town house. I know she’s pretty, but still...”
He didn’t bother to pretend not to understand. “I know,” he answered. “I can hardly fathom it myself. But something about her... I couldn’t let her get put out into the street with no memory.”
“They really do that?”
“We treat a lot of Tulsa’s homeless population,” he said, blotting his mouth with his paper napkin. “There’s a limit to what we can do to assist them, especially if it’s not medical.”
She frowned.
