Hannah opened her mouth to respond, but he silenced her with a lethal look. “We can’t allow anything, especially our personal lives, to affect our work here or to jeopardize the safety and health of our patients. Is that understood, Dr. Hartwell?”
The seriousness of his words brought a wave of shame to her. “Yes, perfectly,” Hannah whispered.
“Then I suggest you go home until you’ve had time to recover, and let this…this circus you’ve created die down.”
Hannah nodded, biting her lip as her superior turned and strode from the room. Tiffany patted her arm sympathetically. “We’ll get you something to eat, Doc. You’re not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.”
Hannah’s heart squeezed at Tiffany’s unusual show of concern. She’d witnessed the woman mothering some of the young nurses but had never been on the receiving end of such treatment. Hannah had always been the caretaker. She didn’t like this vulnerable feeling. “I’m fine, really, Tiffany. I need to see about that patient.” Worry assaulted her. “Please tell me I didn’t pass out on top of him.”
Tiffany laughed. “No, on the floor.”
“Thank God.”
“But Mr. Tippins climbed down and took your pulse while he yelled for help.”
“Great, the patient doctoring the doctor.” Hannah put her hand across her forehead. “I hope he didn’t injure himself further.”
“Mr. Tippins looked like a pretty tough man to me. I think he’ll be all right.” Tiffany checked her watch. “Dr. Hunter should be removing the bullet just about now.”
Hannah accepted the juice Tiffany offered, deciding she’d rest for a few minutes, but only until Jake Tippins made it to recovery. Then she’d visit the man, apologize and beg his forgiveness. And she’d find out if she’d been hallucinating when she’d examined him. He simply couldn’t have a birthmark like the man in her dreams.
Because bizarre things like this didn’t happen to her.
Mimi, maybe.
But not stable, secure, hardworking, levelheaded, mature Hannah.
“WELL, that just about covers it.” Hannah avoided Jake’s hard gaze as she instructed him on activities to avoid during recovery. “Do you understand, Mr. Tippins?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice slightly slurred from the medication.
Tension knotted Hannah’s shoulders. “On behalf of my father, I want to thank you for catching that thief. And I want to apologize for fainting on you.”
“It was no big deal.” Still lying on his stomach, he propped his face on his hand and looked up at her, a goofy grin on his face as if he sensed her awkwardness. Either that or the pain medication had affected his brain.
The chief of staff’s warning rang in her ears. “Well, I truly am sorry.”
“No problem, Doc.”
But she did have problems. Somehow she had to forget that she’d seen this man’s naked backside in her dreams. And that the very reason she’d canceled her wedding and jilted her fiancé at the altar was because of the erotic dream she’d had about him.
Back to business. She had to salvage her reputation. She might have lost Seth and the Broadhurst name, but she couldn’t lose her job. And if she didn’t start acting more professionally, she probably would do just that. “How are you feeling now, Mr. Tippins?”
“Just peachy,” he said in a deep drawl. “How about you?”
Hannah tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling. “I’m fine.” Just coming down with a case of the Hartwell crazies.
“Your color’s looking better.”
Hannah averted her eyes, lifting the bandage slightly to check his incision. “Are you in pain?”
“I was earlier, but you distracted me.”
Hannah resisted the urge to pinch him and wipe that cocky grin off his face. “That wasn’t my intention, I can assure you. It’s been a hectic day, and I hadn’t eaten anything. I’ll definitely be more careful from now on and watch my blood-sugar level.”
He rolled his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Ahh gee, and here I thought I was special.”
The man was incorrigible.
Ignoring him, she said, “Get some rest tonight. We should be able to release you tomorrow.”
He must have been exhausted because he simply nodded and smiled tightly. His only sign of pain—the muscles in his cheeks clenched when she retaped the bandage.
Hannah swallowed, stunned by the sudden hot sensations weaving through her. Maybe her hormones were out of whack. Coupled with nerves, an imbalance could cause hot flashes. She should check her estrogen levels, although she was way too young for—
“Doc?”
She signed off on his chart. “Get some rest now, Mr. Tippins. I need to check my other patients.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”
Hannah paused, absentmindedly tapping the chart with her pen. “How did you know I was getting married?”
“Wiley let everyone at the dealership off early to attend your wedding. That’s the reason I was working by myself.”
Right, he worked for her father; how could she forget? Maybe if there’d been someone else working with him he wouldn’t have been shot.
Something else for her to feel guilty about.
His fingers brushed over her knuckles. “Did I say something to upset you?”
Hannah pulled her hand away, her eyes glued to his long tanned fingers. “I…er, I didn’t get married today.”
His dark eyebrows lifted slightly over high cheekbones. “I could have sworn I saw you in a wedding dress. Must have been hallucinating from the pain.”
“No, I was wearing one when I arrived,” Hannah admitted, figuring he’d hear the news from the car-lot grapevine. “I called off the wedding.”
A streak of surprise lit his sleepy, bedroom eyes. “That’s too bad.”
She arched a brow at him. He didn’t sound as if he thought it was bad at all. And he was a stranger; she didn’t owe him an explanation.
“I’m sure my dad will come by to thank you for your heroics,” she said, reverting back to their earlier conversation.
A brooding expression tightened the lines at the corner of his mouth. She’d run out on a good, stable man because she’d dreamt of this stranger?
Forget hormone pills. She should call the men in the little white coats to come
