when you’re recuperated enough. I called after dinner. He’s found something.”
“Really?” Her smile lit up her entire lovely face, and Reeve found himself wanting to return it. “What is it?” She propped her weight on one hand resting on the bed.
“Wait.” He hated seeing her look so uncomfortable, so he drew closer and pushed the button that adjusted the back of the bed. It rose with a whir, and she leaned back as soon as it stopped. This close, he could smell her soft spicy scent, the one he had been aware of even when he’d discovered her in her wrecked car, except now the scent was incongruously interspersed with her infant’s baby powder. He pulled up a metal chair from beneath the window and sat near the bed. “How are you at convincing delinquent accounts to cough up what they owe?”
She gave a small laugh. “Like me?”
He laughed, too. “Well, at least you’re willing to pay. Some people who owe the center ignore their debts.”
“I’ll pay, I promise. And if I have to do it by strong-arming others into paying, too, I’ll manage.” She sounded so serious that he wanted to squeeze the small hand that lay on top of the white bedclothes. Strong-arm? She seemed too delicate for that. And yet her offer to stay and work here, while still recuperating from an accident and surgery, told him that she had a powerful determination that was inconsistent with her vulnerable demeanor.
“Great. As soon as you’re feeling up to it, I’ll have Clifford fill you in more about the job. Oh, and Frannie Meltzer has an idea about child care.”
“Thank you,” Polly said. “I really appreciate this. I can’t tell you how much.” Her face glowed, her small chin tipped up and he had a sudden urge to bend and kiss those full, tempting lips.
He stood in a hurry. “I’d better go.” He walked briskly toward the door, but remembered something and turned back to her.
She was staring after him. There was a longing expression on her face, as though she had wanted him to kiss her.
He shook his head. Fool. He was imagining it. Even if he weren’t, such an act would be utterly inappropriate. She was a patient at the medical center. His medical center. She was nearly his patient, for he had treated her before anyone else.
And, he reminded himself, she had a husband somewhere. Maybe a divorced husband, but one who just might want to know about this baby, despite what Polly had claimed about sleeping around—a claim Reeve couldn’t bring himself to believe.
“I almost forgot,” he said. “Clifford said someone called, asking after you.”
She didn’t move, yet seemed suddenly to cringe. Her face drained of the little color it held. “Who?”
“I’m not sure, but I had the impression it was the guy from the gas station where they towed your car. Clifford said something about selling it for scrap parts.”
“Oh.” Her voice sounded weak, but it grew stronger. “Well, sure. Though I’ll want to talk to him about it first, just in case it can be fixed.”
Reeve gave a brief, ironic laugh. “Not the car I saw. But I’ll tell Clifford to have the guy speak with you.”
He said his goodbyes, then left the room. He paused outside the door in bemusement. Was Polly Black a runaway wife? That would explain a lot. Her reactions were not those of a woman simply traveling to stay with a friend. She had seemed afraid when he’d mentioned that someone was asking after her. She had seemed terrified when she’d learned Alicia was a reporter.
And if she were hiding from her husband, then what? If it came to a choice between helping her hide and revealing her whereabouts to the poor bastard whose kid was being kept from him, which would Reeve do?
Maybe it was his attraction to this woman that made Reeve unsure whose side he would take.
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