in an instant.

It was a good thing, too.

Because she went gray, her legs buckled, and I snagged her arm before her head could crack into the frame, tugging her body against mine.

She tried to shrug me off. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I am fi—”

A sentiment that was cut off by her passing out, going completely limp in my hold. I moved quickly, slipping one arm beneath her knees, shifting the other to her shoulders, and hoisting her up against my chest.

“She’s the injured one,” I told the doctor needlessly.

To her credit, Dr. Stevens didn’t blink, just said, “Let’s get her inside.”

I turned around but not before I saw another camera flash.

And I knew—just knew—that Maggie was going to kill me for not calling her.

Chapter Six

Tammy

I woke to a strange tugging at my arm, muffled voices in the background.

For a moment, I thought I was back home, back in Darlington, my adorable twin nieces having snuck into my house and attempting to wake me.

But, for one, the mattress I was lying on was much more comfortable than my own, and for another, the voices in the background were male.

“Easy,” came a female voice, and my eyes flashed open to see a woman holding a needle and a pair of scissors in either hand. “I’m Dr. Stevens,” she said. “You have quite a nasty gash, but I’m nearly done stitching it up. How are you feeling?”

Exhausted for one.

Weak for another.

But that was just the adrenaline coming down, or perhaps it was from the loss of blood. The cut had soaked through most of the gauze the paramedic had given me before I’d finally managed to get it to stop.

“I’m fine.”

A smile. “You good with me finishing up?”

I nodded, directed my eyes away from my arm, and tried to ignore the tugging when it resumed.

“You were asleep for the cleaning part,” she said lightly. “Lucky for you. But I do want to put you on some hefty antibiotics, just in case that blade was dirtier than it looked. As for blood loss, you lost quite a bit, but as long as you take it easy for the next couple of days, you should bounce back quickly.”

Well, there went my trip to the happiest place on Earth.

I made a face.

She laughed, patted my hand. “It’s not so bad, I promise.”

“I’m here on vacation,” I said, turning back in time to see her snip the thread—or whatever material it was that doctors used to stitch people up—and set the instruments aside.

“Knife wound as a souvenir. That sucks.”

I snorted.

She patted my hand again. “Though, what doesn’t suck is having that man go all protective and growly over you.” Her head inclined toward Talbot, and I followed her gaze, saw he was watching me while speaking to Officer McTavish again.

“What do you mean?” I asked, glancing back.

Her brows lifted. “You’d have thought the man had the queen in his arms when you passed out.” She tugged off her gloves. “And I don’t mean to make light of it, because clearly, you’re a person who deserves care, but I don’t think Talbot Green is going to forget what you did for him any time soon.”

Shock made it so no words came.

Not that it mattered as Dr. Stevens began relaying information for me, writing me out a prescription for antibiotics (after shooing the men out so she could give me a shot of them in my ass, joy of joys). Then she took down my email so she could email me instructions, waved off my offer of my health insurance and my credit card, saying it was already taken care of.

Then she packed up her bag, patted my hand for a third time, and left.

The men weren’t back yet, and I was alone, lying in a bed that wasn’t my own, in a giant room with flowy furnishings along with a humungous TV on one wall, and trying to reconcile the image of Talbot being protective and growly.

Over me. A woman he hardly knew.

It just didn’t fit in with the flirtatious, teasing man from the garden and car ride, nor with the stunned one in the aftermath of the attack.

He’d been so quiet, so withdrawn.

So . . . protective? Growly?

Um, what?

That just didn’t compute.

A soft knock had me looking up, tearing my gaze from the large painting of birch trees adorning one long wall over to the door.

“Hey,” Talbot said when I met his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Besides the throbbing in my arm and the swishing sensation in my brain? I was just peachy. I also needed to find a way to get out of here and back to my hotel. I’d stay in bed, order room service, and veg out on bad television.

Kind of what I’d do if I were home alone.

Only paying two hundred and fifty bucks a night to do it.

Not the point.

“I’m great,” I said, pushing my elbows beneath me. “I should probably go.”

He shook his head.

I frowned.

“You can’t go anywhere for the next few hours, at least. They’re still processing the crime scene, and that’s not even considering the paparazzi camped out there. You’d be overrun in just a few seconds.” A sharp shake of his head. “I need to get you security.”

I plunked my feet onto the floor. “I can take care of myself.”

Golden eyes on mine. “That, I know.” He crossed over to me, dropped a hand on my shoulder before I could stand, keeping my ass on the comfy mattress. “And me, too, apparently.” His expression was filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry you were here and got caught up in this.”

“I’m not.”

He blinked.

“If I weren’t here, something bad might have happened.” He made a noise of protest, and I amended my statement. “Something worse might have happened.”

“You were hurt protecting me.”

And there was a hint of a growl.

Interesting.

Also interesting was the way it sent a ribbon of desire through me, curling in my abdomen, dragging over my skin like heated silk.

I lifted my chin. “It’s my job

Вы читаете Meet Cute
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату