The Temptation of Dr. Colton

by Karen Whiddon

  Thinking about his family finally lulled him to sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning, even though it was a Saturday, he woke at five, his usual time. Once he slugged back a glass of water, he dressed and hurried downstairs to the building’s gym. He pounded out ten minutes of cardio, worked his upper body with free weights and then did another ten on the treadmill.

  Satisfied and sweaty, he returned to his town house, downed a protein shake and showered. He’d promised to meet his sister, Greta, for lunch later since she was in town, but he still had enough time to run up to the hospital and check on the mystery woman. Surely by now they’d moved her to a regular room.

  When he arrived, the nurse on call, an older woman who always seemed disgruntled, frowned at him. “Dr. Colton? Are you doing rounds today, too? I show you’re off for the weekend.”

  With a shrug, he slipped behind the counter and checked the computer. “I witnessed a woman hit by a car and brought her into the ER last night. What’s her status? Sorry, I don’t know her name.”

  “Jane Doe?”

  “That’s her name?” He crossed his arms. “Or is that what you’re calling her until you learn her real name?”

  “The latter. She’s been admitted for observation.”

  “Observation?” Which explained why he hadn’t gotten a phone call.

  “Yes.” She handed him the chart. “Take a look yourself.”

  Flipping through the pages, he barely noticed when the nurse bustled off. Unbelievably, all Jane Doe appeared to have suffered was a concussion and some bruised ribs. No broken bones or internal injuries. Wow. As far as he could tell, she was the luckiest woman in Tulsa.

  He might as well take a look at her while he was here. Chart in hand, he hurried down the hall toward her room.

  After tapping briskly twice, he pushed open the door and called out a quiet “Good morning.” Apparently, he’d woken her. She blinked groggily up at him, her amazing pale blue eyes slow to focus on him. He couldn’t help but notice her long and thick lashes.

  “Doctor?” Pushing herself up on her elbows, she shoved her light brown curls away from her face. “You look so familiar.”

  “That’s because I rode with you in the ambulance last night.”

  “Ambulance?” She tilted her head, giving him an uncertain smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about that.”

  Amnesia? He frowned. “How much do you remember?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” Her husky voice broke and her full lips quivered, just the slightest bit. “Not even my name or what happened to me.”

  He took a seat in the chair next to the bed, suppressing the urge to take her hand. “Give it time. You’ve suffered a traumatic accident. I’m quite confident you’ll start to remember bits and pieces as time goes on.”

  “I hope so.” Her sleepy smile transformed her face, lighting her up, changing her from pretty to absolutely gorgeous.

  Unbelievably, he felt his body stir in response. Shocked, he nearly pushed to his feet. This kind of thing had never happened to him, ever. He’d learned to maintain a professional detachment.

  Yet something about this woman was different. She seemed more...helpless, or something. And cute. Despite her bruises and the road rash on her cheek and neck, she reminded him of a flower, delicate and fresh.

  Again, not appropriate. But, he reminded himself, he was not her doctor. He’d only witnessed her accident after his shift.

  When he went silent, her long, silky lashes swept down over her eyes, making him wonder if she’d fallen back asleep. But then she sighed, and raised her gaze to give him a long look. “The nurse said I was in an accident and then you mentioned an ambulance.”

  “Yes.” He decided not to elaborate, feeling it would be better if she remembered on her own.

  “Was I in a car crash?”

  “Sort of.” Eyeing her, he remembered something else. “When you were hurt, you called out for Walter. Do you remember who that might be?”

  “Walter?” she said, overenunciating, almost as if trying to sound out a word in a foreign language. “Walter.”

  “Husband?” He didn’t like that idea, but it was a possibility. “Friend? Brother? Coworker?”

  “Stop. I honestly have no idea.” She held up her hand, turning it to study her ring finger on her left hand. “I don’t see a wedding band, so I don’t think I’m married.”

  The rush of gladness he felt at her words shocked him at first. “I wouldn’t think so,” he agreed.

  “Me either.” A faint hint of hysteria had crept into her voice. “Hopefully I couldn’t forget my own husband.”

  Now he did give in to temptation and touch her, lightly squeezing her shoulder, overly aware of the smoothness of her skin under the thin hospital gown. “Don’t stress. Believe me, you’ll remember in time.”

  When she exhaled, she seemed deflated. “Thank you, Doctor.” The slight shine in her cornflower eyes told him she was fighting back tears.

  This made his chest tighten. Immediately, he stood, slightly confused at the tangle of emotion she invoked in him. “You’ll be fine,” he repeated. “I’m sure Dr. Patel will be by to check on you soon.”

  “Dr. Patel? You’re not my doctor?”

  Unbelievably, she sounded...hurt. Even more unbelievable, he had to hide a grin.

  “No, I’m not. I’m sorry.” On the way to the door, he turned back to glance at her. First mistake.

  Her light brown curls looked windblown, and the perfect bow of her lush mouth made him want to kiss her. The stab of desire hit him low in his gut, completely unexpected and unwelcome.

  He dragged his hand across his face, aware he needed to go but unable to pull himself away.

  “Even though I can’t recall anything about what happened to me, for some reason I recognize you,” she mused. “How is that possible? Why would I remember one thing and not the others? What happened to me, exactly?”

  “Probably because your memory is coming back in bits and pieces,” he told her, aware he hadn’t answered her question. But he didn’t want to reveal to her how she’d been injured; he’d rather give her the chance to remember on her own.

  She blinked, her gaze both sleepy and seductive. His instinctive response to this slammed into him, so powerful he took a step back.

  Dangerous.

  Clearly, he’d lost his mind. He had to get out of there immediately, before he did something he’d regret. “Feel better soon. Take care,” he said, dipping his chin in a quick nod before he left her room.

  He didn’t slow down until he reached the nurse’s station, which mercifully was empty at the moment. Taking a seat, he tried to calm his racing heart. Since work usually absorbed him, he took another look at Jane Doe’s chart.

  Everything confirmed what he’d been told. Mild concussion and some bruising. Which meant, under any other circumstances, she’d be released to go home soon.

  But she didn’t know where home was. So what were they going to do with her?

  His cell phone vibrated. His brother Ryan. Since Ryan worked for the Tulsa PD, maybe he could help find out who the mystery woman was, and who exactly Walter might be. He really needed to know if Walter was her husband, for reasons he didn’t even want to consider right now.

  Stepping into the hallway, Eric answered.

  “I heard you got involved in a hit-and-run last night,” Ryan said by way of greeting.

  “Yes, as a witness. As a matter of fact, I just left the victim’s room. I’m hoping you can help me.” Briefly, he outlined what little he knew. “I’ve already told most of this to the guys who came out to investigate last night. Though I know they’re busy.”

  “Like I’m not?” Ryan laughed, taking the sting off his words. “How about we discuss it over lunch?”
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  “I’m meeting Greta. She’s in town and I haven’t seen her in a while.” And they both knew their sister frowned upon any “shop” talk when they got together.

  “Dinner, then?”

  “It’ll have to be a late one. You know how Greta likes to talk.”

  They both laughed. Lunch would no doubt turn out to last at least two hours. Which was fine with Eric. He didn’t get to see his sister as often as he’d like. Since she’d gotten engaged, she’d moved to Oklahoma City, and didn’t come back to Tulsa as often. Her wedding had been postponed when Abra got hurt. Greta refused to get married without her mother. She continually said she’d wait until Abra was out of the coma.

  “Dinner it is. I’ll call you when I get off work.” With that, Ryan ended the call.

  Eric had just started to walk toward the elevator when his phone rang again. Thinking Ryan must have forgotten something, he answered.

  “This is Nurse McPherson from Tulsa General. Dr. Colton?”

  Immediately every nerve ending went on full alert. Phone calls like this usually meant he was needed for trauma surgery. Adrenaline pumping through him, he answered in the affirmative.

  “I’m here, at the nurse’s station on the fifth floor,” he said, heading toward the elevator so he could get to the ER. “What’s the case?”

  “I’m sorry.” She apologized for the misunderstanding. “I should have made myself clear. I’m not calling you to bring you in for surgery. I’m phoning about Jane Doe.”

  Putting the skids on, he frowned. “What about her? I just saw her.”

  “We’re discharging her today.”

  “Discharging her?” he repeated, letting his tone reflect his disbelief, though he’d expected this. “To where?”

  Now the nurse sounded apologetic. “That’s why I called you. I thought you’d like to know. It’s wrong, but you know how it is. There’s nothing medically wrong enough with her to keep her here. Plus, she has no insurance—”

  “She doesn’t even remember who she is,” he exploded quietly, keeping his voice down and remembering that none of this was the nurse’s fault. “Where will she go? What will she do?”

  But he already knew the answer.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re aware of how this works,” the nurse replied. “We can’t hold anyone who isn’t injured or ill. We’ll give her a card with directions to one of the homeless shelters.”

  Homeless shelter. Eric thought of the woman, with her cloudy blue eyes and sweet, sexy smile. Who knew what would happen to a woman who looked like her if they placed her on the streets with no memory?

  He couldn’t let that happen. “Don’t discharge her yet,” he said. “Let me find Dr. Patel. Do you know where she is?” But he hung up before the nurse could reply.

  Striding down toward the emergency department—a place that seemed more familiar than his own town house—Eric refused to consider the hundred reasons why he shouldn’t get involved. After all, it was just a matter of time until her memory returned or Ryan figured out her identity. Once that happened, Eric could return her safely to her home and consider a good deed done. Especially since he knew he couldn’t live with himself if he let a woman who had temporary amnesia be put out into the street to fend for herself.

  If there was more to it than that, he refused to think about it. He had to protect her, no matter what the cost.

  Chapter 2

  When Eric arrived back at the mystery woman’s room, a nurse was with her, messing with the controls on one of the monitors. She now sat on the edge of her bed, her wavy hair tied back in a neat ponytail. Rather than the hospital gown, she wore some ill-fitting clothes that obviously had come from the lost and found. Considering whatever she’d been wearing had probably been cut off her, the nurses hadn’t had a choice, but the sight still offended him.

  When her unusually colored eyes met his, he again felt a sense of connection and attraction.

  “Back again?” she asked, her generous mouth curving in a smile.

  “Hey, there,” he said softly, trying like hell to maintain a professional demeanor under the watchful gaze of her nurse. “I hear you’re well enough to go home.”

  The misery in her expression spoke louder than words. “That’s what they’ve told me. Unfortunately, I have no idea where home might be.” She couldn’t quite disguise the terror in her voice.

  He cleared his throat, pretending not to be affected.

  “Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m here.” He kept his voice light and carefree, as if speaking to a child instead of a beautiful woman. “I’m going to take you to my place. You can stay there until your memory comes back.”

  The nurse gasped, then scowled at him, her silent disapproval making him want to ask her to leave.

  “Your place?” Her frown deepened. “Are we friends, then?”

  “Sort of.” He didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to frighten her. “I brought you in here. I can’t let them send you out into the street with nowhere to go.”

  He looked at the nurse, who still stared at him. “Could you please find Dr. Patel and send her here? She and I need to talk.”

  With a curt nod, the woman left the room. He turned his attention back to the patient—not his patient, he reminded himself. “I promise you’ll be safe with me.”

  Considering him, her gaze serious, she lifted her chin. He was prepared for her to argue. Relief filled him when she simply nodded. “You’re a doctor. I have to believe you wouldn’t take advantage of me.”

  “I won’t.” He took a deep breath, well aware that as far as the rest of the world was concerned, he walked a fine line. Since he took care to be meticulous, he’d be exceedingly careful now. “Are you about ready, MW?”

  One arched brow rose. “MW?”

  “Mystery Woman. I refuse to call you Jane Doe.”

  Regarding him with a bemused expression, she finally nodded. “All right. And what should I call you?”

  He almost said Dr. Colton, but at the last minute changed his mind. “Eric. My name is Eric.”

  “The nurse said Dr. Patel had to sign my discharge papers. Even though you asked the nurse to send her, I don’t have any idea how long that will take.”

  Eric knew, depending on how busy the attending physician might be, that a discharge could take hours. But not with him expediting things. “Let me check on those. Will you wait right here until I get back?”

  A brief flash of humor sparked in her eyes. With a graceful motion, she shoved the wisps of her unruly hair that had escaped her ponytail away from her face. “Sure. After all, where else am I going to go?”

  The nurse had disappeared. Whether to find Dr. Patel or attend to other patients, he didn’t know. After locating the discharge papers at the nurse’s station, he hunted down Dr. Patel, and got them signed. He sidestepped his colleague’s questions, keeping his answers purposely vague.

  Snagging one of the available wheelchairs on the way, he went to collect his new houseguest. When he got to her room, he was surprised to find her standing, clutching the bed frame.

  “Hospital protocol,” he said, gesturing at the wheelchair. “Let me help you get seated.”

  “I can do it.” Waving away his offer, and moving slowly, she made it to the end of the bed and then took the necessary steps to reach the wheelchair. Even in this, her movements were graceful.

  Feeling inordinately proud, he grinned at her. “Are you ready?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she smiled back. “Let’s rock and roll.”

  Bemused and glad she couldn’t see his face, he began pushing the chair. When they reached the lobby, he hailed a cab, bundled her up into it and gave the cabbie his address.

  She glanced around her in curiosity as they headed toward his town house.

&nbs
p; Once there, he had MW sling her arm around his shoulders and supported her on the short sidewalk to his town house, despite her protests that she could walk just fine. He liked the way she felt, all lush and curvy, not a bony toothpick like some of the women he’d dated in the past.

  “Hungover or injured?” a feminine voice drawled. He jumped. His sister, Greta. He’d managed to completely forget their lunch date.

  “Injured,” MW replied, her mild tone at odds with the arch look she gave him. “Though I kept insisting I can do this, Eric here refuses to believe me. I’m sorry, Mrs....?”

  “Miss,” Greta corrected with an inquisitive smile. “I’m Greta. Eric’s sister.”

  His heart sank. Realizing Greta would spin an entirely innocent occurrence into a fantastical story to entertain his family and anyone else who would listen, he hurriedly recounted the events of the night before.

  “So I have no memory,” MW put in when he’d finished. “And your brother was kind enough to offer me a place to stay.”

  Despite her casual attitude, Greta appeared as if she’d been punched in the stomach. He shot her a look, telling her not to say out loud whatever she might be considering saying.

  “Oh,” Greta managed weakly. “That’s nice of him.” The look she gave him back told him he had some explaining to do later.

  He didn’t care. He’d 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.”