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Sullivan, Sandy - Unexpected Lovers [Between the Sheets 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Page 2

by Unexpected Lovers (lit)


  “How are you doing?” he asked as the lights and sirens came on and they pulled out onto the road.

  With a forced exhale, she answered, “Okay.”

  “You don’t sound okay.” He bent over her arm and stuck her with another needle.

  “That hurts.”

  “Sorry, darlin’. I have to start an IV so I can get some fluids in you. I’m sure you’re a bit dehydrated.”

  She licked her lips, and his gaze narrowed as it fixed on her mouth before it returned to her arm and his task.

  Does he realize the endearments that keep slipping out?

  “We’ll be at the helicopter shortly, and they’ll take it from there. Do you need something else for pain?”

  Reaching over his head, he grabbed a plastic bag and ripped it open with his teeth.

  “Helicopter?”

  “Yep. Quickest way to get you to Flagstaff.”

  “I hate to fly.”

  A warm chuckle burst from his lips, and his gaze focused on her face again. “Don’t have much choice in the matter, sweetheart. You need a doctor and soon.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “What?”

  “Sweetheart and darlin’.”

  Broad shoulders lifted in a shrug, bringing her vision to the muscles of his chest as they rippled and bunched under his shirt. “Sorry. Habit, I guess. You’re a pretty woman. What can I say?”

  “And you’re a major flirt, Ryan.”

  He chuckled and said, “Sue me.”

  “What’s your last name?”

  “Why?”

  “Curiosity. You look like you might be Irish with those hazel eyes.”

  “Last name’s O’Rourke.” He messed with something off to his left above her head that she couldn’t see. “What’s yours?”

  “Scott.”

  “Nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So what are you doing hiking one of the roughest trails in the canyon by yourself, Whit?”

  “I wasn’t by myself.”

  “No? I didn’t see anyone else around.”

  “He left.”

  “He?”

  “Yeah. My husband.” She didn’t know why, but she had the incredible urge to share with Ryan what Eric had done. Tears slipped from the corner of her eyes and into her hair.

  “Don’t cry.”

  “I’ve been married to Eric for five years.”

  “Didn’t mean to pry.” He tenderly wiped the tear from her cheek.

  “He tried to hurt me. We’ve been having problems, but I never thought he’d try this.”

  His shocked expression met hers, and she had to explain. Ryan would understand. For some reason, she knew he would. “He tried to kill me for insurance money.”

  “You’re serious?”

  She frowned when irritation at his question zinged down her back. “I didn’t throw myself down the damned canyon, Ryan.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like I didn’t believe you. I think it’s incredible that someone would do that, especially to a nice girl like you.”

  “Yeah, well, money talks in certain circles.”

  The whirl of the helicopter blades sounded in the distance when the ambulance came to a stop.

  “Ryan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you come with me?”

  “I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”

  “Thanks.”

  * * * *

  I can’t believe what I just heard. Someone tried to kill her? Damn! He frowned when an unexpected protective feeling surged through his chest. How could anyone want to hurt a woman? That’s insane. Hurting a woman is a coward’s way of handling things.

  “Hey man,” the pilot said, approaching the gurney as they wheeled her toward the still-whirling helicopter. “Priority?”

  “Yeah, let’s move.”

  The pilot opened the back, and they slid her inside. Ryan climbed in beside her, and the pilot secured the doors. He slipped on his flight helmet and adjusted the microphone.

  “Tell me how you feel, Whit.”

  She opened her baby blues, and his heart clenched. Her brown hair lay in wet, sticky tendrils on her forehead, but her eyes held him spellbound. Dirt streaked across her face, and he fought the urge to brush the hair back and stroke her cheek. No getting that close to the patient, Ryan. Bad idea.

  “I hurt,” Whitney said as her face scrunched in pain.

  “Where?” he asked.

  “My hip and my back mostly.”

  “Let me give you something else then.”

  “How long before we get to the hospital.”

  “Not long.”

  Her eyes closed again, and she whispered, “Good.”

  I want to help her so bad. How could anyone want to hurt her?

  “Chopper One to Flagstaff ER,” he called into the headset with a push of his finger on the side of the helmet.

  “This is Flagstaff. Go Chopper One.”

  “Chopper One. One female patient, approximately late twenties, priority one.”

  “Twenty-eight,” she murmured, without opening her eyes.

  He smiled and shook his head.

  “Vital signs are stable. Assessment indicates possible head, back, chest and neck trauma although patient alert and oriented times four. Patient on backboard with head and neck stabilized. No active bleeding at this time. Patient able to move lower extremities minimally. Patient indicates pain to left hip and lumbar. Probable fracture left femur with obvious deformity noted. IV established with normal saline bolus infusing. Morphine four milligrams given. Permission to give Dilaudid two milligrams intravenous push.”

  “Affirmative. Dilaudid two milligrams intravenous,” replied a familiar voice on the other end of the headset.

  Good. Brett’s there today.

  Brett Novak was the best emergency room physician Ryan knew, even if they were cousins. Most people confused the two of them as siblings since their mothers were identical twins. With similar facial features, it wasn’t hard to fathom why anyone who didn’t know them figured they were brothers, but the biggest difference was the color of their eyes. While Ryan’s were the distinctive hazel color of his mother, Brett had the brown eyes of his father’s side of the family, the Novak’s out of Tennessee.

  “Copy. ETA ten minutes.”

  “Copy Chopper One. See you in a few, Ryan.”

  “Chopper One out.”

  He reached to his right and grabbed the pain medication to give her, pushed the air out of the syringe, and hooked it to the tube in her arm. Glancing quickly at her face, the penetrating blue eyes sucked him in again.

  “What are you giving me?”

  “Dilaudid. It’s the best pain medication available.”

  “How long have you been a paramedic?”

  “Five years.”

  The helicopter shifted slightly, and he knew they were getting close to the landing pad at the hospital.

  “How about you? What do you do?”

  A frown wrinkled the skin between her eyebrows. “I’m a little rich bitch according to Eric.”

  “Eric’s an asshole.”

  The watery chuckle that burst from her lips had him smiling and made his heart squeeze.

  “I like you, Ryan.”

  Within moments, the helicopter landed with a jarring jolt, and the rear doors whipped open. Two sets of hands grabbed the backboard and slid her onto the gurney as Ryan slipped out from behind it.

  The technicians started to push her toward the entrance to the hospital, but stopped when she said, “Wait. Ryan?”

  He moved to her side and grasped her fingers, squeezing lightly. “I’m right behind you, Whit.”

  “Okay.”

  Large glass doors swung open when they approached, and within moments of entering the trauma bay, people surrounded her, almost blocking her from his view.

  “Hey, Ryan.”

  “Brett,” he answered with a nod, never taking his eyes off Whitn
ey’s feet.

  “Busy day?”

  “Not until now.”

  “Any problem en route?” Brett asked as they moved toward Whitney together.

  “No. Gave her the Dilaudid and she did well.”

  “Okay, people. We’ve got work to do.” Brett started directing people like a drill sergeant, and Ryan shook his head and smiled. His cousin fired off orders to the nurses, lab people, and radiology technicians in short order. He knew Brett would take good care of Whitney.

  A moment later, a small terrified voice met his ear. “Ryan?”

  He moved to her side and grasped her fingers. “I’m right here. You’ll be fine. You’ve got one of the best emergency room doctors working on you.”

  “Oh yeah? Know him well, do you?”

  “You could say that.”

  She glanced to her other side.

  “Hi. What’s your name?” Brett asked and Ryan knew he was trying to assess her mental status.

  “Whitney Scott.”

  “Do you know what today is?”

  A frown wrinkled the skin between her eyebrows. “Mmm…June tenth.”

  “What year?”

  “Two-thousand-ten.”

  “Well, Whitney, my name is Doctor Novak.”

  Her gaze moved from Ryan to Brett and back, and the frown returned. Confusion was bright in her gaze.

  “It’s okay to be confused, Whit. Everyone is. This is Brett Novak. He’s my cousin.”

  “Damn! You two look so much alike. Same dark hair. Different eyes, though.”

  Both men chuckled, and Brett said, “Yeah. We get that a lot.” Brett’s hands moved over her arms and then her abdomen, pushing softly as he asked if she hurt. “Whitney, we are going to be doing a bunch of tests on you. Blood work, x-rays, and a CAT scan at least. How’s your pain?”

  “Not bad right now. Ryan made sure of that.”

  Brett glanced in his direction when he said, “Yeah, he’s a pretty good guy.”

  “No bias there, huh?”

  A warm chuckle left his full lips when he looked down at her. “Not a bit. Do you hurt anywhere else?”

  “My chest hurts a little.”

  “Where?”

  “My left?”

  “Does it hurt worse with a deep breath?”

  After a quick inhale, she said, “Not really.”

  “We’re going to step out, and the nurses are going to get you undressed, put a catheter in, and get the tests ordered. I’ll be back to check on you shortly.”

  “Ryan?” she asked, giving him a pitiful look.

  “I won’t be far.” He squeezed her hand, and she nodded. Releasing her fingers, he stepped away from the gurney and followed Brett out to the desk.

  “Grandview Trail, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What was she doing out there alone?”

  “She wasn’t. Her husband made the trek with her. They weren’t too far down the trail, but enough that it made it interesting getting to her.”

  Brett’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “So where’s he now?”

  Ryan raked his fingers through his hair. “Damned if I know, but if I get my hands on him, I’ll kill him.”

  “Really? Why?” Brett asked, surprise evident on his face.

  “From what she told me, he left her out there to die.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  “No.”

  “Be careful, cousin. You don’t want to get involved. Sounds like one hell of a mess.”

  “Why the hell not, Brett? Obviously someone needs to help her. What if the asshole comes back to finish things once he finds out he didn’t succeed?”

  “Doc? You better get in here!” the nurse yelled from behind the curtain where Whitney lay. “She doesn’t look good.”

  “Shit!” Both he and Brett rushed behind the curtain just as the monitor over Whitney’s head starting making an erratic beeping sound.

  Chapter Two

  “Get the code cart, now!” Brett yelled.

  “What’s going on?” Ryan asked, rushing to Whitney’s side.

  “Damn it!” Brett quickly assessed her again. “How the hell did I miss that?” he grumbled quietly, noticing the neck vein distention. “I need a sixteen gauge needle and a large syringe.”

  “Brett?”

  “She’s probably in cardiac tamponade. I need to try to aspirate fluid from around her heart.” His gaze shot over to the nurses rushing around him as sweat tickled down his back. She could die from this if he didn’t intervene now. One nurse handed him the needle, and they all prayed.

  Working quickly, he inserted it close to her chest wall, inward and upward, applying constant suction until blood rushed back into the syringe. A collective heavy sigh surrounded the group when the beeping of the heart monitor slowed and became more regular.

  “Get a cardiologist down here immediately.”

  “Damn, that was close,” Ryan said when their gaze met.

  “Yeah, too close.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “I need those x-rays and scan.”

  “We’re taking her now, doc,” the technician said from the head of the bed.

  “Good. Jackie, go with her. If anything should change, call me immediately.”

  “No problem, Doctor Novak,” she answered, moving with the gurney as they headed out of the department.

  He moved out to the desk and took a seat in the chair in front of his computer. A sigh rushed from between his lips as he tipped the chair back.

  “Brett?” Ryan asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve got to get back. Keep me updated on how she is, okay? If she regains consciousness, make sure she knows I’ll be back.”

  The look in Ryan’s eyes concerned Brett. He’d never seen his cousin this worried about anyone outside of the immediate family. “All right. I’ll call you later.”

  “Thanks.” Ryan nodded and turned toward the ambulance bay.

  The automatic glass moved when he got close to it and headed outside to meet the ambulance while Brett watched with a heavy heart. With a quick shake of his head, Brett went back to work, hoping the woman who had already seemed to have snagged his reluctant-to-get-involved cousin by the balls wouldn’t hurt him in the process.

  * * * *

  Whitney’s chest burned with each breath as she struggled to figure out where she was and what had happened. The steady beeping near her head annoyed her with its droning, constant tone. Her eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds each when she tried to open them, almost like dirt and grit scratched under both lids.

  A soft moan rumbled in her chest and bubbled out from her lips when she struggled with consciousness.

  “Whitney?”

  Not recognizing the voice near her ear, she frowned and tried to focus.

  “Whitney, open your eyes.”

  Struggling against the grit behind her eyelids, she slowly lifted them.

  “Doctor Novak?”

  “Yeah. How do you feel?”

  “Like shit.”

  He chuckled warmly, and her heart constricted at the sound. Why would that be? I hardly know the man.

  “Call me Brett. You’ve had a rough couple of days.”

  “Days?”

  “Yes. You’ve been here at the hospital two days now.”

  “Damn,” she whispered, not liking the weak sound of her voice. “What happened? The last thing I remember, I was in the emergency room.”

  “You went into what we call cardiac tamponade. Basically, it means you had fluid around your heart from the trauma of the fall. We had to aspirate it.”

  “No wonder my chest burns.”

  Searching the room for a moment with her gaze, she hoped Ryan would be nearby, but disappointment clouded her mind when she didn’t spot him.

  Why should he? He was just the rescuer. It’s not like he cares.

  “Ryan’s not here at the moment, but he’ll be back in a few minutes. He went to get coffee.”


  Am I that predictable?

  A frown pulled down the corners of his mouth when he said, “He’s been here off and on since you were brought upstairs.”

  “You don’t like that idea for some reason,” she whispered, wanting to know why Brett seemed upset at the idea of Ryan visiting her.

  He cocked a questioning eyebrow. “It’s not that.”

  She shifted in the bed and moaned softly at the pain that shot through her like a lightning bolt. “Then what? Your eyes give you away, Brett.”

  “I don’t want to see Ryan hurt, and I’m afraid getting involved with you is going to do that to him.”

  “Why?”

  “He told me about how your husband left you in the canyon.”

  “Oh.” Focusing on the wall on the other side of the room, she asked, “Do you two share everything?”

  “Almost. We’re very close.”

  The door swung open, and when she turned her head, her heart slammed against her ribs as Ryan strolled through the door, two large cups of coffee in his hands.

  “You’re awake.”

  “Yeah,” she murmured, hating how she’d come to depend on his presence and how safe he made her feel in such a short time. “Is one of those for me? I’m dying here.”

  The two men chuckled, and Ryan said, “Sorry, darlin’. I imagine now that you’re awake, it’s going to be clear liquids for a day or two.”

  Her toes curled at the endearment. “How about caffeine intravenously?”

  “No can do,” Brett replied.

  “Damn,” she whispered.

  Ryan handed the second cup to Brett and took a seat by the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  She looked at Brett and then back to Ryan.

  “What?”

  “I think I just had this conversation with your cousin.”

  “So share.”

  “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. My chest burns and my leg is killing me.”

  “Did Brett fill you in on what happened?” Ryan asked, taking her hand in his.

  With a quick glance at where he’d entwined their fingers, she pulled her hand back and said, “Yeah.” With a quick rush of air from between her lips, she shifted her gaze to the ceiling above, trying desperately to calm the rushing in her ears. “So, when can I go home?”

 

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