Hero by Nature

by Wilkins, Gina

  From the angle at which she was lying on her couch, Autumn could see Jeff quite clearly. She watched his eyes narrow at the man who opened Autumn’s door. “Are you here again, Webb? I think you and I are going to have to talk.”

  Autumn blinked at the very male tone and lifted her head from the pillow Webb had insisted on fetching for her a few minutes earlier. It had been a hellish day. All she needed now was for Jeff, of all people, to turn macho on her. Though she’d talked to him several times on the telephone, this was the first time she’d seen him since their Valentine’s Day date, a night that had been pure magic from dinner to the hours of lovemaking that had followed. Usually he called before coming over. Wouldn’t you know he’d drop by unexpectedly on this of all evenings? she thought ruefully.

  “Why don’t we save it for another time?” Webb said smoothly, his tone acknowledging the challenge in the other man’s voice. “Autumn’s been hurt, and I—”

  “What?” Jeff pushed abruptly past Webb to swiftly cross the room and drop to his knees beside the couch. “Autumn, are you all right? What happened?”

  “Jeff, it’s nothing. Really. Just a stupid little accident.” She stopped with a sigh as she realized that she was wasting her breath. Jeff had gone into doctor mode, already examining the ugly bruise on her forehead and the ragged, three-inch-long cut on her left forearm that had been neatly closed by a half-dozen or so stitches. “Jeff, I’ve seen a doctor,” she protested when he automatically checked her pupils. “Webb took me to the emergency room at Tampa General. I don’t have a concussion.”

  “What happened?” he repeated, and she was amazed to realize that he’d gone pale beneath his tan.

  She attempted a light, soothing tone. “I bumped my head and cut my arm at work this afternoon. It wasn’t serious, so don’t—”

  “She almost killed herself,” Webb broke in curtly, dropping into a chair and watching the couple in front of him with interest. “If her reflexes weren’t so fast, she would have been at least badly injured.”

  Thoroughly irritated, particularly when she noted that Jeff’s eyes had widened considerably, Autumn glared at Webb. “Shut up, Webb, and let me tell him.”

  Ignoring Autumn, Jeff turned to Webb. “No, you tell me. What happened?” he asked for the third time, growing visibly less patient by the moment.

  Paying no attention to Autumn’s attempt to interrupt, Webb explained succinctly. “She was running conduit in the mall we’re working on, standing on scaffolding twenty feet off the floor. She needed to reach out a little farther than her safety belt would allow her to go, so she unsnapped it.” He gave Autumn a stern glance and continued. “She turned too quickly, bumped her head on a metal beam and lost her balance, cutting her arm on an air-conditioning duct when she reached out to grab something to hold on to. She managed to catch herself just as one of the guys got to her to help her down, but she came so damn close to falling that my heart stopped.”

  “My God.” Jeff inhaled sharply and rested his forehead against Autumn’s for a moment before raising his head to look at her intently. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m sure,” she answered steadily, deciding not to mention that she was in a great deal of pain from her arm and her pounding head. The shot she’d been given earlier was wearing off, and her arm felt as if it was on fire.

  She should have known she couldn’t fool a doctor—this doctor, in particular. His blue eyes narrowed, and she suspected that he was taking complete inventory of the circles under her eyes, her pallor and the slight sheen of moisture on her forehead. “What did they give you for pain?” he demanded.

  Again Webb answered. “The pain medication is on the coffee table. She refused to take it when I tried to give it to her a few minutes ago.”

  “Webb, would you go home?” Autumn exploded wrathfully, her small tantrum sending painful fireworks off in her head. “Thank you for everything, but please go away.”

  With a deep, soulful sigh Webb unfolded himself from his chair and rose, crossing the room to drop a light kiss on Autumn’s forehead. “Okay, I’m going. You’ve got a genuine doctor here to take care of you now, so I can leave with a clear conscience. Don’t let me see you at work until at least Monday, you hear?”

  “I hear,” Autumn muttered, her head moving restlessly on the pillow. Jeff had disappeared into her kitchen, quite probably after a glass of water. It seemed she’d be taking the pain pills after all. Why wouldn’t everyone go away and let her die in peace? she bemoaned silently as Webb let himself out the front door.

  “Not a very gracious patient, are you, honey?” Jeff’s voice was amused as he sat carefully on the edge of the couch at her side.

  “No, I’m not a gracious patient,” Autumn grumbled, glaring at him. “I’m ill-tempered and foul-mouthed and horrible. I refuse to do what anyone tells me, and I don’t want those pills because they’ll make me loopy and I hate being that way. And I don’t like being called honey!”

  To her surprise, Jeff laughed softly and leaned over to place a soft kiss on her sullen mouth. “Trying to scare me away, Autumn?”

  “Yes,” she answered recklessly. “If you had any sense at all, you’d admit that I’m totally wrong for you, take to your heels and never see me again.”

  “And if you had any sense at all, you’d realize that you are exactly right for me. I’m not going anywhere. But I will stop calling you honey. I didn’t know you disliked it. You should have told me long before this.”

  She bit her lip, closing her eyes and trying to fight down a surge of disappointment at the thought of never hearing him call her honey again. Lord, what was the matter with her?

  “Take the pills, Autumn.”

  “Not now, Jeff. I’ll take them later.”

  “Now, Autumn.”

  Her eyes flew open at his tone. When and how had sweet, smiling young Dr. Bradford learned to inject pure steel into his voice? His gaze met hers, and her mouth opened automatically to take the small pills he was holding to her lips.

  “That was sneaky and underhanded,” she complained when she’d swallowed the pills with a sip of the water he’d brought her.

  “What was?” The steel was gone now, replaced by the familiar gentle amusement.

  “I didn’t know that you could sound like that.”

  “It comes in handy with stubborn patients.” He set the glass on the coffee table and brushed a stray curl away from her forehead. “You’ll feel better in a few minutes. You have to expect pain from a cut like this, but there’s no need to suffer unnecessarily.”

  “So you think I’m acting like one of your patients, do you? Are you calling me a child?”

  Jeff chuckled. “You’re determined to pick a fight, aren’t you, hon—uh, Autumn? It won’t work, you know.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I thought you and Webb understood that. So how come you’ve both been treating me like a helpless airhead?”

  “Autumn, we care about you and you’re hurt. It has nothing to do with your capability or intelligence. Now why don’t you come down off that feminist soapbox and admit that you’d do the same for Webb—or me, I hope—if the tables were turned. You would, wouldn’t you?”

  Autumn immediately had a mental picture of Jeff hurt and in pain, and she admitted to herself that she would, indeed, do whatever she could to help him. Webb, too, she added in a quick afterthought. And, dammit, she was acting like a whining child. She sighed again and looked apologetically up at him. “Yes, I would. I’m sorry I’ve been so grouchy.”

  “S’okay. I’m a lousy patient myself. All doctors are, you know.”

  Slowly relaxing, she settled more comfortably against the pillow. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

  “I know. I was going to call first, but I couldn’t wait that long. I wanted to see you.”

  “As you can see, I’m not very good company tonight.”

  “That’s okay. Just lie back an
d let me take care of you. Are you hungry? Would you like for me to make you a bowl of soup?”

  “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I’m not very hungry.”

  “Actually, I am. I’ll make us a light supper, and maybe you can eat just a little.”

  “Jeff, really, you don’t have to stay.”

  “I know I don’t have to stay,” he answered gently. “But I want to. Do you honestly want me to leave?”

  She should say yes. She didn’t like being taken care of, as he well knew. If she asked, he would leave and she would be alone. Wishing he were still there. “No,” she whispered reluctantly. “I don’t want you to leave. Not…if you really want to stay for a while.”

  He kissed her, not quite as gently as before, though she sensed that he was exerting quite a bit of restraint to hold back even that much. “Thank you,” he told her, his voice rough. “I’ll go make that soup now.”

  She closed her eyes wearily, listening to him moving around in the other room, his deep voice speaking softly to Babs. And she was suddenly fiercely glad that he was there, that her cross mood hadn’t driven him away. Still very much aware of his presence, she allowed herself to drift into sleep.

  JEFF SWALLOWED the last bite of the sandwich he’d made to go with his soup and reached for his canned cola, his eyes never leaving Autumn’s face. She was sleeping restlessly, obviously in pain despite the pills he’d insisted she take. She’d be more comfortable in bed, he decided, setting the can on a coaster and rising to carry his soup bowl into the kitchen. She was liable to bite his head off if she woke up and found him tucking her in, but the thought didn’t particularly disturb him. He grinned, thinking of her obvious surprise that her irritability hadn’t sent him running earlier. How many men had she frightened away with her fiery temper? And didn’t she know by now that he wasn’t intimidated by it?

  So cautious, he thought, kneeling at her side again and pressing the lightest of kisses to her moist forehead. So wary. So terribly afraid of getting involved or admitting that she might occasionally need someone. Someday, he vowed as he slipped his arms beneath her to lift her, she was going to freely admit that she needed someone. Him.

  She didn’t rouse when he carried her into the bedroom. He couldn’t help comparing this time to the first night he’d made love to her, when she’d snuggled into his shoulder—after making sure that he knew she was doing so by her choice—and given herself up to passion. He felt his body hardening in reaction to the breathtaking memories and regretfully shook his head. There would be no such pleasure on this night. But he intended to sleep beside her, anyway. There was no way he was leaving her alone tonight.

  He rummaged in her dresser drawers, looking for something more comfortable for sleeping than the shirt and jeans she was wearing. His brow lifted with interest when he came across a slinky black satin-and-lace nightgown among the more practical T-shirts. Not Autumn’s usual style, he thought, an unexpected surge of jealousy rippling through him for the second time that evening. He hadn’t liked having Autumn’s door opened by Webb, but he absolutely hated the idea of Autumn’s wearing this filmy garment for anyone but him. Then his eye caught the tag hanging from the back of the nightgown and he relaxed. She’d never worn it.

  Smiling broadly, he folded the gown back into the drawer and pulled out an oversized white T-shirt. She would wear the black gown for him soon, but he wanted her fully conscious when he took it off her, he thought cockily.

  He undressed her with great care, conscious of the tenderness that almost overwhelmed him at taking care of her. He was comfortable, as many men were not, with the gentle, nurturing side of himself, the side that had led him into pediatric medicine and showed itself every day in his work. But there was a difference in these feelings for Autumn. This was a tenderness mixed with respect, admiration, amusement, passion. Love. He’d never been in love before. He’d been waiting for Autumn, he thought whimsically, unable to resist looking at her for a moment before covering her lovely body with the soft T-shirt.

  He tucked her under the covers, arranging her injured arm across her stomach. He winced at the angry red swelling around the stitches, his insides knotting as he pictured the accident. She could so easily have been killed or seriously injured. He didn’t like the idea of her working in such a risky field. Construction workers were so often killed in falls or other work-related accidents. He wished…

  No. Jeff sat quietly on the side of the bed, looking down at the woman he loved. She enjoyed her job, the challenges of working with her hands, just as he enjoyed his vocation. If she’d originally chosen to be an electrician as a form of rebellion against traditional roles, she’d stayed with it because she liked it. And he wouldn’t make the mistake of trying to change her. There would be no faster way to lose her.

  Besides, as he’d assured her repeatedly, he didn’t want to change her. He loved her. If only he could make her believe him.

  She didn’t even stir when he kissed her. “I love you,” he murmured, willing the words into her dreams. And then he stood, clearing his throat of emotion. “Well, Babs,” he addressed the tiny poodle looking expectantly up at him from the floor. “Want to watch some TV?”

  10

  AUTUMN STIRRED, frowned and slowly opened her eyes. She had no idea what time it was. For that matter, she had no idea how she’d ended up in her bed when she distinctly remembered falling asleep on the couch.

  She moved her injured arm and winced. Jeff. Lifting her head, she could hear the muted sound of the television coming from the other room. He hadn’t left.

  She dropped her head back down and moaned. God, she felt like an idiot. Sure, accidents like that happened every day, but not usually to her—not since she’d been a daredevil tomboy tumbling from one scrape into another. She was always so careful, determined that no one could accuse her of being unqualified for her job.

  Her mouth tasted awful. She was hungry. And she needed to use the bathroom. She forced herself upright, flinching at the protest from jarred, sore muscles. She blinked when she realized that she was wearing only a white sleep shirt over her bikini panties. Jeff had undressed her, she realized, oddly embarrassed that he’d seen her so vulnerable without her knowledge. Her next thought was a self-reproachful question. How could she have slept through that?

  A few minutes later she stood in the doorway to the bedroom and looked at the man sprawled comfortably on her couch watching TV with her dog curled on his knee. She’d run a brush through her hair in the bathroom, but she hadn’t wanted to attempt putting on her robe over the sore, swollen arm. She couldn’t help being a bit self-conscious standing in front of him in the thin, midthigh-length cotton shirt, even though she knew he’d recently seen her in much less. As she had him.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked, watching her closely as she crossed the room to sit beside him.

  “Better, I guess,” she admitted. “My head doesn’t hurt as badly now. I just feel so stupid.”

  He ran his knuckles lightly down her cheek. “Don’t, Autumn. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.” He held out the hand he’d touched her with, displaying a thin white scar across the palm—a scar she’d noticed with curiosity but had never gotten around to asking him about. “I did that cleaning a fish after a fishing trip with Julian last summer. Julian yelled at me the whole time he was sewing me up. My patients all made fun of me for having to take care of them with a bandage on my hand because I’d cut myself with a knife. Pam told me I couldn’t be trusted with anything sharp and threatened to take my medical bag away from me.”

  Autumn chuckled despite herself. “Gave you a hard time, did they?”

  “Did they ever. Will the guys at work tease you when you go back?”

  She grimaced. “My friends will. Those few who don’t believe a woman should be an electrician will use this as evidence of their sexist arguments.”

  “You didn’t hurt yourself because you’re a woman,” Jeff stated flatly. “You hurt yourself because you were
momentarily careless. I doubt there’s one of them who hasn’t done something similar at one time or another.”

  Autumn tilted her head and smiled at him. “Somehow I wasn’t expecting this from you.”

  “Oh?” He looked surprised. “What were you expecting?”

  “A lecture about how dangerous my work is,” she answered promptly. “Maybe a tactful suggestion that I go into another line.”

  Wearing his most innocent expression and fully determined that she’d never know he’d briefly wished that very thing, Jeff shook his head reproachfully. “You should have known better.”

  “Mmm. Well, anyway, you’ve almost made up for coming across like a dictator about the pain pills.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, it’s time for another dose. You slept for four hours.”

  “Jeff…” she wailed.

  “Don’t make me spoil your decent mood by having to play the dictator again,” Jeff warned her with a smile. “That last dose will be wearing off any time now, and you’ll be in pain again. There’s no need for that.”

  “I hate taking drugs,” she muttered, shifting the arm that was already beginning to throb, to her annoyance.

  “This is just a mild painkiller,” he answered soothingly. “You’ll have to take them tomorrow, but after that you won’t need them. Believe me, honey, I wouldn’t insist that you take them if I thought they were bad for you. Are you hungry? Want me to warm up some soup?”

  “I am hungry,” she admitted, aware of the endearment and the warm glow that accompanied it. She spoke quickly. “And I’m thirsty. But I can get it.”

  “Take one step toward that kitchen and I’ll really show you macho,” Jeff told her humorously. “I’ll bring you a tray. You can talk to Babs while I’m getting it. She’s been worried about you.” He deposited the drowsy dog on the couch beside Autumn and stood. He paused in the doorway to the kitchen, looking back apologetically. “Oh, I called you honey again, didn’t I? Sorry, it just slipped out.”