The Temptation of Dr. Colton. Karen WhiddonЧитать онлайн книгу.
you, isn’t it?”
Since his entire family all knew Eric lived and breathed for his work, he nodded. “Yes. I was there, I saw the car hit her. I can’t just turn her out on the street with no memory and let her fend for herself. I’ve asked Ryan to personally work on finding out what we can about her.”
Greta’s skeptical expression told him she still wasn’t entirely buying into his story. “Okay. Couldn’t you have turned her over to adult Social Services or something?”
“Not without knowing her identity.”
“What if she’s a criminal? She could be a bank robber or a murderess, for all you know.”
He laughed. “When you hear the sound of hooves, don’t look for zebras. It’s usually a herd of horses.”
“What?”
“It’s an old medical school saying. What seems obvious usually is. MW was just a very unlucky woman. Some idiot was in a hurry and ran a light and hit her. I believe it won’t be long until she’s back to normal. Until then, she’s welcome to stay here.”
Continuing to study him, her hazel eyes dark, Greta finally nodded. “Okay. Then tell me how I can help,” she said.
Relieved that he’d managed to sound convincing, he nodded. “Let’s go grab some lunch—we’ll bring something back for MW—and I’ll tell you.”
“Okay.”
Grinning, he took his sister’s arm. “What are you in the mood for?”
She gave him a second sidelong glance. “We can go to the deli. I’ve been craving a panini.”
They visited the little deli a block from his place. It wasn’t fancy, but the interior felt homey with the blue-and-white-checkered tables. Inside, the smell of cheese and pastrami and marinara made his mouth water. Eric loved their meatball subs. He exchanged a grin with his sister.
Greta ordered a chicken pesto panini, which arrived perfectly cooked and smelling like heaven. If not for his own meatball sub, Eric might have stolen hers. “I’ll have to try that one next time,” he said, even though they both knew he wouldn’t. He always said he’d try something else, but stuck to the same sandwich. How could he resist perfection on a hoagie roll?
All talk ceased while they both dug in, eating fast so they could get back to MW.
When Greta had gotten engaged and she and their mother had started planning her wedding, his sister had been the happiest Eric had ever seen her. Then their house had been burglarized and Abra attacked, and the entire family had been thrown into a tailspin. Greta more than anyone else—as the only daughter, she and Abra had been particularly close.
Now that Abra had been placed in a medically induced coma, Greta had put her entire life on hold. She and Abra had been in the middle of planning the wedding. Despite her fiancé’s pleas, Greta refused to move forward without her mother at her side.
As a result, Greta’s usual zest for life had dimmed somewhat. All of her brothers worried about her and did whatever they could to cheer her up. Feeding her always seemed to work for Eric.
As if she’d read his thoughts, Greta’s gaze studied him. “As far as distractions go, this one’s a biggie,” she commented. “You bringing a strange woman to stay in your town house. I know she’s pretty, but still...”
He didn’t bother to pretend not to understand. “I know,” he answered. “I can hardly fathom it myself. But something about her... I couldn’t let her get put out into the street with no memory.”
“They really do that?”
“We treat a lot of Tulsa’s homeless population,” he said, blotting his mouth with his paper napkin. “There’s a limit to what we can do to assist them, especially if it’s not medical.”
She frowned. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Most people don’t. It’s a sad fact of life in the city.”
“I’d like to help, too,” Greta said. “Is there anything I can do?”
Eric didn’t even have to think before answering. “Are you available this afternoon?” When she nodded, he continued, “Good. Then take her shopping. She needs everything.”
Greta’s eyes widened. She loved shopping. Next to training horses, shopping was her favorite activity. “Seriously?”
“Yes.” Removing a credit card from his wallet, he handed it to her. “Use this. And buy yourself something, too.”
Her eyes lit up, making him smile. Growing up, Greta had always been a tomboy. She hadn’t gotten into what he thought of as girlie things until she’d gotten engaged.
At his smile, she shook her head, though she still accepted the credit card. “What’s your budget?”
“Within reason. There’s no need to take her to fancy department stores. Just get her a few comfortable outfits that fit. A couple of pairs of shoes, pajamas, et cetera. You know better than I do what kind of things a woman needs.”
Her grin turned wicked, warning him she was about to tease.
“What about lingerie?” she drawled, drawing the word out so that it almost became four syllables rather than three.
“Don’t.” He could still shut her down with a glare. Relenting, he softened his tone. “Don’t try to turn this into something it’s not, all right?”
“Sorry.” Clearly unrepentant, she turned his credit card around in her hands, her hot-pink nail polish gleaming. “When you say to buy myself something nice, are you talking about a T-shirt or an entire outfit?”
With pretend annoyance, he sighed loudly. “Fine. An outfit. Just don’t be too extravagant, okay?”
“Yes.” She gave him a fist pump, then quickly tucked his credit card into her purse. “Do you think MW will feel up to shopping this afternoon? I mean, she just got out of the hospital today. I can’t do it tomorrow, because I have to go back to the ranch tonight and say goodbye to everyone. I’m heading home to Oklahoma City in the morning.”
Hearing “home” and “Oklahoma City” in the same sentence sounded weird, though he didn’t say so.
“All we can do is ask her. She should, since the only thing wrong with her is a slight concussion. I’m hoping she’ll be feeling much better when she wakes up from her nap. If not, then find out her size and go shopping without her. She has nothing but the clothes she’s wearing, and those apparently came from the hospital lost and found.”
“That’s awful.” Greta grimaced. “But honestly, she didn’t look in too great of shape. You were practically carrying her to your front door.”
He felt his face heat. “That’s my fault. She insisted she was fine, but I didn’t want to take a chance.”
Narrow eyed, she watched him as if waiting for him to say more. Instead, he concentrated on finishing the last of his meal.
Once every crumb had been devoured, instead of wanting to sit and chat like she normally did, Greta fidgeted.
“I’d like to go back and check on MW,” she finally confessed. “If I’m going to be back at the ranch by suppertime, we need to get started on shopping.”
After getting an extra meatball sub in case MW was hungry, he paid the bill and they headed back to his town house. Usually, Greta enjoyed strolling at a leisurely sauntering pace. Today, she moved with an unusual briskness in her step. Shopping, he thought. A lure she couldn’t resist.
“You know,” Greta mused on the walk back, “I can finally see why you like living downtown so much.”
He stared. For her entire life, his sister had loudly professed her love of the country to anyone who’d