Lori Wilde - Racing Against the Clock

“How did you accomplish that feat?”

“I told them I would be responsible for your bill.”

“Dr. Fresno,” she protested, “I can’t allow you to do that.”

He raised his palms. “Shhh. I have more money than I know what to do with. We’ll discuss it later. Right now you need a warm bath, a hot meal and a good night’s sleep. Hopefully by morning your memory will have returned and we can piece together what happened to you.”

“Why would you do this for me?” she asked. “I’m a stranger to you.”

“I’m curious about your condition. About you.”

She wasn’t buying it. There was something more. Mere curiosity didn’t cause a man to open his home to someone he did not know.

“What’s the real reason?” she asked.

He looked at her for a long moment and she saw a myriad of emotions play across his face. Sorrow, loss, sadness, regret. By helping her, was he assuaging something inside of him? A long ago guilt? A bad choice made? A wrong turn taken? Was he looking for redemption? Who was she to deny him his salvation?

“A stranger helped me once when I was in deep trouble,” he said quietly. She could tell by the way he held himself that the memory of his troubles still haunted him. “I vowed that I would never turn my back on someone in need. And from my vantage point, you’re looking pretty needy. Besides, you remind me of someone I once knew.”

His voice caught and Hannah realized then he wasn’t doing this so much for her or even for his own good karma, but for the person that brought the gravelly, emotional sound into his voice. She shouldn’t fight his generosity. She should just accept it as a gift. Why was it so difficult for her to receive help?

Hannah swallowed hard. “I have trouble taking assistance from people I don’t know.”

“Ah, trust issues.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered.

“I understand. You’re under no obligation to me.” The look on his face was one of utter compassion. He had no ulterior motives. He was simply a nice guy. Why did she have so much trouble accepting that?

Because no one has ever been kind to you without an ulterior motive.

“What about the police?”

“I told them you weren’t available for an interview until tomorrow morning.”

“What happens tomorrow when they find out I’m not here?”

“We’ll deal with that tomorrow.”

A lump formed in Hannah’s throat. She couldn’t believe the kindness of this good doctor. She didn’t deserve to be treated so well, particularly since she was lying to him.

In that moment, Hannah experienced a premonition, a spooky sensation that sent goose flesh flying up her arms. By agreeing to go off with Dr. Tyler Fresno and evading the police, was she possibly making the gravest mistake of all?

“Are you hungry?” Tyler asked as they left the hospital in his silver BMW.

It was either early or late, depending upon your definition. The parking lot lay half-empty. The sky was dark and the street lamps exuded a fuzzy golden glow. Hannah had crashed her car around dusk, now it was after midnight.

“Famished,” she admitted and pressed a palm to her belly. She hadn’t eaten all day. Between the terror of fleeing Daycon’s men, living through a smashup and experiencing a miraculous healing, she was ready for a down-to-earth activity like supper.

Besides, eating might take her mind of this unexpected twist of sexual desire building at a brushfire pace between she and the good doctor. Being in the car alone with him was causing her to think some very unseemly thoughts. She kept getting a flash of what he might taste like. Warm and sweet, she decided. And deliciously sinful. Like Death By Chocolate dessert.

You’re just famished. Knock off the fantasy.

“How are you feeling otherwise?” Tyler fretted. “No nausea, no headaches, no dizziness?”

“I’m fine except I could eat a hippopotamus.”

“How about a hamburger instead?” He chuckled and pulled through a drive-through fast-food joint.

“Is this your idea of healthy eating, Doctor?” she teased, surprised at her own levity. The truth was, she felt good. Damned good. Happy to be alive and, if she dared to confess it, excited. For the first time since fleeing Daycon’s burned-out laboratories, Hannah had hope.

“Normally,” Tyler said, “I recommend healthier fare. But considering what you’ve been through you need the protein and a little fat won’t hurt you, either.”

She was usually conscientious about what she ate, preferring fruits and vegetables to meat and bread but her mouth watered at the thought of a thick, juicy hamburger. Sometimes junk food was exactly what the doctor ordered.

And what a doctor he was! Tall and lean but muscular. With a dark, brooding quality beneath his professional demeanor. A quality that issued a call to her own sense of isolation.

Stop this, Hannah. Stop it right now. No good can come of your sudden infatuation.

She knew better, and yet she could not stop sending him surreptitious glances over the rim of her thick chocolate milk shake.

Within minutes they were traveling south outside of Houston, the comforting smell of mustard and onions filling the car. After she had polished off the hamburger and the milk shake, she wiped her hands on a paper napkin, sighed her pleasure and leaned back against the leather seat.

What elegance. What style. The car perfectly fit the man. She must have drifted off because the next thing she knew, Tyler was pulling the BMW into the driveway of a dark, silent beach house.

There was no light, save for the full moon overhead and the illumination from the headlight beams. Sitting up, Hannah rubbed her eyes and rolled down the window. The scent of salt air mingled with the sound of the ocean lapping against the shore.

“This is it,” he said, coming around to help her out.

Her body had grown stiff during the hour-long drive from the city to the Gulf of Mexico. Stretching, Hannah suppressed a yawn.

Tyler reached to take her arm but she tensed and rejected his extended hand. He shrugged nonchalantly, but evidently she’d wounded his pride. She wanted to tell him it was nothing personal but how could she explain that she didn’t like to be touched? Particularly by strangers.

Growing up without much physical affection had caused her to crave a larger than average personal space. She needed distance. Her parents had taught her it was rude and presumptuous to press herself upon people. As a result, she often felt awkward whenever someone touched her. She didn’t even care to shake hands.

As for kissing, well, that had proven to be a nightmare the few times she’d tried it. Hannah supposed her less than enthusiastic response to swapping spit was the main reason she’d had a string of first dates but never a steady boyfriend.

And yet, some small part of her desperately wanted Dr. Fresno to kiss her.

She knew she was an oddball. Her parents’ negative view of romantic love had colored her outlook. Doctors Eric and Beverly Zachary had been friends and colleagues and little more. They had prided themselves on avoiding the trap of useless emotions in favor of a marriage based on mutual respect. They had even encouraged Hannah to make an emotionless match herself. When they had met Marcus Halpren, they had been hopeful she would choose him as her life mate. He had an IQ of two hundred and ten, and even though Marcus had been interested in her, Hannah had been unable to bring herself to ruin their friendship with a business merger. Although she liked and respected her colleague, she had never been attracted to him. A passionless marriage might have been enough for her parents. It wasn’t enough for her. She’d rather remain single.