Tempt Me - By Shiloh Walker Page 0,37

He pressed his lips to her neck and sighed. “It’s not enough.”

The paramedic’s gaze met his—a look passed between them. No, a broken nose wasn’t enough, not nearly.

“What? No...oh, no...” Rocki came up off the table, shrugging away Cole’s hands, ignoring the look on the doctor’s face, ignoring just about everything except for one thing.

The door. The door was all that mattered. Because she had to get out of here. He’d just said surgery. She’d been prepared for x-rays and maybe one shot while they set the bones. Not surgery.

“Calm down, Rocki...” Cole caught her around the waist, one gentle hand stroking her hair back. Through the thin cotton of the T-shirt he’d rummaged up from somewhere—she wasn’t putting on those stupid gowns—she could feel the warmth of his back. And if she hadn’t been so terrified, she might have relaxed against him, just let him hold her for a while. But the doctor had said surgery.

“Calm down?” She shook her head. “No. I won’t calm down, damn it!”

“Ms. Monroe, listen, if we don’t do the surgery, your hand isn’t going to heal right. It’s not just a simple break and the bones in the hand are delicate.”

In the calm, logical part of her brain that could still think past the pain, past the terror, she knew he was making sense. And damn it, she needed her hands. But, surgery. Rocki didn’t have too many crippling fears, but surgery was probably one of them. Alright, not probably. It was one of them.

Feeling like a foolish child, she turned around and pressed her face against Cole’s chest. “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

“Shhh. It’s okay.”

As she curled against him, Cole thought his heart was going to break. She’d been clinging to control by her fingertips all night, made it through the questioning from Clayton, tolerated the exam, although he’d suspected she had a fear of doctors even then.

Glancing up at the doctor, he asked, “Can you give us a minute?”

He slipped out of the room without another word, and as the door shut behind him, Cole cupped his hand over the back of Rocki’s neck. “You’re afraid of doctors, huh?”

“Not doctors.” Her voice was muffled. She shuddered against him, but he heard her well enough as she whispered, “Surgery. Needles. Those things. Doctors are just fine as long as they don’t use needles. And they can’t do surgery without needles.”

He rubbed her back. He’d followed the ambulance in his own car and he’d snagged his gym bag, figuring she might want to get out of the blood-stained clothes she’d worn. The pretty, pale pink vest-like corset she’d had on over a long-sleeved peasant blouse was ruined. Now she was wearing his faded Star Wars tee over a pair of scrub pants and she was trembling. “Sweetheart, you can’t let your hand stay broken, and if you don’t let them fix it, you’ll probably lose some use of that hand.”

Rocki sniffed.

“You don’t want that, right?”

“I’m debating,” she mumbled.

At the sulking, pouting sound of her voice, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Rocki...you need your hands, right?”

“I guess.” She sighed and lifted her head, staring at him. Those bitter-chocolate eyes were a little too bright and her face was flushed pink. The pulse at the base of her neck was racing. “You probably think I’m some sort of basket case.”

“No.” He stroked a hand through her hair and tugged her close, resting his brow against hers. “I think you’ve had one hell of a bad night and now you have to do the one thing you hate. Who wouldn’t be pissed?”

“Pissed. Terrified...yeah, pissed sounds better.” She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “Today really kind of sucked, you know that?”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “Although I can think of one really good thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re here.” He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could get that image out of his head, wishing he could do something to wipe away the sound of her scream. “Damn it, Rocki.”

“Hey...” She eased away, peering up at him. “I’m fine. Well. Mostly.” She gave her hand a look of acute dislike and then looked back at him. “I’m fine. But now that you mention it...I can think of a good thing, too. You were there. And you’re here now. So that’s two good things.”

There was a knock at the door.

“It’s probably the doctor.” Good thing, because he needed a minute to get his balance again, to calm down before he broke. He kept thinking about how easily