Healed by the Single Dad Doc

So she had been hurt before. It seemed to Ethan that Kate was fighting not just this incident but her memories of the last one.

‘Yes, they will. As a medical practitioner, it’s my duty to encourage you to report any injury that’s the result of a crime. As a...friend, I’ll tell you that this is a difficult process, but one that may well help you to feel better in the long run. It helps if you decide to do it on your own terms.’

She thought for a moment. Then that spark of resilience flashed in her eyes. ‘Yes, you’re right. Can you do it?’

The thought that she trusted him was almost overwhelming. Ethan could do it. He’d documented and photographed injuries many times before for police use. If there were any question about his personal involvement in the crime, then he’d take the flack that Mags would almost certainly dispense.

‘You’re sure?’

‘Yes. Positive.’ Now that Kate had made up her mind, she seemed impatient for action.

‘All right. I’ll go and get the forms and see if I can find a nurse.’ An impartial observer would be good on two counts—first to countersign the forms. Mags would like that. And second to help Kate pull up her shirt at the back and position her arm. Because, if the first time he’d touched her had been intoxicating, now it was almost becoming a craving.

CHAPTER THREE

THIS WAS NOT GOOD. A hero, someone who would appear out of nowhere and save the day... It was every girl’s dream, which was absolutely fine, just as long as that hero didn’t think he could remove himself from the imaginary world and infiltrate reality.

And Ethan Conway was more than six feet of solid reality. The kind that made her melt when she looked at him and shiver whenever he touched her. He’d stepped out of a dream, and was wreaking havoc with her waking world, and she’d let him do it. She’d given in and allowed him to help her.

He’d been in the right place at the right time. That was all it was. If she could just concentrate on not being so needy, then Ethan wouldn’t seem so much of a hero.

* * *

Kate had learned her lesson, the last time she’d been mugged. It had been two days before Mark had come to see her. Looking around and declaring that he hated hospitals, he’d dumped an ostentatious bunch of flowers across her legs, making Kate wince in pain, and then had selected a chair, brushed it off with a handkerchief and sat down.

After the attack, as soon as she’d been able to get someone to help her with the phone, Kate had made frantic calls, trying to find out whether Mark was all right. She’d heard that he was professing himself to be a bit shaken up, but that he was uninjured, and her friends had expressed surprise when they’d heard she was in hospital. Mark had never thought to mention that.

‘It’s every man for himself in these situations, Kate.’ Mark had seemed keen to justify his actions, but suddenly guilt had cut into his air of nonchalance.

He couldn’t have known. That was what Kate had been telling herself. He’d thought that she’d be able to run too, and that was why he hadn’t come back. And afterwards...? Perhaps he’d felt guilty and that had kept him away.

Mark’s mouth twisted suddenly. ‘You need to keep your wits about you a bit more.’

‘I... I couldn’t get away...’ Tears had blurred her vision and Kate had tried to blink them away. However needy she’d felt, however battered and bruised, it had been clear that Mark didn’t want to see it.

‘Like I said—if you’d been taking notice, then you would have been right behind me.’

Mark had shaken his head slowly, as if her slow-wittedness left him at a loss.

And that had been the end of it. Mark had talked about a fi

lm he’d gone to see—one that they’d been planning to see together—and had left exactly one hour after he’d arrived. He’d clearly been keeping his eye on the time.

She’d asked one of the nurses to give the flowers to a woman at the other end of the ward, who didn’t seem to have any. Mark wasn’t coming back.

And he’d been right in one thing. If Kate couldn’t look after herself, then no one else would.

* * *

Kate stubbornly refused to call Ethan, and he hadn’t called her. For three weeks she’d worked solidly, trying to get her life back into some semblance of normality. And then his name showed up on her caller display.

This must be the call she’d made him promise to make. She tapped the answer button, smiling into the phone, trying to inject some of that smile into her tone.

‘Hi, Ethan. How’s everything?’

‘It’s Jeff. He’s failing fast.’ His voice was broken with emotion.

‘Okay. Why don’t I drop in and see you? I’ve just finished my Friday evening surgery, and I can be with you in half an hour.’