The Temptation of Dr. Colton

Luckily, the workout clothes were made of stretchy material and she was able to pull them on. She didn’t have sneakers—the battered pair of flip-flops she’d been given by the hospital would have to do. Either way, this was a huge improvement on what she’d worn before. However, the tight workout outfit highlighted every curve. Almost embarrassingly so.

Feeling oddly shy, she emerged from the bathroom.

“You look great,” Greta crowed. “Doesn’t she, Eric?”

He let his gaze rove over her, his eyes darkening. “Much better,” he finally said. She couldn’t make herself look away. The vitality he radiated drew her like a magnet.

“Ahem.” Greta cleared her throat. “Are you ready?”

Face heating yet again, MW nodded. “I am.”

“Then let’s go. I’ve got to be back at the ranch at sundown.”

MW quickly learned that shopping with Greta was an endurance event. For the next three hours, Greta dragged her from store to store. MW was shocked when she found herself imagining Eric’s reaction to each outfit she tried on. Pushing away those thoughts became as difficult as trying to examine the price tags and mentally calculate the cost. Each time she tried to broach the subject with Greta, Greta refused to discuss it.

In the end, they purchased two dresses, three pairs of jeans, an assortment of T-shirts, blouses, bras and panties, socks, sneakers and two pairs of heels. Each time MW tried to protest, Greta just grinned and purchased the disputed item anyway.

By the time Greta pronounced them done, both women were loaded down with bags and MW had begun to stagger with exhaustion. Greta glanced at her and did a double take.

“I think we might have overdone it a little bit,” she muttered.

“Just make sure and give me the total,” MW replied tiredly. “I’m going to keep track of everything so I can pay it back.”

By the time they reached Eric’s street, MW’s stride was seriously lagging. The late-afternoon August heat made her feel dizzy. She also realized she hated to perspire. One more thing she remembered, which under normal circumstances would have energized her. Now she just longed for a cool shower.

“Are you all right?” Greta asked, her voice sharp. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, MW concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. “I’m fine.” They were nearly there. She prayed she could cross the last fifty feet and get through the door. Then she planned to find the closest available chair and plop herself into it.

A white panel van with dark tinted windows pulled up alongside them and slowed, matching their pace.

“Keep walking,” Greta said, her voice sharp. “Faster.”

MW pulled strength from somewhere and increased her stride.

The van stopped just ahead of them. A man with a baseball cap and dark sunglasses jumped out of the passenger side. He lunged for MW, grabbing her arm. She struggled, using her shopping bags as weapons, albeit ineffectually.

Shouting for someone to help them, Greta came to her aid. Somehow, she managed to wrench MW free, just as two Good Samaritans emerged from inside the coffee shop and chased after the men.

One would-be assailant cursed and jumped back into the van, which sped off.

It all happened so fast. Numb, heart pounding, MW watched the vehicle go while Greta and the two strangers picked up the spilled packages. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, standing there frozen and shell-shocked.

“Hon?” Greta touched her arm. “You look like you’re going to pass out. Do you need to sit down, maybe put your head between your knees?”

Blinking, MW slowly shook her head. “I want to go home.” Except she didn’t know where exactly that might be.

“Hang on, okay?” Greta turned to assist their rescuers in picking up the scattered clothing.

Once everything had been collected and placed in neat little piles, Greta thanked the two men who’d helped them.

“Are you all right?” Greta asked, putting her arm around MW.

Despite the fact that she’d started trembling and felt very unsteady, as if she might pass out at any moment, MW nodded. “I think so,” she answered, pleased that her voice came out strong and sure.

“We need to hurry up and find out who you are,” Greta said firmly. “And why so many people are out to get you.”

Chapter 3

Right after Greta and MW left to go shopping, Eric’s cell rang. Seeing Ryan’s name on the screen, he answered immediately.

“We’ve run everything we can think of on any missing women as well as anyone named Walter,” Ryan told him. “We’ve checked missing persons, warrants, and people who have been recently incarcerated. We even checked black Lincoln Town Cars registered in Tulsa. The traffic cameras were too blurry due to the rain. We’ve come up with absolutely nothing. Not on her or on the person who hit her.”

“Thanks for trying. It wasn’t a lot to go on.” Eric had known it would be too much to hope for this to be so easy. For the first time ever, he considered himself lucky the hospital hadn’t paged him to come in and do some sort of emergency surgery today. Next to medicine, there was nothing he liked more than a good mystery. And MW certainly presented one.

“How’d your meal with Greta go? Or are you two still at lunch?”

Eric laughed. “No, we finished in record time. Greta was in a hurry. She took the mystery woman shopping.”

The total silence told him how much he’d stunned his brother. Quickly, he explained. “MW—Mystery Woman—has nothing. No clothing, no toiletries, nada. I figured the best person to get her the basic things women need would be Greta. I gave her my credit card and let her get busy. She was thrilled. You know how she loves to shop.”

Ryan groaned. “You’re sure asking for it. At least I know you can afford the bill when it comes in. You should have plenty of money since you never buy a damn thing for yourself.”

Eric made a noncommittal sound. Ryan knew him well. He liked to work, didn’t have many hobbies, and aside from making his student-loan payments, paying the hefty premium for his malpractice insurance, his office space rent and employees’ payroll, his personal needs were few. After purchasing furniture and a sweet sports car, he banked most of his salary. Which was much less than most people realized.

“Are you still on for dinner?” Ryan asked.

Eric found himself wondering if his impromptu houseguest would be all right. “Can I get back to you on that?”

Ryan swore. “Sure. But I don’t have to tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to barbecue.”

“What is it with you and Greta and your food?” As far as Eric concerned, he ate to fuel his body, nothing more. It helped if it was something he truly enjoyed, like the meatball sub earlier, but he never obsessed about it. “She was craving a panini earlier.”

“Whatever. Like you don’t. I know you enjoy Red’s Ribs,” Ryan prodded. “Because as far as I can remember, the last time we were there, you ate an entire rack of them by yourself.”

Grinning, Eric conceded maybe he had. Growing up, with all of them crammed together on the ranch, he’d sought any means to escape his siblings. These days, he enjoyed their company. Maybe absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

“Most likely, I’ll be there,” he told his brother. “I want to make sure my houseguest is going to be all right by herself.”

“If not, just bring her with you.”

Eric frowned. “Why would I want to do that?”

“For me. I want to get a look at what kind of woman can get past my big brother’s defenses.”

“It’s not like that,” Eric started to protest hotly, and caught himself, aware his brother loved to tease him. “Both you and Greta like stirring things up, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” Ryan chuckled. “Give me a call as soon as you know if we’re on for dinner.”

“Will do.” He had some investigating of his own to do. Back in medical school and during his residency, he’d become a master of the internet search. Once he got started, he could lose hours of time without realizing it, but usually was pretty successful at getting results.

Right now, he planned to find out anything he could about the mystery woman who’d landed in his town house, and her connection to someone named Walter and a speeding Lincoln Town Car.

* * *

As MW tottered along behind Greta, who urged her to hurry, she nearly groaned out loud in relief when Eric’s town house came into view.

“We’re almost there.” Turning, Greta flashed her an encouraging smile. “At least once we’re in the atrium, you’ll be safe.”

MW couldn’t keep from looking behind her. “As long as they—whoever they are—don’t see where I’m going.”

Eric opened the door before Greta could knock, which was a good thing considering how many shopping bags she carried.

His vivid green eyes widened. “What the...”

Sweeping past him, Greta flashed an unrepentant grin as she dropped all her bags on the floor. “Your guest is now fully outfitted. You can thank me later.”

Ignoring them both, MW staggered past them and sank into the chair, dropping her shopping bags in the pile with Greta’s. She leaned forward, putting her head between her knees, willing the dizziness to abate.

Immediately, Eric crouched down next to her, taking her wrist to feel her pulse. “What’s wrong?”

She managed a weak smile. “I think I just overdid it a bit, that’s all.”

When he gave her shoulder a light squeeze, she had to fight the urge to lean into him. His big hand lingered on her wrist, making her aware he could completely encircle it with his fingers.

“Are you going to tell him or shall I?” Greta demanded, twin spots of color high on her cheeks.

MW swallowed.

Eric went tense, suddenly alert. “Tell me what?”

Gently rubbing her wrist where his grip had tightened, MW exchanged a glance with Greta. “You go ahead,” she said.

“Some men in a white van—just like in the movies—pulled up alongside us as we were walking. A guy got out of the passenger side and tried to grab MW. I screamed for help, but we were able to fight them off. Two guys came out of the coffee shop and chased them away.”

Both Eric and Greta stared at MW. She wanted to shrink into the chair. Inhaling deeply, she shrugged. “I know what you both are thinking, but I have no idea.”

“First someone tries to run you down, now someone else tries to grab you,” Eric said, echoing his sister’s earlier words. “We have got to increase our efforts and find out who you are and why someone is after you. As quickly as possible.”

Feeling slightly dejected, MW nodded. “I agree.”

“Until then, you both need to be super careful,” Greta said, her cool gaze sliding from one to the other. “Right now, I’ve got to go.” She walked over to Eric. “Here’s your credit card.”

“Thank you.” He tucked it away in his wallet.

Greta rummaged through the mountain of bags until she found the ones she wanted. “One outfit for me, including shoes, and thank you very much.”

She gave her brother a quick hug and rushed out the door.

After Greta left, Eric turned his emerald gaze on MW. Alone with him, suddenly she felt self-conscious. Why, she had no idea. At least the room no longer spun and she could catch her breath.

“Other than the attempted abduction, did you have a good time?” he asked. “I know my sister really enjoys shopping.”

“I did. But honestly, I didn’t need all of that,” she said, waving her hand at the pile of shopping bags. “We can return most of it tomorrow.”

Dragging his hand through his close-cropped hair, he shook his head, his mouth quirking. “Yes, you did. Keep it. You had nothing. Now you have something. Consider it my gift to you.”

Immediately, she shook her head. “Not a gift. I barely even know you. I want to pay you back as soon as I can.”

As their gazes locked, she realized the inherent strength and compassion in his rugged face appealed to her on many levels. His aquiline nose and the sensual curve of his mouth, combined with the intelligence shining in his eyes, drew her with an intensity she couldn’t explain.

Which might not be a good thing, especially if she was married. Or even involved. For all she knew, Walter could be her significant other.

Or her brother. Until her memory returned, she had no way of knowing. And while she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, that meant nothing. Until she realized if she was someone’s wife or girlfriend, she needed to rein in her attraction to this handsome, kind doctor.

“We’ll see,” he finally said. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll pull all the receipts and figure out the total. I’ll hang on to it until your memory comes back.”

Relieved, she nodded. “Thank you. Now what?”

“You’re welcome to hang out here. Rest, recuperate, do whatever makes you happy. I work a lot, so we won’t bump into each other much.”

Both appalled and fascinated, she swallowed. “You and I are strangers, correct? We didn’t know each other before my accident?”

“Right.”

“Yet you trust me alone in your beautiful home?” She glanced around, noting the polished wood floors, the perfectly matched accessories. Either the sexy doctor had impeccable taste or he’d hired an interior decorator. “How do you know I’m not a criminal? What if you were to come home one night after work and find I’d cleaned you out?”

His sensual mouth twitched, an obvious attempt not to laugh out loud. “Okay. Do you plan to do that?”

“Well, no. But...”

“Then there’s no problem. Don’t worry so much.” The warmth in his voice echoed in his smile. “I promise you, I really don’t mind.”

“As long as I don’t interfere in your life,” she continued stubbornly. As if she had some other place to go. “I’ll stay here if you give me your word you’ll let me know the second I become a burden.”

“Deal.” He held out his hand, making her notice his long and graceful fingers. A surgeon’s hand.

Taking a deep breath, she clasped his hand, surprised when he wove his fingers in between hers and held on. She found herself gripping his big yet elegant hand, at a total loss for words, but not wanting to let go. Inexplicably, this small kindness made her throat ache and her chest feel tight. She wondered if he could feel her heartbeat through her touch.

Again, her body tingled at the thought. Somehow, she managed to gently extricate herself before she got into trouble.

“I think I need to rest,” she finally managed, her voice a hoarse whisper.

“Let me help you.” Taking her arm—why did he have to keep on touching her?—he lifted her from the chair and supported her as they headed toward her room. Though she knew she could walk, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse his assistance, secretly enjoying the hard masculine feel of his body.

Once they reached her room, he held on to her while pulling back the covers to her bed. “Good thing you didn’t make the bed after your nap,” he said, his voice as husky as her own had been earlier.

A shudder of unadulterated wanting ran through her. Trouble, that was what he was. If she wasn’t careful, she could lose herself in him and possibly betray someone who might mean the world to her.

Struck dumb, heart pounding, she managed to nod. Despite her effort to shore herself up against her attraction to him, a sudden mental image came to her of the two of them, naked, sliding beneath the sheets. Skin on skin... Her entire body flushed as she realized the direction her thoughts had taken. Sex. Which was the last thing she needed to be thinking about when she didn’t even know her own name.

Luckily, Eric didn’t even notice, which was a good thing. How mortifying if he detected her unwarranted attraction and it made him pity her even more.

“Here you go.” He helped her onto the bed, finally letting go of her. She nodded, keeping her gaze averted. She couldn’t even look at him, afraid he’d somehow recognize the need burning in her eyes.

To her relief, he waited a moment before telling her to get some rest.

“Thank you,” she muttered, head still down, heart still racing.

“Oh.” At the doorway, he stopped. “I’m meeting my brother tonight for dinner. Barbecue. You’re welcome to come with us. He asked me to invite you.”

The idea terrified her. Thinking of the abduction attempt earlier, she couldn’t suppress a shudder. “I don’t know if that’s safe. Until I—we—figure out what’s going on, it’s probably best if I stay hidden.”

“Your choice.” He shrugged. “But you should know, my brother is a police officer. If anyone can keep you safe, he can.”

Despite being tempted—barbecue!—she shook her head. “I’d rather not risk it. I’m still recovering from the accident and this afternoon shopping zapped my energy.” She finally forced herself to look at him, hoping her smile seemed impersonal enough. “I feel like a loaf of bread someone tried to make but forgot to put in the yeast.”

“That’s an odd sort of comparison.” His gaze slid over her, delivering a flash of heat to her belly. “Do you like to cook?”

Did she? She shrugged to hide her confusion. “I don’t know.”

For the space of a couple of heartbeats he watched her, as if waiting for her to say more. When she didn’t, he reached to close the door. Before he did, he looked back at her. “You’ll probably be hungry later. Do you want me to bring you something?”

“I don’t want you to go through any trouble.”

A muscle quirked in his jaw. “We need to get something straight. If I offer, then it’s no trouble. Understand?”

Considering, she finally nodded. “Then thanks. I’d love a sliced-brisket sandwich.” She frowned, a memory tickling the edges of her mind. The more she tried to access it, the more it seemed to dance away, just out of reach. Aware he still watched her, she managed a smile. “Enjoy your night out. I’m going to get some rest.”

Finally, he left, closing the door behind him. She let out her breath, willing her racing heartbeat to slow.

* * *

For the first time since bringing her home, Eric realized MW might have the power to completely disrupt his orderly existence. Something, some reaction or emotion he glimpsed in her light blue eyes, had practically brought him to his knees. Damned if he understood what it was about this woman, but she made him feel things he shouldn’t. For one thing, she didn’t seem to realize how extraordinarily beautiful she was, which might be totally due to her amnesia.

For another, if he had a type—and until now, he hadn’t—MW would be it. He liked her generous curves, her perfect proportions. And her hair. Those wavy, thick strands had him longing to tangle his fingers in them.

Then there was her mouth. If ever he’d seen a mouth made to be kissed, hers...

No. Stop. Dragging his hand across his chin, Eric stared at her closed door and walked back into the living room. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to take advantage of a woman with no memory. As a physician, he’d sworn to help, not hurt. Just because his libido had finally decided to wake up and take notice didn’t give him a valid excuse to act like a fool.

Maybe the hospital board was right. Perhaps he should consider taking a vacation. Possibly once all this was over.

Again his thoughts returned to MW. How long could one woman take to regain her memory? In all his years of study, plus his five-year surgical residency and one year of medical fellowship, he hadn’t seen a single actual case of true amnesia. Brain trauma, yes. Stroke, yes. But MW had only suffered a mild concussion, definitely not something bad enough to cause her to forget her entire existence.

Glancing at his watch, he saw he had thirty minutes before he needed to meet Ryan. Since getting to Red’s Ribs would require him to drive, he’d better get a move on.

His little sports car could use an outing. He’d made the wildly impractical purchase after careful consideration, weighing his love of speed with the steep cost of a Porsche. He’d gone to the dealership one weekend just to look and had ended up becoming the proud owner of a brand-new Porsche Cayman GTS.

Though he rarely drove, every time he did, he was glad he’d made the purchase. At 340 HP, his car could do zero to sixty in 4.5 seconds. He should know, he’d tested it a few times.

Once he reached the restaurant, he parked, noticing that Ryan had beaten him there. Eric recognized his police cruiser parked one row over. He practically bounded from his car, not an easy feat since the sleek sports car sat so low to the ground.

Inside, he spotted Ryan, his dark brown hair as short as Eric’s. Ryan was out of uniform since he was off duty, and he’d already snagged a table. Pulling out a chair, Eric straddled it, quickly filling his brother in on everything that had happened.

“Her memory still hasn’t come back?” Ryan sounded skeptical. Eric didn’t blame him.

“Not yet. I’m hopeful it will soon, especially since there have been two attempts to harm her.”

“Except you don’t know that the hit-and-run was on purpose,” Ryan pointed out.

“It was. I have no doubt. I was there. I saw the Town Car gunning for her. And since two men in a van tried to grab her when she was shopping with Greta...”

“Again, they could have just been pervs out to grab the first woman or women they saw. You don’t know for sure that she was their specific target.”

Eric shook his head. “Don’t you think that’s a bit coincidental?”

“In my line of work, I learned early on never to jump to conclusions.”

“Point taken.” Eric looked around for the waitress, but since the dining room appeared packed, and all the servers seemed busy, he figured she’d stop by eventually.

“So what are you going to do now?” Ryan asked.

“I’m hoping her memory comes back quickly. At least once we know what we’re up against, I can come up with a better plan to keep her safe.”

At Eric’s words, Ryan stared. “Keep her safe? I’d think you’d contact her family.”

“Depends on the situation. I’m not going to allow her to be placed in danger.”

“Not going to... What does this woman look like?”

Immediately understanding where his brother was going, Eric shrugged. “Brown, shoulder-length hair. Wavy with reddish highlights. Light blue eyes. She doesn’t look like a fashion model, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“No.” Taking another sip of his beer, Ryan grinned. “I’m asking if she’s pretty.”

Eric pretended to have to think about it. “Well, she’s not ugly. Why does that matter?”

“Because you are always so laser focused on your job, you barely have time for family, never mind some strange female who you don’t even know.”

Refusing to let his brother needle him, Eric finally managed to catch the attention of a waitress and ordered a diet cola. “I’m on call,” he explained. Which, as Ryan knew, meant he couldn’t drink in case he got called in for surgery.

He waited for Ryan to say something like he usually did about how badly he needed a vacation, but the other man only shrugged and took another pull on his beer.

When the waitress reappeared, they ordered their meals. While waiting for his barbecued ribs, Eric couldn’t understand why he felt so antsy. He couldn’t stop thinking about MW, all alone and probably frightened, and he realized he probably shouldn’t have left her by herself. He decided he’d eat as quickly as possible and hurry home.

Of course Ryan, with his detective’s powers of observation, noticed his fidgeting. Luckily, their food arrived, which distracted him, though Eric knew it wouldn’t last for long.

Digging in, he tried to shrug off his fascination with his temporary houseguest and focused on the delicious meal.

Ryan ate heartily as well, though he kept shooting Eric questioning looks while he ate. Finally, he shook his head. Putting down his ribs, he licked his fingers before wiping his mouth with his paper towel. “All right, spill. You’re superdistracted. What’s wrong?”