Page 4 of Her Secret Wish

Fighting impatience, Rachel went through the series of events as she remembered them.

“Excellent. And what day is it?”

“Saturday.”

“That is correct.” He pulled a penlight from his pocket to shine into her eyes, then away. “You have a concussion from your head striking the doorframe of the car. While it’s not too bad, I don’t think I want to release you just yet. Head trauma can be unpredictable. You’ve got severe contusions on your left calf but again, no breaks. We had to put a dozen stitches in your arm, but those can come out in a week to ten days. I think you were very lucky this time, Ms. Searles. The airbags protected you from the worst of it.”

Rachel wasn’t ever going to bitch about spending so much money on that car, then. The airbags alone had probably saved her from extensive injuries to her already compromised body. She could spend the night in the hospital. It was so much less than she’d expected.

Several hours later she was ready to bitch. Though they were only doing their job, the damned nurses would not leave her alone. As soon as she drifted off to sleep, which she needed desperately, they slipped in to check her pupil response and other neurological markers. After she’d been woken up four times in the course of the evening, she snapped at the pretty brunette twig with the perma-smile. “If you people don’t leave me alone for the next six hours to get some real sleep, I will walk out of here AMA. Do you get me?”

Her shiny perma-smile wilted. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Then you better check with whoever is in charge because even though this bed is one of the softest hospital beds I’ve ever felt, I will walk out of here without hesitation.”

They gave her four hours. Barely.

As Rachel cracked her lids open to look at the woman pushing a wheeled cart into the room, her eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. Four hours would be all she would get today. Although, if she went home she could sleep all she wanted.

With that thought in mind, she demanded to be released as soon as the doctor came for rounds. And though he hemmed and hawed, he eventually gave in in the face of her implacable stubbornness. The doctor gave her a handful of prescriptions and demanded that she follow up with her general practitioner. Rachel promised she would because it was only sensible. She didn’t want to have any more medical issues than she had already.

As they wheeled her down the long hallway to the front of the hospital, she wondered who she could call to come get her. Maybe if there was a valet they could call her a cab. Shit, she didn’t have any money. She was just wondering if it was still possible to make collect calls when the orderly wheeled her outside the doors.

There was a white Denver PD cruiser waiting at the curb, with an aquamarine-eyed savior in uniform leaning against the fender. For a moment, Rachel just had to stare. She’d known the man had to have been real, but she’d never expected to see him again. And she certainly didn’t remember him being so gorgeous. Or sobuilt. Those muscles had taken many long, long hours in a gym to achieve, but he wasn’t muscle-bound. Those incredible biceps strained the sleeves of his shirt but weren’ttoomuch.

As the orderly pushed her wheelchair to the turn-around, the hunk in the black uniform pushed away from the car, lips spread in a blinding smile.

“Were you in uniform before?” she asked, confused.

The officer shook his head. “No, ma’am. Yesterday was my day off.”

“Yet you still ended up working.”

He shrugged his incredibly broad shoulders, giving her a sheepish look. “It was worth it to help rescue a beautiful woman.”

Rachel barked out a laugh, truly amused. “If you think a blood-covered face is beautiful, you may need to seek help.”

Dean laughed with her, head tipped back and strong column of his neck moving. Though he wore a bullet-proof vest beneath his uniform, Rachel could tell he moved like a trained warrior. She was stunned to find herself so drawn to him. Though she worked with gorgeous, confident men every day, it was work. The fact that Dean had shown up here, appearing to want to give her a ride and check up on her, made her think this was more personal. Maybe she should clarify. “Do I have a statement I need to fill out or something?”

Dean blinked those glorious eyes. “Well, that’s up to your investigating officer. I signed out to give you a quick ride home. A buddy’s wife works here so she called me when it looked like you were getting out. She said you were a bit of a pain last night.”

His gaze did a quick head to toe, taking her measure, then his smile broadened.

Rachel was a little stunned. Men weren’t generally drawn to her. It had been pounded into her head that she was too strong, a little too butch, to appeal to men. After being in the military for so many years, and especially in the exclusive group she’d been in, it had not benefitted her to be feminine, so she’d tried to block that part of herself away.

“I…thank you for the offer of a ride, but I can call a cab.”

Dean shook his head and moved forward, holding a broad hand out to help her from the chair. Rachel took the offered hand without thinking, letting him lift her up. At any other time she’d have brushed his offer of aid away and just shoved up out of the chair herself.

Somethingabout Dean West had knocked her world a little off kilter.

His strong hand gripped her own and tugged but she swayed. She took a step to steady herself and ended up chest to chest with her rescuer.

Rachel stepped back, flustered, and angry with herself that she felt that way. What the hell was going on with her? Maybe she could blame being so out of balance on the pain meds they’d given her.

Dean still had that ornery grin on his face, but it seemed to be tinged with awareness now. Surely that couldn’t be right… no man in their right mind would go for her, not looking the way she was right now. The nurse had apologized when she’d handed over Rachel’s bag of dingy, blood-streaked clothes. There was a monster bandage on her temple, where she’d had to get a few stitches in one of the lacerations. Her hair hadn’t even been brushed in a solid day, let alone clean.

Rachel didn’t have family in the area so there was no way she could have fresh clothes dropped off. She could call one of the guys from LNF, but she didn’t want anybody to know what had happened if she could avoid it. Although in the interest of full disclosure, she should probably let Duncan know what had happened.

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