Page 31 of Legacy of Danger
Chapter 8
During Tuesday morning rounds, Mariah skidded to a stop halfway down the hall. She rubbed her eyes.
Because what she saw couldn't be happening.
Garrison pushed Shelby—the patient who had only awakened from a coma yesterday—in a wheelchair, flanked by none other than a fierce Vaughn. As a matter of fact, his scowl seemed to create a bubble around the three of them. Nurses and techs gave him a wide berth.
The good feelings from their pleasant but odd brunch yesterday drained away in an instant.
She hurried to the trio. "What are you doing?" It was unfair how she had to tilt her head to glare at Vaughn.
He crossed his arms over a tight-fitting, gray thermal shirt and smiled. Like he had some kind of power over her, with that... chest. Or like he had leverage, since they'd had a date? Not really a date-date. More of a meal together.
Not really a full meal, either, more of a quick snack before she had to leave early. Did he always eat apples like that? Because she could go for watching him demolish a Red Delicious again.
Okay, so not a date. More of an apple-viewing party interrupted by a phone call from the hospital.
Damn it. How long had she stood here, staring? For Pete's sake, she was a professional.
She rocked back on her heels. How dare they move her patient?
Fair enough. Shelby looked pretty fit right now, which significantly lowered Mariah's fear for her patient's life, freeing space to think about things like Vaughn's pecs. She mentally shook her head. But still, Shelby's condition had been critical not twenty-four hours earlier. Her vision was only just now returning. That woman needed to rest and recover. In bed. Where she could be flippin' monitored. By medical devices to keep her from being dead.
She shouldn't be out on a stroll with her brother. Brothers.
Vaughn's spine snapped straight as he locked his glitter-swirling irises onto Mariah. A shiver worked its way through her, but regardless of how he made her feel inside, she would remain in control of this hospital situation.
"You guys. What the heck?" she tried again.
"We're taking our sister to see the patient in that room." Vaughn tilted his annoying chin toward Eric Patterson's ICU bed. Today, his words came out ice cold, a totally different man from yesterday. As if they'd never had a date... meal... apple together.
Fine. She could play this game.
"This may not be safe. I didn't give permission for her to be moved." Mariah spaced her legs shoulder-width apart and fingered the bell of her stethoscope that hung from her neck.
"We didn't ask your permission." Vaughn crossed his arms over that damned chest.
Garrison did a land-based fish impression as he stared at his brother.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
From the wheelchair, Shelby jerked her head up toward Vaughn. She squinted, but her expression held an air of concentration, like she sniffed the air between Mariah and Vaughn.
For his part, Vaughn opened his stance and leaned forward, like a fighter about to begin a round. A physical contest would end badly for one of them, Mariah had no doubt. Where had the nice guy gone who took care of the bully, cleaned spilled coffee, and then nibbled a Weight Watchers breakfast?
Beneath his narrowed gaze, she fought the urge to pull her lab coat tight around her. No, she needed to assert some control to preserve the safety of her patients. Damn it, she was responsible for their recovery.
"You sound familiar." Shelby said.
To put a hand on Shelby's arm, Mariah had to brush elbow to elbow with Vaughn. He moved not at all. Damn the heat radiating from his hard body.
"I'm Mariah West, one of the family doctors. I checked on you yesterday morning, but you were still pretty groggy. I'm also the ER doctor who has been seeing far too much of you Taggarts over the past several weeks."
"So why are you working here and not the ER, then?" Vaughn raised his hard chin again, tempting her to put a fist into it.
Would a simplethank yoube too much to ask?
Best recovery was a good offense.
