River Wolf(7)

God, it sounded so good.

At the door to his room, she didn’t even bother raising her hand to knock. She simply waited.

“Come in,” the patient called, and she grinned as she pushed the door inward. Not even his scowl could lessen her good mood. “You’re late.”

“I was busy,” she told him, closing the door and leaning against it. “I promised I would come back after my shift, and my shift just ended.”

Weird how he was the one in the bed with the casts and the injuries, yet he seemed even more alert than he had that morning. His I.V. was also missing from his arm. The stand was there, but the tubing lay discarded to the side. The saline drip bag was three-quarters full. If they’d planned on removing his I.V. they would have cleaned up after him. Had five-ten removed it himself?

“You look tired,” his gruff tone softened. “Is the old guy going to be okay?”

“His wife pulled through,” she said by way of answer. No point in asking him how he knew where she’d been or pointing out that if he had known, then he’d also known she’d be late. “So, here I am. What did you want to ask me?”

The corner of his mouth quirked and his eyes narrowed, though the green color was all but lost in the half-light of the lamp nearest him. Hell, his eyes seemed to be reflecting the light in the dark room and were almost yellow. Creepy. Cool, too. But creepy.

“I love how you cut to the chase.” Patting the bed next to him once, he curved the fingers on his casted arm. “Come sit and talk to me for a minute. I won’t keep you long.”

“I’m good right here.” Truth was, since she’d leaned against the door she wasn’t sure she could straighten and walk to the side of his bed much less out of the room. Better to rest for a few minutes longer, because she still needed to get to her car.

He frowned and she half-expected him to argue. Disliking her choice might be his prerogative, but since she didn’t plan on seeing him again… “I have a proposal for you.” Each word seemed carefully chosen and the weight of his regard rested on her like a wave of hot and humid air. “I need to get out of here.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Both of his legs were in casts—one from mid-thigh to his ankle and the other from the knee all the way to the end of his foot—not to mention his left arm was casted from elbow to wrist.

“Ignore the plaster. I can check myself out against medical advice. It doesn’t matter—what I need is a ride.” Fixed on her, his gaze remained unwavering. “You’re leaving after today and heading where, exactly?”

Okay. There were patients who needed the extra bit of handholding and then there were guys who crossed the line. She felt bad for five-ten, but not that bad. “None of your damn business.”

Another faint smile graced his lips. “You are a tough one, Colby.” The way he said her name sent goosebumps rippling over her arms. “But you’re right. It isn’t any of my business, but I’m asking because I need your help and I’m willing to pay for it.”

“First of all, you’re in a hospital because you were in a coma, and you’re still recovering from whatever the hell happened to you.” No one was quite certain, though all signs pointed to him having been involved in a hit and run. “Rumor has it you were found naked and unconscious next to the road. You’ve got a lot of broken bones and you were in a coma.” She repeated it for effect. “The last thing you need to do is check yourself out and travel anywhere…besides, you probably can’t get around without a wheelchair.”

“All true.” Though he agreed with her, his sigh conveyed more frustration than all of his growling over the last week.

Pushing away from the door, she crossed the room. “Mr. Danes…”

“Luc.”

Charming. “Mr. Danes.” Enunciating his name earned her another faint smile. “I get that you don’t like being here. No one likes being in a hospital. But your injuries are extensive and you have a concussion. The nasty cut on your forehead there may be linked to a cracked skull.”

“Trust me, sweet cheeks, my skull is fine. The rest of me will be fine, too, once I get home—”

Interest perking, she raised her brows. “Home? I thought they asked you about contact information for family and you didn’t give them any.”

“Yeah, because I’d rather go to them than have them all come here. To do that, I need a ride.” Sitting forward caused him pain, or at least the grimace on his face suggested it did. “I can’t drive a car right now, but you can. You’re leaving anyway, and I can make it lucrative for you.”