But never in his wildest dreams had he pictured her in his bed. Well, maybe he had. But he’d damned himself from here to eternity for wanting to peel off her wedding dress and have her innocence all to himself.
Shaking off the thought, he started to pull one corner of the bedspread around her, but her coat was still wet. He really didn’t want her to sleep in it—especially as she’d begun shaking the second she’d entered the apartment, despite the fact that late spring in New York tended toward warm and humid. Her continued shivering was the only reason he’d handed her the glass of whiskey in the first place.
He couldn’t do anything about her damp hair—the loose strands a charming melding of blond and red—but he could slip her coat off and at least let her sleep in dry clothes.
His fingers went to the knot at her waist, and he frowned at how tightly she’d cinched the thing. If he’d had any doubts about leaving her in it, that quashed them. He worked at the tie until one loop loosened then slid free. Taking a deep breath, he parted the edges of the coat. The air whistled right back out of his lungs at the sight that met his tired eyes.
Holy hell.
A black negligee—opaque lace on top with a floaty skirt made of some kind of see-through fabric—was all she had on … well, other than the tiniest pair of panties known to mankind. Panties that were clearly visible. Clearly sheer.
He swallowed hard, torn between the desire to devour her with his eyes and wrap the coat tightly back around her. His body was having a tough time knowing which of his mixed signals to obey, although he might as well finish what he’d started and take the coat the rest of the way off, so she could at least sleep in comfort.
Unlike him, who’d probably have this image seared onto the backs of his eyelids for the rest of his life.
He slid the coat off her, turning her body to the side as he pulled it out from under her. What in God’s name had Chloe been thinking, walking around downtown New York like this?
She was the cautious one. The one who’d balked at riding on the back of his motorcycle, even after he’d tamed some of his wilder urges.
And yet here she was. In his apartment, like a sexy flasher from one of those secretary fantasies. She sure as hell hadn’t come here to seduce him with the get-up.
Then who?
He remembered the smeared mascara. The haunted look in her eyes.
It suddenly became clear in a rush. Jason’s random comments about his brother-in-law took on new meaning. How he’d said Chloe never complained but Jason was convinced something was wrong with their marriage and had been for a long time. Travis always seemed to be off somewhere or other on business, leaving Chloe at home alone.
Brad pulled the covers over her, hiding her from his own prying eyes—something that he was now thoroughly ashamed of.
He could almost bet Travis was in a hotel room somewhere in New York. And that Chloe’s shoes were there as well. He could easily guess why she’d come to town and what she must have found once she’d arrived. His fingers tightened around the coat in his hands until his knuckles ached as he stared down at her long lashes, the dark circles under her eyes … the slight swelling on her lip.
Damn that man. He’d hurt Chloe.
If it was the last thing Brad did, he was going to make Travis Maroni pay for his sins.
CHAPTER THREE
“I GOT A CALL this morning. He’s looking for her.”
Jason’s worried voice met him as soon as Brad answered his cellphone. He looked up from the case notes of Angel’s newest prenatal patient, a thirty-five-year-old woman whose ultrasound scan had revealed a fetal heart defect. The baby was fine in utero, but would die within minutes once out of that safe environment if something wasn’t done.
To top it all off, he’d arrived at his office that morning to find a snarky resignation letter from Katrina, his date from the previous evening. She’d evidently not been as blasé about being shooed from his apartment as she’d seemed to be at the time.
Which meant his unit was now short-staffed.
That’s what he got for getting involved with a colleague. Never again.
“Brad, you still there?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Just trying to think.” That was another thing. There was no way he was going to let Chloe head home before he knew exactly what was going on between her and that scumbag husband of hers. “She wasn’t in good shape last night, Jason, which is why I called. I figured you’d be worried.”
“I’m glad you did. We had no idea she was even headed to New York. Dad is fit to be tied. Travis swears it’s all a big misunderstanding, that Chloe took off after an argument, but he’s not fooling anyone. If he weren’t my sister’s husband …”
Brad’s thoughts exactly. “Is he still in New York?”
“No, he’s home. Said he was surprised not to find Chloe here. Claims to be worried as hell.”
There was no way Brad would have ever left New York without searching every inch of it first. For the man just to drive home without even trying to locate her was unthinkable. What if she’d been mugged … or worse?
“Did you tell him she was at my place?”
“I’m not telling him anything.” There was a pause over the line. “Is she okay? Physically, I mean?”
“She seemed to be. She was still asleep when I left this morning.” Should he tell Jason about the split lip or what she’d been wearing when she’d shown up at the apartment? He’d laid a pair of exercise sweats and a black T-shirt across the end of his bed. He figured she could pull the laces around the waist tight enough to keep the pants from sliding below the swell of her hips. Which brought his mind right back to those soft curves that were everything a man could want.
Except she was Chloe.
And it was best to keep her racy attire between the two of them—no need for Jason to know. He didn’t want to embarrass her any more than necessary.
An idea formed. “Is she still working at the community hospital there in Hartford?” Chloe had graduated from nursing school about the same time he had graduated from med school. She’d even specialized in pediatrics, if he remembered right.
“Yes, why?”
“Can you call them and explain the situation? Ask them to give her some time off?”
“I think she’s got some vacation time coming, but I’ll check to make sure. Dad invested quite a bit of money in one of their service projects a year or two ago.” A chuckle came over the phone. “Chloe just about blew a gasket when she heard, asked him if he was trying to buy a permanent position for her.”
Brad could imagine that quite well. He’d been on the receiving end of that outrage a time or two—like when he’d caught her holding hands with a boy on the swing at her parents’ house. The glare he’d given the kid had sent him scrambling for the sidewalk. But when he’d tried to give Chloe a stern warning, she’d sniffed and claimed there was nothing to worry about. She’d decided to wait until she got married to “do it.”
Did people even do that nowadays?
Evidently they did, because when he’d laughed in her face, she’d flushed scarlet and then balled her fingers into a tight fist before punching him in the chest. Right on top of the fading bruise from his motorcycle accident. It had stung, but it had also gotten her point across: her virginity was no joking matter.
Something his mind had also toyed with the night of her wedding. Had she really saved herself? Only to wind up with a jerk like Travis?
His hand went to the spot and rubbed it as