“Yes.”
“You aren’t going to like hearing this, but in that case, with your symptoms, I would rather keep you overnight for observation than send you home.”
“No.” She didn’t have medical insurance. No way was she going to stay overnight in the hospital. The bill from the ambulance and her emergency room visit would be high enough.
“You will be taking an unnecessary risk with your health.”
“But not a big risk.” And it was necessary, even if he couldn’t see it.
“That depends on how you look at it,” he said.
“Not staying.”
The doctor nodded his head curtly, as if he could tell it would be useless to argue further.
“You’ll need to call someone. You cannot go home alone, and you’ll have to sign a release form saying you are denying the prescribed medical treatment.”
“I’ll sign the form.” But there was no one she could call.
When she told him that, he would try again to insist she stay overnight.
She opened her mouth, prepared to argue her case despite her aching head and weakened state. The doctor got called to another patient before she could start, and she breathed a sigh of relief. If she could get up and get dressed before he got back, she would have a stronger case for discharging herself.
She gingerly slid her legs over the side of the bed and pulled herself into a sitting position with the hand-bar on the bed. Then she stayed where she was until her head stopped spinning. Slowly, moving her head as little as possible, she stood up and then shuffled, one slow step at a time, to the cupboard where she figured they had stored her clothes.
She searched it gingerly, careful not to jar her head with her movements. She hit pay dirt on the third drawer. She couldn’t stifle a groan of frustration when she realized what she was looking at. She’d been brought in to the hospital in her pajamas.
A spaghetti strap tank top and white cotton bikini panties were hardly appropriate for her trip home. Especially on public transport. Maybe she could wear a hospital gown over them and splurge on a taxi. It would cost less than staying the night in the hospital.
It took forever to get her clothes on. She was sliding the gown back on like a robe when the curtain swept back with a series of metallic clicks.
“What are you doing out of bed?”
She looked up and stared, not able to comprehend the vision before her. It was Hotwire, and his eyes were blazing blue fire at her.
“I’m getting dressed.” She paused and took a deep breath, then let it out. “So I can go home.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“It feels like it got knocked out of my head,” she admitted.
“Claire, damn it to hell.”
She’d never heard Hotwire swear. It sounded strange and gave the impression he was really rattled. He didn’t stop with one word, either, but let out a string of obscenities that would have made any dockworker proud.
He bit off a final four-letter utterance and glared at her. “You were going to go back to the house where you were attacked…by yourself…in this condition?”
“I can’t afford a night in the hospital.”
“Can you afford to die?”
She didn’t answer. There was nothing to say to that. He wouldn’t understand the mentality that came from going where you had to when you knew you had no options. Most people took their personal safety for granted, assuming it was theirs by right. She knew it was a luxury a person could not always afford.
For no reason she could understand, her eyes filled with tears. And it made her mad. She never cried, darn it. Tears were for the weak and she was not weak. Not like her parents. She’d proven that time and again. And she’d keep proving it until she believed it.
He said something under his breath and then strong hands gently helped her pull the gown on. He tugged it close and tied the dangling strings to keep it that way.
When he was done, he carefully lifted her into his arms. “It’ll be okay, sugar.”
The doctor came back in. He took in the sight of Hotwire standing there, holding her in his arms like a small child, though even in her awful condition she felt one hundred percent female, being held like this.
He smiled wryly. “I take it she’ll be going home with you.”
“Why isn’t she staying for overnight observation?”
“She refused. She also refused the MRI I recommended.” Evidently, the doctor believed he’d found an ally in Hotwire.
Hotwire looked down at her. “Why not?”
“I don’t have medical insurance.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t blast her like she expected. “I’ll take her home with me.”
She smiled, relieved. “Thank you.”
“After the MRI,” he said grimly.
Now it was the doctor’s turn to smile.
Claire was almost asleep when they got to Hotwire’s hotel, and she let him pick her up out of the car and carry her to the elevator without so much as a murmur.
Once inside, she stirred in his arms. “Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for having an extra person in your room?”
“It’s not a problem.”
She sighed. “I’m surprised no one said anything when you carried me through the lobby. The desk clerk sure looked hard.”
“I’m positive he’s seen stranger.”
“Than a guest dressed like a hospital patient reject?”
“Sure. This is downtown Portland, not Mayberry. I’ve been here less than a week and I’ve seen no less than a dozen heavily pierced punk rockers, a group of Goth vampire wannabes, and a woman who was at least sixty wearing a pair of pink satin hot pants and a studded black leather jacket.”
Claire’s head snuggled trustingly against his shoulder. “If you say so.”
He let them into his room and carried her through to the bedroom. It was hard to force himself to lay her down on the bed when they got there, but he did it.
He pulled back the covers and then moved her under them. “I’ll get you something to drink.”
When he came back with a glass of juice from the minibar, she was fighting to keep her eyes open. “I don’t have any clothes.”
“I’ll go to the house and get some for you.”
“Thanks…” She sighed. “Need my backpack, too,” she slurred.
If she thought he was going to let her study in this condition, she was nuts, but he could get the backpack and even her laptop if having them with her made her feel better.
“I’ll get it.”
She picked fretfully at the hospital gown. “Don’t like this.”
Neither did he, not nearly as much as what was underneath, but he didn’t relish helping her take it off, either. Seeing her practically naked wasn’t going to do much for his self-control. The only thing saving them both was her obvious physical frailty. Stifling a sigh and making it a point not to look at her body, he helped her untie the gown and pull it off.
She rolled onto her side facing him, her pretty mouth turned down at the edges. “It hurts, Hotwire.”
“I’m sorry.” She’d already