How to Score by Robin Wells Page B

be observed overnight. If you don’t have someone who can watch you at home, then I’ll need to admit you to the hospital.”
    Hell. It was a good thing he’d kept the double-vision problem to himself.
    “I’ll stay with him,” Sammi piped up.
    “Excellent.” The doctor nodded approvingly and turned toward her. “You’ll need to wake him every three hours during the night to make sure he can wake normally, but other than that, it’s pretty much a matter of just keeping an eye on him. You’ll need to make sure he doesn’t fall unconscious again, isn’t nauseous, or doesn’t start having vision problems.”
    “Okay. I can handle it.”
    He smiled at Chase. “Looks like you’re in good hands.”
    Yeah,
Chase thought morosely.
The hands of the grim reaper.
    The stool creaked as the doctor rose. “I’ll have the nurse bring you the instructions and discharge papers. We’ll forward your records to your personal physician, and you’ll need to make an appointment to see him in a week to get your stitches removed.”
    The doctor exited the room, his coat flapping like stork wings.
    Sammi rose and stepped toward him. As she drew nearer, he saw two of her. “Thanks for bailing me out,” he said.
    “No problem. I can stay with you the whole weekend, if you like.”
    Oh, God—that would be the end of him. “No. Just get me home, and I can take it from there.”
    “You heard the doctor. I intend to see to it that you follow his orders.” Her two foreheads suddenly puckered. “Is there someone else you want me to call—your mom, maybe, or a girlfriend?”
    “No.”
    Both Sammis stood still, their four hands clasped together. “Well, if you don’t want me to stay, I’ll hire a private nurse.”
    Oh, hell. She thought he didn’t want her around because she was so accident-prone. This was not the way to help her over her phobia. “No. No private nurses.”
    “Okay, then. I’ll take you home and stay with you as long as you need me.”
    His head hurt too much to argue, and he’d need a ride home, anyway. They could continue this discussion later.
    A middle-aged nurse with a handful of papers came into the room, looking as if she were being shadowed by a blurry Siamese twin. She handed the papers to him. “I need your signature on the release form.”
    It took several attempts to figure out which line was real. He finally aimed between the two and scrawled his name. His signature magically reproduced itself.
    The nurse turned to Sammi and handed her the other papers, addressing her as if she were his mother or—God help him!—his wife. “You can give him Tylenol every four hours. And during the night, you’ll need to wake him every three hours to make sure he can become conscious normally.”
    “It’s not normal for anyone to become conscious every three hours during the night,” Chase grumbled.
    Sammi shot him a look. “It would be abnormal to continue sleeping when I’m trying to wake you up.”
    That was certainly a fact. His gaze locked on her long, smooth, all-the-way-to-New-York-and-back legs. Even though she appeared to have four of them, he was sure she’d have no trouble keeping him awake all night.
    “For the next few days, you shouldn’t make any important decisions or sign any legally binding papers. Any questions?” The nurse looked briskly from Sammi to Chase.
    “Does he have any physical restrictions?” Sammi asked.
    You read my mind, babe.
    “He’s supposed to rest. That means staying in bed today and taking it easy tomorrow and the day after. He should probably give it about a week before he resumes strenuous physical activity.” The nurse headed for the door. “I’ll go get a wheelchair.”
    Chase pulled the ice pack from his head and started to ease himself off the table. “I can walk just fine.”
    “Maybe so, but you’re doing as little of it as possible today. And you’re taking a wheelchair to the exit, or else you’re not going anywhere.”
    What the hell;