This Heart of Mine by Brenda Novak Page B

wasn’t entirely due to her injuries. She was more upset and disappointed than anything else. “Where are we?”
    “Dr. Harris’s. It’s Sunday. We’re not going to catch him at his office.”
    “We can’t bother anyone at home!” she protested, but Riley was already getting out of the truck.
    “Damn it,” Phoenix muttered as he hurried to the door—and felt even worse when the doctor answered, looked out at her and nodded to Riley. She could tell from the expression on Riley’s face that she was going in.
    When he came for her, he didn’t help her out, as she’d expected. He carried her again, only this time it was worse because he was bare-chested. She had his shirt wadded up in her hand.
    She could feel his warm skin against her cheek, so she tried to move her head away from him. But that hurt so much, she couldn’t manage it for long, and he seemed to grow impatient with her attempt to avoid contact, because he tightened his grip so she couldn’t manage it at all.
    “You took a hard knock,” the doctor said as they entered the house.
    “It’s not bad,” she said.
    He motioned Riley through to the kitchen and followed closely behind them. “Let’s take a look.”
    The doctor pulled the bloody T-shirt away the moment Riley sat her at the table. “We’ll have to clean you up before we can tell what we’re dealing with.”
    She steeled herself against the pounding in her head, which was getting worse now that the shock was wearing off. “It’s just a little cut.”
    “I’m guessing that little cut needs a couple of stitches,” he said drily.
    “A butterfly bandage will do. Then I’ll get out of your house. It’s Sunday. I’m sure this isn’t what you want to be doing.”
    “Relax,” he said. “It shouldn’t take long.”
    Even if it went quickly, she had nothing to look at other than Riley, who stood nearby, clearly unhappy, with his arms folded over his chest.
    The doctor cleaned her wound and then deliberated as to whether he’d stitch it. She hadn’t seen a man in any state of undress for so long that she was tempted to stare at Riley. So she did her best to focus on her feet, her lap, the floor, the doctor’s everyday clothes, especially the house shoes he wore. In spite of that, she’d gotten a long enough glimpse of Riley to be able to tell that all the physical changes since high school had been for the better. His work kept him in great shape. There was no doubt about that. Most women would find him extremely attractive.
    But not her, she told herself. There was no way she could afford even the slightest admiration or attraction.
    “You’ll heal with less of a scar if I stitch it,” the doctor told her.
    “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be okay. Just put a Band-Aid on it,” she said. “I have other scars.”
    Riley asked Dr. Harris for a minute alone with him. Then they both went into the living room, where they spoke in such low voices she couldn’t hear them.
    God, she hated this. It went against everything she’d promised herself she’d do when she got out. She did
not
want to give Riley any reason to complain about her, or be unhappy that she was now living in town. Didn’t want to cost him any money or aggravation. She just wanted to steer clear of him and have peace between them.
    “The stitches won’t take more than a few seconds. I keep a bag here at home,” the doctor said when they walked back into the room.
    She wanted to continue her argument, but they were obviously united against her, or he wouldn’t have come back intent on giving her stitches.
    She’d have to figure out a way to pay for his services, she decided. At this point, that was the only dignified course of action. So she kept her mouth shut and let him work. And when he was finished, she allowed Riley to drive her home.
    Fortunately, her mother’s dogs weren’t out when they turned into the property, but all the junk she’d been embarrassed to have Kyle see was right there for