"Mary Janice Davidson - Love Lies" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

patient?

He got up and stepped outside to see if Dr. Langenfeld was on his way, when he heard a shrill, “Look
out!” and then felt a walloping pain in his knees. The impact drove him to the carpet.

Holding both knees and swallowing an undignified yelp of agony, he rolled over on his back and glared
at the reckless driver. She was sitting in her wheelchair, both hands clapped over her mouth, looking at
him with wide, shocked eyes.

Immediately, he swallowed half the things he wanted to say. He was a bastard, at least, according to his
ex-wife and her lawyers, but he wasn’t mean enough to scream at a woman in a wheelchair. Especially
one who looked as horrified as she did, if the size of those baby blues was any indication.

“If you’re late, don’t let me keep you,” he managed to say without gasping. His knees were throbbing in
perfect rhythm with his heart. He was afraid to let go of them to see how badly she’d shredded his
slacks. But not knowing was actually worse, so he cautiously let go, sat up, and looked. Amazing! The
fabric wasn’t torn. Neither, presumably, was his skin. And now that he thought about it, he’d taken
harder knocks in the dojo. But there, at least, one expected it. Hospitals were supposed to be safe
places. “Were you going to therapy?” He gentled his tone, not wanting to frighten her further.

She made a strangled sound and he climbed to his feet, forcing a smile. “It’s all right. No harm done,” he
lied, certain he’d be limping the rest of the week. “Don’t get upset, now.”

She finally dropped her hands—and started laughing. He saw at once that she hadn’t been frightened at
all, that she’d been covering her mouth in an attempt to swallow the giggles before they could escape. By
the time she finished she was slumped in her wheelchair, wiping her streaming eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, “but you—oh, God! You went over like a bowling pin. And the look on
your…” She snorted and appeared ready to go off into still more gales of laughter, but he interrupted her.

“As an apology that leaves a lot to be desired. You…”Should watch where you’re going , he’d been
about to say, but that wasn’t the sort of thing one said to someone who didn’t have the use of her legs.
Perhaps he should have been more careful—they were in a hospital, after all. “You could have been hurt.
You should be more careful.”

She grinned up at him and her great looks hit him like a blow. She had rich brown hair that glowed with
red highlights, even under poor fluorescent lighting. Her eyes were pale blue, almost icy, and if she
weren’t smiling they would have seemed cold. And her smile! Her mouth was wide and mobile and her
lips were full, the upper lip a near-perfect cupid’s bow. It was a mouth meant for staring at, for
worshipping, for kissing. She was very pale, but her skin had a pinkish undertone, giving her face a
healthy glow. In short, she was the best looking woman he’d seen outside Hollywood, much less within
the bowels of The Carlson-Musch Institute for Mental Health.

He realized he was staring with his mouth open and said again, harsher than he intended, “You should be
more careful.”

“Don’t get huffy with me,” she said tartly—and unrepentantly! “You’re the one who didn’t look both
ways before exiting the office. Tall people, I swear. They can’t see below five feet.”
“We can when we get run down like a gopher in the road,” Victor snapped back, then immediately felt
bad. No one liked it when he was angry, ex-wives, divorce lawyers, aikido partners, and now she would