“Excuse me?”
What was going on? Janet stared at Max in disbelief. In the six years of working in the ER, never had a patient asked her this question, and now it happened twice in less than two minutes.
She rubbed her arm where the other man had grabbed her. If it wasn’t for the fact that the medical staff and security surrounded her she would have been alarmed. Hell, she was alarmed. The man in the hallway had been anything but polite. She didn’t reveal her schedule to him, resulting in a heated stare from the man. Janet tried to be nice about it, but it didn’t seem to work. She told him she was involved, which was a complete lie.
Now, Mr. Naked Man asked her the same question.
“I asked when you got off work. Maybe I could buy you breakfast, for taking such great care of me.”
Janet stood back, folded her arms across her chest and made a show out of sweeping his body with her eyes. “I’ll admit you’re good looking, but looks won’t buy you a cup of coffee in this town.”
He flashed his teeth and, dear God, the man had dimples¯ really cute dimples¯which stood in dark contrast to his masculine features. Janet shifted to her other foot in an attempt to appear unaffected by his smile.
“I think I can afford to buy you a cup of coffee.”
“Really? So you choose to walk the streets of LA naked in the middle of the night?”
Now it was him, shifting in his shoes, or rather, hospital slippers. He kept his smile in place despite his state of undress. “Maybe I can explain my, er, situation over eggs benedict.”
She was tempted, even with him dressed in a hospital issue gown open in the back, she was tempted. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? You said yourself I’m good looking, and I know you’re curious about why I ended up here.”
Janet slid the paperwork she held in front of him and handed him her pen. “Even if I wanted to, I make it a rule not to date my patients.”
“Humm...” He took the paper and signed his name, then pushed it in her direction. “I’m no longer your patient.”
Janet couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted. “Listen...” She picked up the paper and noted his name. “Mr. Ritter. I’m flattered, really I am, but I don’t think this would be a good idea.”
“I suggested breakfast, not marriage.”
“You’re wearing a hospital gown and a smile.”
“I’ll change. We can drop by my house so I can get my wallet.”
Janet narrowed her eyes. “Is this some perverse way to get a free ride home?”
“I’ll pay for gas.” His eyes locked with hers sending a chill up her spine.
“Hey Janet,” a voice called from beyond the closed curtain.
“I’ve got to go. Day shift needs report.” But her feet didn’t move. Instead, she stared at him, knowing somehow she would give in to his request, and if nothing else give him a ride home.
Something she had never done before.
“I’ll meet you outside, by your car.”
On a sigh she said, “Yeah, okay.” Janet turned away. “How do you know what I drive?”
“I don’t, but I’ll figure it out.”
Chapter Two
This was crazy. No, it was stupid. Even attractive men can be serial killers.
Janet changed into a simple pair of jeans and loose knit top. She ran a brush through her hair and slapped on some lip-gloss. Before leaving the women’s locker room, she checked her purse twice, assuring herself the mace sat at the bottom of her bag.
At the last minute, she dialed her home phone number and left a message. Just in case she ended up dead, the police would have an idea of who did it. “I’m leaving work to take Max Ritter, a patient from last night’s shift, home. I’ve got to be crazy.” She tossed the phone into her purse.
“Oh, God,” she groaned. This really is stupid.
She walked to the parking lot slower than normal. Sure enough, Mr. Naked Man leaned against her car. This time dressed in scrubs, slippers on his feet.
“I started to think you changed your mind.”
“I should.” Janet clicked her alarm key and unlocked the doors of the car. “Get in before I do.”
Tucked behind the steering wheel, Janet fastened her seatbelt. “Where do you live?”
He rambled off a few directions and a street address. Janet put the car in gear and left the parking lot.
“Nice car.”
“I like it,” she said, trying her best not to look at him.
“I didn’t see you behind the wheel of a ’Vette. You seemed to be more like a sub-compact kind of girl.”
“What’s that suppose to mean?” She dared a glance. His smug expression turned to one of innocence.
Max put his hands in the air. “It wasn’t meant as an insult.”
Janet rounded the corner a little fast; Max held the side of the door in an obvious attempt at avoiding injury. Sub-compact my foot! She smiled. “I like fast cars. My dad used to race when I was a kid. It’s in my blood, so-to-speak.”
“Humm... I’ll bet you work on it yourself.”
Janet glanced over at him again, not sure if he was mocking her. “As a matter of fact--”
“I would think after all the experience you must have taking care of accident victims, you would drive something safer,” he interrupted.
“Stupid drivers and unkempt cars get in accidents. Seldom is it solely the car’s fault. Besides, just because it will go fast, doesn’t mean I drive it fast.” She glanced down, noticed the speedometer inch toward 85 MPH, then eased up on the gas. “Tell me, Mr. Ritter.”
“Max.”
“Okay, Max. If you didn’t think I drove a Corvette, then how did you know which car was mine?”
“I have a keen sense of smell.”
Janet peered over the brim of her sunglasses. “You could smell my car on me?”
“No, I could smell you on the car.”
He was serious. He didn’t even cut a smile with his explanation. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”
Max leaned over the center console and took a deep breath through his nose. “The last thing you ate in here was a hamburger.”
“Me and half of America.”
Undaunted by her sarcasm, he went on. “Double double from In and Out without onions, fries and a diet coke.”
She knew her mouth was open, his laugh made her close it.
“How do you keep your figure eating like that? I thought nurses were all health freaks.”