Chapter 10

"I'D LIKE to request Nurse Georgia Adams," Ken told the woman signing in volunteer donors.

She brazenly looked him up and down. "Are you a friend of Georgia's?"

No, but we've had sex. "She and I are acquainted."

The woman's face registered understanding. "Oh, wait. Are you the cop who nearly got her fired?"

He smiled wryly. "Well, I do have other claims to fame."

The woman eyed the nightstick at his side and lifted one thin eyebrow. "I just bet you do. Right this way, Officer Medlock."

He followed the slender woman, amused that she appeared to know Georgia and Georgia's business. It occurred to him that the woman might be helpful. "Are you the friend of hers who's getting married?"

"Oh, no, that's Stacey Alexander. I'm Toni. Toni Wheeler."

He smiled. "Nice to meet you, Toni."

"Likewise," she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

He saw Georgia before she saw them. She was bandaging the arm of a middle-aged man who'd just finished giving blood. Her face was flushed with a smile as she pointed in the direction of a refreshments table. Ken experienced a stab of envy—he wanted to be the recipient of that radiant smile. Her profile was classically beautiful, and he asked himself for the umpteenth time why Robbie Boy hadn't slapped a ring on her dialing finger.

"Georgia!" Toni said sweetly, "look who stopped by."

She turned her head, and her smile dropped.

On the other hand, maybe her mood swings made Robbie Boy dizzy.

"Hi," he said, inclining his head.

"Hello."

Brrr . If the city could bottle that chill, the heat wave would be alleviated.

"Georgia," Toni said in a chiding voice, "you didn't tell me your cop was so cute."

"Is he? I hadn't noticed."

Toni gave Georgia a strange look, then handed her his sign-in sheet and scampered away.

"I'm not cute?" he asked, pulling his best hurt expression.

"What are you doing here?"

He swept his arm over the impromptu clinic. "I came to do my civic duty."

She offered a wry smile. "Are you sure your blood isn't too hot after your little birthday celebration?"

Apparently, she hadn't been amused. He grinned sheepishly, holding his hat in both hands. "I'm, uh, sorry about that. My partner gets a little carried away with practical jokes."

She seemed preoccupied with his sign-in form. "Hmm."

"Anyway, I tried to find you, um, afterward, but you'd disappeared."

She glanced up. "Look, Officer, I'm busy here. If you want to give blood, lie down."

He obeyed, thinking it might be his only chance to be close to her and prone at the same time. She put the blood pressure cuff on his arm, her mouth set in a straight line as she listened with her stethoscope.

He laughed. "From your expression, I must be dead."

"No, but your blood pressure is on the high side of normal. Is that typical?"

"No, it's always been perfect." But then again, his body was now trained to come alive at the sound of Georgia's voice. "Probably the excitement of the day. Can I still give?"

She nodded. "But have your blood pressure checked again in a few days just to be safe. Roll up your sleeve, please."

He unbuttoned the cuff of his blue uniform shirt. "We didn't get to have that hot dog. What time do you get off?" Besides every time we talk on the phone.

"Not for a few hours," she said, her expression one of total lack of interest.

The woman would take a scalpel to him if she knew he knew the sounds she made when she climaxed.

"And," she added, "you'll need to eat something as soon as you're finished here."

He didn't push, only because he had the promise of her call again tonight, assuming she hadn't yet figured out she was dialing the wrong number. Besides, the more time they spent together, the more likely she was to recognize his voice. Although, he realized their nightly phone rendezvous were numbered, since her boyfriend would surely call her soon and she'd realize her mistake.

She crossed her killer legs as she made check marks on his form. The woman was infinitely more titillating than that two-bit dancer the guys had hired.

Georgia leaned into him, sharing a whiff of her subtle fragrance, then tied a thick rubber band just above his elbow. She had a European look about her, with flawless skin, sleepy eyes and full lips. Exotic, in an understated way. Not the kind of woman who would stand out in a room, unless a man was extremely observant. Her hair was rolled into a dark tight knot on her crown. He longed to see the silky length falling around her shoulders, like it would be tonight when she called.

Her fingers skimmed across his skin with the touch of a butterfly, and to his amazement, he began to grow hard. He slid his hat across his lap as inconspicuously as possible to cover the telltale evidence, but she saw the movement and frowned.

He averted his gaze and whistled tunelessly until he had himself back under control. The woman was addictive.

She turned over his arm and rather painfully flicked her finger against a network of veins at the bend. "There's a good one," she said, the hint of a smile on her mouth.

Of course, when she held up the needle she was going to stick into his arm, he knew why she was smiling.

"Careful, ma'am," he said. "I'm a sensitive— owwww! "

At last he was the recipient of that radiant smile. "That didn't hurt now, did it?"

He grimaced as she inserted the tube leading to a plasma bag into the end of the syringe. "Not much more than a hot poker in the eye."

"Since your blood pressure is up, you should bleed quickly," she said cheerfully.

"I suppose that's good?"

She smirked. "Unless you're run down by a police car."

He smirked back. "And brought to you for help?"

"I help any person who comes into the E.R.," she said, "even an impertinent, bossy person."

He wagged his eyebrows. "Oh, but I can be an animal sometimes."

"Just bleed, will you?"

But she seemed pleased that she'd gotten a rise out of him. The problem was, with all her fidgeting and adjusting, she was getting too much of a rise out of him. Her phone call tonight couldn't come soon enough.

"Did you find the dog's owner?" she asked.

Her voice sounded not quite friendly but... normal, at least. "I called, but Crash wasn't their dog."

"Crash?"

He shrugged his free shoulder. "Figured I'd better name the little fellow seeing as he might be staying at my place for a while."

She stroked the tube in a pulling motion, facilitating his blood being drawn into the bag. "Does that pose a problem space wise?"

A few seconds passed before he realized she was being conversational. "Um, no, my place is old, but pretty big. And it's just me living there."

"Oh."

So much for conversing. "Do you live alone?" he asked.

"That's absolutely none of your business."

He'd botched it again. "I meant do you live with your family?"

"No."

Not a chatty Cathy, this one. "Do you have a big family?"

"One sister, two nieces, all in Denver."

He remained silent in hopes she would elaborate.

"My father died several years ago, but I still have my mother. She lives with my sister most of the time."

She looked wistful and Ken thought of all the glad and sad moments in her life he would never have a chance to share, the laughter and tears he would never have a chance to witness. Georgia Adams made him feel proprietary—in a noble way, of course. Well, okay, maybe all of his intentions weren't so noble.

"How about you?" she asked.

Ken blinked, so lost in her stunning blue eyes that he'd forgotten what they'd been talking about. "How about me what?"

She sighed as if he were a half-wit. "Do you have a big family?"

"One brother, four sisters, ten nieces and nephews."

"Wow."

He took her monosyllabic response as an invitation to continue. "My folks are alive and well in Virginia. We kids are scattered, but we try to get together at least once a year."

"That's nice." She checked the bag. "And you're done—in record time, too."

Great. Just when he wanted to spend time with the woman, he'd set a record for bleeding.

She removed the catheter with deft fingers and gave him a gauze pad to press against the point of entry while she made notes on his sign-in form.

"Would you like to have dinner sometime?" he blurted.

At least he'd succeeded in getting her attention. He held his breath, but she shook her head. "I can't. Rob and I are... exclusive."

But we're good together, he wanted to shout. You've been sharing your fantasies with me. "Did your boyfriend make it back to town?" He knew he was treading on dangerous territory, but he couldn't help himself.

"Yes. But I forgot to mention your name to him."

He squinted. Was she blushing? "Don't worry about it," he murmured, sitting up. He wanted to pull her close for a kiss, Rob and the people around them be damned. Instead he rolled down his sleeve and fumbled with the button.

Then to his surprise, she stilled his hands. "Let me." He raised his eyebrows, but she simply nodded toward the registration desk. "The line is backing up."

Oh, well, regardless of her motivation, Georgia made buttoning his shirt cuff an erotic act, fingering open the tiny hole and inserting the little gold disc. Ken wiped a film of perspiration from his forehead just watching her nimble fingers and knowing where they'd been.

"There." She gave him a brief smile that stole moisture from his mouth. "Thanks for giving—the blood bank is dangerously low."

"Glad to help. I wish there was more I could do."

"Maybe you could encourage your fellow officers to come down."

Never one to miss an opportunity, he grinned. "How many pints do you need?"

Her teeth were white, even, glistening. "As many as you can get."

"If I can get one hundred donors down here, will you have dinner with me?"

She bit into her bottom lip. "No. But I'll buy you that hot dog."

His heart fluttered with possibility. "Deal." He pushed himself to his feet. "I hope you have enough blood bags."

Her smile shook him. "Looks like I'll be working late."

He hesitated. Did that mean she wouldn't be calling him tonight? "Did you have plans?"

Georgia shook her head. "I'm supposed to call Rob when I get home is all."

Ken's mouth quirked with smug satisfaction. "Well, when you talk to him tonight, tell him I think he's a lucky man." He put on his hat, then touched the brim. "Ma'am."