Ryan released her with a curse under his breath, maybe at himself for losing control, maybe at whoever was headed their way. Maybe at her for getting him all stirred up again.
As quickly as she could manage, she unfastened his buttons, feeling aroused and needy and desperate to finish what they’d started. Then she gently tugged the shirt off his shoulders, her hands brushing against his heated skin. She glanced up at him, hoping he was ignoring her. But he wasn’t. His gaze still smoldered with lusty fascination. She cleared her throat and slid the shirt down his arms, trying not to hurt his injured arm.
He sucked in his breath. “Somehow, I don’t see the nurse removing the patient’s clothes on a regular basis unless the guy’s half dead.”
Her face flushed when it shouldn’t have, but she wasn’t going to let him stop her from doing her job. “You’re wounded, Ryan McKinley. It would be too difficult for you to unbutton your shirt with one hand. What am I supposed to do? Watch you struggle in pain? Besides I’m not taking off your trousers.”
He chuckled wolfishly. Hell, the way they’d been going, she might have done just that!
“What is transpiring between us is strictly business.” At least that had been the plan before he pulled her between his legs and began kissing her.
Whoever was walking toward the room had already passed by, and Carol took a relieved breath. Attempting to ignore the way Ryan heated her to the core and to do her duty as a trained nurse, she wiped away the blood on his arm, glad to see that the bullet had only grazed him like he’d said. Given werewolves’ advanced healing capabilities, the wound should heal sufficiently by morning.
Ryan took hold of her free hand and looked into her eyes as if he was ready to analyze her every reaction.
“Did you see any visions of this or of anything else?” he asked.
Unsure whether he still didn’t believe her, she sighed. “No. If I had, I would have warned you.” She pulled away from him and cleansed the wound. She thought of Rosalind’s call to her, but before that, her mother’s and planned to ask him about both.
“By the way, why did you call my mother?”
Ryan didn’t look in the least bit sheepish, which surprised her. “I called to see if she believed you had psychic abilities after she had sent you to that damned psychiatrist.”
“And if she didn’t believe in my talents?”
“I’d tell her what a marvel you are.”
She stared at him, her lips parted. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Only she hung up on me, which didn’t bode well.”
“What difference does it make if she believes me or not?”
He rested his hands on her hips and pulled her close to his body. “Because we’re dating. Remember?”
She gave him a ladylike snort. “Right.” Yet it gave her hope he truly did believe her, and her whole spirit lifted.
Before she could ruin the feeling and ask him what he’d said to his sister about her that was not complimentary, Doc Weber opened the door. The doctor raised his brows to see Ryan on the exam table and Carol standing between his legs, ministering to him. She was grateful Doc hadn’t seen them kissing earlier.
She noticed how tired Doc looked, with dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders stooped. He was a red from Lelandi’s former pack, here to doctor the patients until they could find a gray. But he planned to stay until Lelandi had her babies. He’d taken Carol under his wing because she was a nurse, newly turned, and a red like him.
Because she’d been turned by one of his former pack, Doc considered Carol like one of his family. Since he’d never had a mate and no offspring, she and Lelandi were like the daughters he’d never had. That meant he kept giving them fatherly lectures. Since Lelandi was mated, though, she didn’t receive as many as Carol did.
Carol moved a respectable distance from Ryan while Doc examined his wound. “I thought you were posted here as her bodyguard. What happened?” His tone was accusatory. What good would Ryan be if he didn’t stay and watch over her?
“Tom was keeping an eye on her while I took after the men. By the looks of it, I should have stayed. They’re intent on shooting anyone who tries to stop their mission, but they don’t have the nerve to fight wolf to wolf. You probably know them. Three reds from Lelandi’s and your former pack?”
The doc peered closely at the wound and shook his head. “The men who were left behind were decent sorts. None of them would do a thing like this.”
Except North? And the others with him had to be from the same pack.
Ryan pursed his lips tight and didn’t say anything to Doc, but Carol thought he wanted to. How could the men be “decent sorts” when they had taken Carol from the house like they did? And they had to be from Lelandi’s pack. No other red pack lived in the area. And what about this latest clash with North and Tom?
“Not a silver bullet, anyway. So it appears they don’t mean to kill anyone,” Doc said.
“That’s good to know.” Carol’s tone was filled with relief but concern, too, that this wasn’t ending anytime soon.
A flash of memory of the shooting she’d witnessed at the hospital the previous fall suddenly swamped her with regret. The doctor had lain dead on the exam-room floor, his nurse just as unresponsive. She wasn’t sure what had brought the memory back. The attack on Tom maybe. Or the one on Ryan since he’d been shot, or both. Or the idea that it would happen again and be fatal this time?
Carol turned away quickly as tears filled her eyes, not wanting Doc and Ryan to see her like this—unable to control her emotions. Everyone expected her to be strong, both in the workplace and around family. She was the one who held up through any crisis. When her sister died, she had helped her parents get through it. She had to be resilient when others needed her.
Doc cleared his throat. “Just apply some of that salve and bandage it, and he should be back to doing his job.”
“Yes, Dr. Weber.” Carol tried to hide the hitch in her voice. She hated when she got emotional on the job.
“Carol,” Doc said, his voice soft and consoling.
Unable to look him directly in the eye, she fought to hold back the burning tears. “Yes, Doctor?”
He looked sympathetically at her and then patted her shoulder. “Got another case of the flu to look after.” He walked out of the room, his movement slower and stiffer than usual.
She wanted to tell him he needed to take care of himself. That he should get more rest, but she knew it would be futile. She wondered, though, what he’d intended to say. That the other doctor and nurse dying hadn’t been her fault?
No, it wasn’t her mistake, she tried to convince herself. The miner who killed them was the one responsible. But if she’d only raised the alarm somehow before he shot them…
Still, maybe that’s why the memory haunted her again. That it had been her fault, just like Tom’s having been attacked was, too. And if the reds hadn’t been trying to take her hostage, Ryan wouldn’t have been harmed, either.
“Carol?” Ryan said, drawing her from her mental self-bashing. He left the exam table and touched her arm. “Are you all right?”
“They died because of me.” She pulled away from him and stood in front of a supply drawer, staring at it but not seeing it.
“The former doctor and that nurse?” His voice was gentle, and no matter how badly she felt, his tone was like a mental salve. He ran his hand over her back in a gentle caress.
Carol let out her breath. “Yes.”