SAY AHHH... Read online

  "I've changed my mind about the exam," Sarah declared, conscious of her blazing face and the hitch in her voice. "I'd rather wait until Dr. Brenkowski returns."

  Dr. Wade stared at her in surprise.

  His nurse looked more surprised than he did. "I can assure you, Miss Flowers, that Dr. Wade is one of the finest doctors I've ever worked with," she proclaimed. "He graduated at the top of his class from Harvard, and worked in a busy Boston hospital before he—"

  "Gladys, it's okay." He touched her arm to stop her, but kept his gaze trained solely on Sarah. "It's your prerogative, of course, Ms. Flowers, to see whichever doctor you want. And Doc Brenkowski's a good one. But I have to warn you, he won't be back for another month or so."

  A month! How could she wait that long to get an answer to such an important question? On the other hand, she couldn't bring herself to allow this vitally handsome young doctor with his heart-stopping stare to examine her so intimately … or to learn that she knew nothing about herself. "A month will be fine," she heard herself assure him.

  The nurse looked ready to defend her beloved Dr. Wade again. He himself, however, looked inexplicably relieved. Relieved! Had he expected her to cause him some kind of trouble?

  "At the very least, I should take a look at your injuries," he offered, "to make sure there's not something interfering with the healing process. I'd also like to run tests regarding those dizzy spells."

  "Actually, my injuries aren't bothering me all that much," she demurred. "And the dizzy spells—"

  "Could be dangerous." He rested his knuckles against his hips, and a muscle flexed in his squared jaw. "This is where I have to insist. If Dr. Brenkowski is your physician, then I'm standing in for him right now, and I'm telling you that you need tests. The dizziness is probably caused by the altitude change, but I want to make sure. You also need bed rest—at least a couple days of it. You're showing signs of physical exhaustion."

  "Exhaustion!" She hadn't expected that, even though she hadn't been sleeping well and her workload had been strenuous.

  "You are going to cooperate, Ms. Flowers, aren't you?"

  He looked so determined to have his way that Sarah had to smile. "Yes, of course, Dr. Wade. I really wasn't doubting your medical expertise, you know."

  It took a moment, but his stern expression finally mellowed, although only a little. His gaze swept across her mouth, her smile. Without offering a smile in reply, he uttered almost inaudibly, "I never thought you were."

  Dr. Connor Wade shut the door of his office, dropped down into the chair behind his desk and released a long, tortured breath. He felt as if he'd just gone ten rounds with a heavyweight.

  What the hell had happened to him in there?

  Whatever it was, it had never happened before. He'd treated plenty of young, beautiful women over the years and hadn't once felt anything more than a professional interest. This time, though, when he entered his examination room and saw Sarah Flowers sitting there, the appointment had gotten off on entirely the wrong track.

  He'd known he was in trouble the moment his gaze had met hers. Something about her had stirred him in a deeply personal way. He'd wanted to touch her. And after he had touched her, he'd wanted to keep on touching her…

  He shut his eyes, leaned his forehead against his clasped fists and cursed himself. Had she sensed his interest? Was that why she'd asked for Doc Brenkowski? Whatever the reason, he was glad that she had. If she hadn't, he probably would have stopped the exam himself.

  Probably. He honestly couldn't be sure of that, though… Which scared the hell out of him.

  Why had she affected him so strongly?

  Oh, she was beautiful, all right, with her heavy cloud of silky dark hair falling past her shoulders, her creamy complexion begging to be touched, and her wide, silver-gray eyes seeming to look clear through to his soul. But physical beauty had never been enough to elicit more than a brief acknowledgement from him before—at least, not while he was in his doctor mode.

  Something had gone wrong. Drastically wrong.

  The feel of her face between his hands, the fragrance of her hair, the response that had flared in his gut as their gazes held—all lingered in his mind, taunting him.

  When he remembered the slow path her hand had taken down the curve of her hip and along her thigh, desire coursed through him again, startling him with its heat.

  She hadn't meant to be provocative—he knew at least that much about her. He'd had more than enough experience, especially since returning to Sugar Falls, with women intent on provocation. A couple of times, he'd entered the examination room to find one of his attractive neighbors striking some sultry pose on the examination table, a sensuous perfume wafting around her like a warning flag.

  Pulled muscles seemed to be the ailment of choice among the hometown women lately. That thought brought a rueful twitch to his lips. Gladys had been useful in defusing potentially seductive scenarios. He'd never once become aroused.

  Until today. Until he'd gazed into Sarah Flowers's eyes and had wanted more than anything in the world to touch her.

  No, he wouldn't have continued with the exam. She needed medical attention, though. She seemed to be suffering from exhaustion, and might have re-injured the wounds she'd mentioned. He also felt certain that she was stressed-out. He wondered why.

  Then there was the request Gladys had recorded on her chart: "Wants to know if doctor can determine whether she's had a baby." Sarah had claimed she'd been asking in a general way. Why, then, had she told Gladys that she wanted to know everything he could tell her about herself?

  When he'd asked if she'd given birth, she hadn't answered. Could she possibly not know? If so, it would mean a serious loss of memory. But she'd denied experiencing any memory loss from the head trauma.

  Ms. Sarah Flowers did indeed present a mystery.

  He'd told her to leave a number where he could call her with results of tests Gladys had administered. He'd also told her he wanted to see her in a week to follow up on her dizzy spells.

  The number she'd left wasn't a valid one, and she hadn't set a follow-up appointment. She also hadn't left an address other than a post-office box, where they'd have to mail the results of the tests. At least it was a local post-office box, he mused, staring down at the chart he'd dropped onto his desk. Which meant she lived here in town.

  Which meant he'd see her again, in one way or another.

  He smirked and shook his head at himself, bemused by the anticipation that thought provoked. He'd apparently been without a woman for too long. He hadn't dated since he'd been home, which was almost three months now.

  Why hadn't he? Part of the reason he'd come back to Sugar Falls was to find someone—a good, honest, uncomplicated woman. Uncomplicated was the key word. He'd had all he could take of the other kind. The convoluted relationships he'd found in Boston had taught him a lesson or two … and left him with an empty, lonely feeling that he couldn't quite shake.

  He'd thought that coming home might help. So far, it hadn't.

  He had no one to blame but himself for his lack of female company. It was high time he started accepting the invitations cast his way, many from women whose families he'd known for years—women who understood the life he meant to make for himself, who enjoyed the sense of kinship and community in Sugar Falls. Women who had no hidden agendas.

  The last thing he needed was sexual involvement with a silver-eyed stranger whose gaze simmered with secrets.

  But those secrets intrigued him. She intrigued him. And the idea of sexual involvement with her made his blood run hot.

  He continued poring over her chart.

  "You told me he'd be grandfatherly. I took that to mean old, Annie. Old, sweet and wise. Not young, handsome and sexy."

  Annie Tompkins shrugged. "I thought Doc Brenkowski would be there. I forgot about Connor Wade sharing a practice with him now. But so what if the doctor is young and sexy? That's no reason to chicken out of an exam you really need."
r />   "I didn't chicken out. I postponed it until the doctor of my choice returns to town."

  "You chickened out." Before another word could leave Sarah's mouth, Annie held up a halting hand, squared her freckled jaw and squinted against the May sunshine streaming through her open kitchen windows. "No excuses. You march back into that doctor's office, young lady, and have your injuries examined." In mock sternness, Annie added, "Don't make me use force."

  Sarah sat back in her chair, relaxing for the first time since leaving Dr. Wade's office that morning. She couldn't imagine this petite retired schoolteacher using force of any kind other than persuasion. In Annie Tompkins, however, persuasion was a force to be reckoned with—the one that had brought Sarah to this quaint mountain town after the Denver hospital had released her.

  Breathing in the heady perfume of crabapple, hawthorn and plum blossoms that scented the breeze blowing through the windows, Sarah thought about how glad she was that she'd come home with Annie. Although she hadn't allowed herself to get acquainted with the people of Sugar Falls, the place itself had helped calm her. She felt relatively safe here in this tiny community tucked away in the Colorado Rockies.

  Taking advantage of a few stolen moments before returning to the job she'd held for two long weeks, Sarah enjoyed being back in Annie's house again, sipping a freshly brewed cup of her herbal tea. Her employer's grand mansion, luxurious though it was, didn't seem nearly as welcoming. "I'm fine, Annie. Really."

  "Fine!" The sun glowed in a halo around Annie's reddish curls, making her look like an exasperated angel in gray sweats. "Just yesterday you got so dizzy, you nearly fell into a laundry basket, according to Lorna Hampton."

  Sarah frowned. Her employer hadn't had any business telling Annie about the dizzy spell. "The nurse put me through tests and gave me vitamins to take. The doctor thinks the dizziness is caused by the altitude change, and maybe exhaustion. I'll drink more water, get some rest and be just fine."

  "Exhaustion? Lorna's working you too hard, isn't she?"

  "Of course not. I enjoy work. I prefer keeping busy. I just haven't been sleeping well, that's all." Which was the truth. The questions and uncertainty about her past kept her awake long into the night, every night … and when sleep finally came, the nightmares woke her.

  "You're too stressed-out, and it's all my fault."

  "Don't start that again."

  "It's true." Annie's thin, freckled face once again reflected the guilt and concern that had ridden so heavily on her throughout the six weeks of their acquaintance. No matter how often Sarah assured her that she didn't blame her for the accident, Annie tormented herself with guilt. "I'm so sorry, Sarah. If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't be in this awful predicament. If only I'd been paying closer attention when you stumbled out into that street."

  "The accident was my fault, not yours. If your car hadn't hit me, another one would have." Sarah reached for her friend's hands and warmly held them. "You've been an angel, Annie. You took me to the hospital, stayed with me the entire three days, paid all the bills, brought me to your home, nursed me back to health, bought me clothes and helped me find a job."

  "Yeah, a job that's driving you to exhaustion." She shook her head sadly. "You're not the housemaid type … and Lorna can't be easy to work for. She's a snob, and her boys are holy terrors. I know she expects you to baby-sit, even though it wasn't part of the job description."

  "The job has been fine. I can't tell you how grateful I am to have found it." Jobs, especially ones that included room and board, weren't easy to come by without a work history, references or a social security number.

  Annie refused to be pacified. Worry creased her forehead and lined her mouth. "I know you don't like to talk about it, Sarah, but it's been six weeks and you still haven't remembered who you are, where you lived, or anything. I've searched the missing-persons reports over the Internet, I've driven around Denver to police stations and looked at dozens of photos, but I haven't come up with a single clue." She hesitated, and Sarah stiffened, guessing what she'd say next. "I think it's time to go to the authorities or to the media about your amnesia."

  "No." A chill of dread went through Sarah. She couldn't tolerate the idea of advertising her weakness to the world and waiting for a stranger to step up and claim her. "I'm not ready to tell anyone yet."

  "You're still afraid, aren't you?"

  Sarah hesitated, wishing she could evade the question. "Someone was chasing me when I ran out into that street, Annie. I don't remember who or why, but I remember the feeling of utter panic, and knowing that I had to get away. You said it yourself—it looked like I was being chased."

  "That's true." Annie regarded her in sympathetic dismay. "Then again, you might have been running for a cab or something. Your fear might be a symptom from the head trauma. After all, it was bad enough to cause amnesia."

  "I'm sure someone was chasing me. Someone angry, ruthless and violent." She shuddered at the shadow memory that continued to haunt her dreams. Her phantom pursuer might still be hunting for her. "Until I remember more about the situation, I won't go to the authorities or the media. But I do plan to start searching for clues about my past. I'll go back to Denver, to the street where it happened, and see if any memories come back."

  "That might work," agreed Annie, although the worry remained on her gently lined face. "But how will you get there? You can't drive, and I won't be here to drive you. Ted insists we leave for our camping trip tomorrow. He's been planning it all year, and I can't talk him out of it."

  "Go and have a good time, for heaven's sake. You need the break as much as he does. And please don't worry about me. I'll find a ride when I'm ready to go back to the scene of the accident. And maybe more memories will return on their own." Sarah smiled, determined to be optimistic. "Someone might even issue a bulletin about my disappearance, and I'll learn everything about myself."

  Annie nodded and smiled, but Sarah saw the doubt in her eyes. Hurt flickered through her at the thought that this newfound friend might be the only one in the world who cared about her. "I don't want you worrying, Annie."

  "Then at least go back to Dr. Wade and tell him about the amnesia. I don't want you passing out somewhere while I'm gone. Your head trauma was serious. You should have a doctor check it."

  "I'm sorry, but I can't." Every time she thought about confiding in someone—anyone—a terrible sense of dread stopped her. Word could get around. A story as bizarre as an amnesiac Jane Doe could end up in the newspapers, or even on television. Then who might show up at her door? Her palms began to sweat at the very thought.

  She shoved the fear to the back of her mind. She couldn't let it rule her.

  But there were practical reasons for keeping the amnesia to herself, too. It wasn't a disorder that most people understood. Annie's husband, the only other person who knew about her memory loss, still didn't trust her. She'd heard him tell Annie, "I don't buy that amnesia story. This isn't some soap opera. I'll keep my mouth shut, if you want, but I'm watching every move she makes."

  Sarah could imagine what might happen if the secret of her amnesia got around. Everyone might start suspecting her of some devious motive for coming to town. She could lose her job. Then she'd have to leave the community and start over somewhere new, alone, without knowing anyone at all.

  Not even herself.

  "At least promise me that if you have another dizzy spell," Annie implored, "you'll go to Dr. Wade about it, even if you don't mention the amnesia. I've known him since he was a teenager. Taught him math in his freshman year. Frankly, I can't remember a more trustworthy, capable student." Annie shook her head at a memory. "That boy was determined to get a scholarship, and by golly, he spent every minute of his high-school years working to make sure he would. He did it, too. Won a scholarship to Harvard. I have to admire him for that, especially considering the family he came from."

  "'The family he came from'?"

  Annie flushed slightly and hesitated, as if she regretted
having broached the subject. "Oh, his parents were always a little … different, that's all. Not that they were bad in any way. Their life-style did make things a little harder for Connor, though." After a moment's reflection, she waved her hand in dismissal. "My point is, he overcame all the obstacles and won a scholarship to Harvard. I'm sure he's a wonderful doctor."

  "I don't doubt that," Sarah murmured, distracted by the picture Annie had drawn and the questions she had raised. Sarah nearly had to bite her tongue to stop from asking questions about him. Why should she want to know anything more? As capable as Connor Wade might be, he presented a very real danger to her.

  She'd been too attracted to him for her own good. She wouldn't be seeing him again. At least, she hoped she wouldn't.

  "Please, Sarah," persisted Annie. "Promise me that if you need help while I'm gone, you'll turn to him. For my sake."

  Sarah stared in dismay at her friend, her rescuer, her angel of mercy, whose gaze held a serious plea. How could she possibly refuse?

  She'd just have to make sure that she wouldn't need help of any kind while Annie was gone. And she'd have to stop thinking about Dr. Connor Wade.

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  She was back again, in his examination room, sitting on the table, with another of those thin paper gowns covering her nakedness. She'd been chilly at first, but as she heard his footsteps approach the room, her tension mounted and her skin grew warm and sensitive.

  She'd do it this time. She'd let his large, sun-darkened hands slip beneath her paper gown. She'd press herself against those hands, move beneath them, guide them to where she most wanted his touch … and then she'd draw him down in a kiss until he lost all perspective and took her, right there on the table…

  Oh, Sarah, really!

  Sucking in a large, cooling draught of air, she set her dust cloth and furniture polish aside to press her palms against her heated face. Why couldn't she stop daydreaming about him?