Part 2 (1/2)

Something's wrong.

She cracked her eyes open and couldn't stifle a whimper at the glare of the overhead fluorescent lights stabbing into her brain. Ow. She didn't know light could hurt so much.

Not good.

Also on the not-good list was that she didn't recognize her surroundings. Small room. Walls an unappetizing Dijon mustard yellow. A curtained sliding gla.s.s door left partially open. A narrow bed on which she was lying, with heavy-duty railings on either side, with a bunch of push b.u.t.tons embedded into the railing's side that faced her.

She stared at those b.u.t.tons for what seemed like a long time before the unfamiliar image finally clicked into place. Aha. She knew what this was. It was a hospital bed. So that meant... something.

But what?

She was in a hospital bed.

Huh.

Weird.

And also not good.

Gingerly she ran her tongue over her teeth, then moved all her fingers and toes. Other than a weirdly detached numbness in everything that moved, she seemed to be in one piece. She had a headache so intense it hurt all the way to the roots of her hair, but that certainly didn't warrant a hospital stay.

What the h.e.l.l was she doing in a hospital?

”The motion sensor lights didn't come on,” came Scout's tightly controlled voice. ”Payne's got a call into the security company, so I'm sure that whatever went wrong with the system will be fixed by the time we open tomorrow.”

”Fat lot of good that does now, with Angel getting her f.u.c.king head caved in. Five steps from the door, and she could've been raped or killed, and no one would've seen a thing. If I hadn't been there to chase that sonofab.i.t.c.h away, who the f.u.c.k knows what would have happened to her?”

Wait. Wait.

What?

Had Twist, her mortal enemy, saved her?

Oh, no.

Horror washed over her as Twist's viciously ground-out words obliterated the last of the cobwebs. Now she remembered. She'd been digging in her purse for her keys when she'd been grabbed roughly from behind. For a second she'd thought it was Twist coming back at her, and she'd unleashed her fury by stomping as hard as she could on the foot next to hers, kicking back at where the knee should have been and doing her d.a.m.nedest to clock his lights out with a backward headb.u.t.t.

Then her a.s.sailant had sworn in a voice she didn't recognize, and terror had ripped her world in half.

She remembered managing to turn to face her attacker, a shadowed hulk in the dark and trying to knee him in the groin. She'd connected with something, she had no idea what. Then he'd pulled his fist back just as she heard Twist's ferocious roar...

And then... nothing.

Oh, G.o.d.

Oh G.o.d, had she been raped?

Ignoring her pounding head, she sat up to check her clothes and body underneath, looking for signs of violation and mentally scanning for telltale aches and pains. Only after she almost pa.s.sed out again did she recall Twist's announcement that she could have been raped or murdered if he hadn't been there to save her, and she let out a shuddering sigh of relief. Thank goodness he'd been there to save her. She'd be grateful for his actions every day for the rest of her natural life.

Oh.

If he hadn't been there to save her...

Oh, no.

Twist Santiago had saved her.

That meant she now owed him everything.

Clearly the Fates had a sick sense of humor.

”Excuse me.” A cool male voice sounded just outside the sliding door. ”You came in with the head trauma patient, correct?”

”Angel Taylor,” came Twist's unmistakable growl. ”Her name is Angel Taylor.”

Great. I'm now known as a head trauma patient, and Twist Santiago is standing up for me. This is officially the worst day of my life.

”Right. I'm told you're not her immediate family?”

”Her mother and father just left for Arizona for a fantasy golfing holiday and won't be back until the end of September.” Scout's voice was a calm oasis in the middle of the surreal desert that had become Angel's world. ”She doesn't have any other family except us.”

”So... are you blood relatives?”

”Look, we're not going anywhere.” It sounded like Twist couldn't get his jaw unclenched. ”We're all she has.”

”Nevertheless, the rules of this hospital are clear. You can't be in the emergency room area if you're not related to the patient. So, if you'll just...”

”She's my fiancee,” Twist said. ”That's allowed, isn't it?”

Whoa.

His... what?

Fiancee.

Angel put a hand to her forehead and almost laughed. Hallucinations, auditory and otherwise, obviously went hand in hand with head trauma. She was now known as the head trauma patient, after all. Yeah. That had to be the case.

”Ah, that does change things a bit. Once she regains consciousness, you can go in and keep her company. Does she have any allergies or any other medical conditions that we should be aware of, such as diabetes or high blood pressure? What medications does she take, if any?”

”She has a strong aversion to eating right, but I'm working on that.”

The sound of the gla.s.s door opening further made her look up a moment before the curtain was pushed aside. Twist stalked into the room, closely followed by a balding, bespectacled man in scrubs and a long white coat, with Scout bringing up the rear.

Maybe she was claiming to be her fiancee too.

Then Twist's gaze ran bang into hers and he froze, but only for a second. Then he crossed to where she sat with one hand propped up on the bed, the other pressed to her head. Her brow furled as he drew inexorably closer, and she could do nothing but sit and stare. There he was in all his glory-the bane of her existence and the hero who'd saved her, all wrapped up in one complete package.