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hour to the hospital.

      His three brothers, one sister and one half brother had made it their mission to ensure he saw his family. Even if Eric never found time to visit the Lucky C—the Colton family ranch—they all drove in to Tulsa to spend time with him. He appreciated this more than they knew. He valued his family connection and loved his siblings.

      Their closeness helped Eric live with his parents’ distance. His mother and father never came to see him. Despite Eric’s oldest brother, Jack’s, dedication to the family business, Big J—as they called their father, John—had never gotten over his second son’s defection to another line of work. At least the man had an excuse, unlike Abra, his mother.

      All through his youth, Eric’s mother had always been too self-involved, too busy with her travel and her shopping to care about her children. Only once her friends had begun commenting on how fortunate she was to have a doctor in the family did she begin to make noises of approval about his career. By then, it had been too little, too late.

      Eric told himself he’d gotten used to the fact that neither of his parents had even seen his town house. He even wondered what it said about him that his parents’ lack of interest in his life rarely bothered him anymore.

      And then the unthinkable had happened. A few months ago someone had attacked Abra and she’d been transferred to Tulsa General. Eric had been on call, and seeing his mother’s beaten, comatose body had made him realize how foolish their stubborn feud had been.

      Her condition had been stabilized and there’d been nothing to do but wait. The neurologist had said in cases like hers, there was a fifty-fifty chance.

      Months had gone by and Abra remained in a coma. Big J had hired a private nursing firm and had her moved to the Lucky C. Though the waiting seemed agonizing, Eric knew only time could heal her. She’d wake when she was ready, or not at all.

      He hoped she woke. The two of them had a few fences to mend. Never again would he let his hurt pride get in the way of what mattered.

      Thinking about his family finally lulled him to sleep.

      * * *

      The next morning, even though it was a Saturday, he woke at five, his usual time. Once he slugged back a glass of water, he dressed and hurried downstairs to the building’s gym. He pounded out ten minutes of cardio, worked his upper body with free weights and then did another ten on the treadmill.

      Satisfied and sweaty, he returned to his town house, downed a protein shake and showered. He’d promised to meet his sister, Greta, for lunch later since she was in town, but he still had enough time to run up to the hospital and check on the mystery woman. Surely by now they’d moved her to a regular room.

      When he arrived, the nurse on call, an older woman who always seemed disgruntled, frowned at him. “Dr. Colton? Are you doing rounds today, too? I show you’re off for the weekend.”

      With a shrug, he slipped behind the counter and checked the computer. “I witnessed a woman hit by a car and brought her into the ER last night. What’s her status? Sorry, I don’t know her name.”

      “Jane Doe?”

      “That’s her name?” He crossed his arms. “Or is that what you’re calling her until you learn her real name?”

      “The latter. She’s been admitted for observation.”

      “Observation?” Which explained why he hadn’t gotten a phone call.

      “Yes.” She handed him the chart. “Take a look yourself.”

      Flipping through the pages, he barely noticed when the nurse bustled off. Unbelievably, all Jane Doe appeared to have suffered was a concussion and some bruised ribs. No broken bones or internal injuries. Wow. As far as he could tell, she was the luckiest woman in Tulsa.

      He might as well take a look at her while he was here. Chart in hand, he hurried down the hall toward her room.

      After tapping briskly twice, he pushed open the door and called out a quiet “Good morning.” Apparently, he’d woken her. She blinked groggily up at him, her amazing pale blue eyes slow to focus on him. He couldn’t help but notice her long and thick lashes.

      “Doctor?” Pushing herself up on her elbows, she shoved her light brown curls away from her face. “You look so familiar.”

      “That’s because I rode with you in the ambulance last night.”

      “Ambulance?” She tilted her head, giving him an uncertain smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about that.”

      Amnesia? He frowned. “How much do you remember?” he asked.

      “Nothing.” Her husky voice broke and her full lips quivered, just the slightest bit. “Not even my name or what happened to me.”

      He took a seat in the chair next to the bed, suppressing the urge to take her hand. “Give it time. You’ve suffered a traumatic accident. I’m quite confident you’ll start to remember bits and pieces as time goes on.”

      “I hope so.” Her sleepy smile transformed her face, lighting her up, changing her from pretty to absolutely gorgeous.

      Unbelievably, he felt his body stir in response. Shocked, he nearly pushed to his feet. This kind of thing had never happened to him, ever. He’d learned to maintain a professional detachment.

      Yet something about this woman was different. She seemed more...helpless, or something. And cute. Despite her bruises and the road rash on her cheek and neck, she reminded him of a flower, delicate and fresh.

      Again, not appropriate. But, he reminded himself, he was not her doctor. He’d only witnessed her accident after his shift.

      When he went silent, her long, silky lashes swept down over her eyes, making him wonder if she’d fallen back asleep. But then she sighed, and raised her gaze to give him a long look. “The nurse said I was in an accident and then you mentioned an ambulance.”

      “Yes.” He decided not to elaborate, feeling it would be better if she remembered on her own.

      “Was I in a car crash?”

      “Sort of.” Eyeing her, he remembered something else. “When you were hurt, you called out for Walter. Do you remember who that might be?”

      “Walter?” she said, overenunciating, almost as if trying to sound out a word in a foreign language. “Walter.”

      “Husband?” He didn’t like that idea, but it was a possibility. “Friend? Brother? Coworker?”

      “Stop. I honestly have no idea.” She held up her hand, turning it to study her ring finger on her left hand. “I don’t see a wedding band, so I don’t think I’m married.”

      The rush of gladness he felt at her words shocked him at first. “I wouldn’t think so,” he agreed.

      “Me either.” A faint hint of hysteria had crept into her voice. “Hopefully I couldn’t forget my own husband.”

      Now he did give in to temptation and touch her, lightly squeezing her shoulder, overly aware of the smoothness of her skin under the thin hospital gown. “Don’t stress. Believe me, you’ll remember in time.”

      When she exhaled, she seemed deflated. “Thank you, Doctor.” The slight shine in her cornflower eyes told him she was fighting back tears.

      This made his chest tighten. Immediately, he stood, slightly confused at the tangle of emotion she invoked in him. “You’ll be fine,” he repeated. “I’m sure Dr. Patel will be by to check on you soon.”

      “Dr. Patel? You’re not my doctor?”

      Unbelievably, she sounded...hurt. Even more unbelievable, he had to hide a grin.

      “No, I’m not. I’m sorry.” On the way to the door, he turned back to glance at her. First mistake.

      Her

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