Playing Doctor

Chapter Twenty-Four

Always be ready to perform. You never know when you'll have to whip it out at the spur of the moment.

-Strip Style: A Guide for Aspiring Exotic Dancers

It happened as we left Montage.

Or rather, as I left Montage. I needed fresh air-desperately-as well as time to recoup from Gray's too omnipotent gaze. So while Charles and Gray were taking care of the bill, I slipped on my coat and murmured that I'd be waiting by the door.

Unfortunately, Rachel followed me out. "Great dinner, wasn't it? I love this place."

I grunted noncommittally.

"I'm glad I met you." She studied me, her head tipped to one side.

I had the distinct impression she was analyzing me. I could feel her eyes strip me, layer by layer, and I fidgeted as I imagined what she'd see.

Then she said, "You're not what I expected you to be."

My back stiffened. "What did you expect?"

She smiled. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just that the way Gray described you I thought you were another one of his typical women. You aren't typical at all."

My hackles rose at being described as not typical at all. "You're wrong. I'm just like any other woman."

She pursed her lips. "Somehow I don't buy that."

A car screeched around the corner. We both looked up in time to watch it hit a woman crossing the street, presumably on her way to Montage.

I was already halfway to the woman when I heard the sick thud of her body hitting the ground. I bent down to her and checked her pulse. Thready. A quick perusal told me she had a broken leg and a broken arm. The arm was what worried me though. The bone had perforated the skin and the way the blood was pumping through it looked like it'd knicked the brachial artery.

"I didn't see her!" A distressed man pushed through the small crowd that had gathered. He paled when he saw the blood pooling around the woman.

Pointing at him, I gave him an order so he'd be distracted from fainting. "Call 9-1-1. Now."

When I saw him pulling out his cell phone, I turned back to the victim. I needed to stop the blood loss so I jerked my jacket off and tore first one sleeve from my silk shirt and then the other.

"Daphne."

I looked up to see Gray shoving his way through the onlookers. "Is the ambulance on the way?"

"Yeah." He got down on his knees and took in the woman's condition with his sharp eyes. "We need to stem that tear. She'll bleed out otherwise."

"I know. Pulse is weak." I folded my sleeves together into a pad and pressed down on the bone with all my weight. It didn't even take a minute before the silk was soaked through.

"Take this." He stripped off his Hawaiian shirt and handed it over. "You got it?"

"Yes." I switched out the bandages and leaned down again as hard as I could. "We should use my jacket too."

"Let me take over. You get the jacket ready." He placed his hands over mine and applied his weight the second I slipped my hands out.

It was too thick to tear up, so I folded it. "Here. Lift your hands." I slid the jacket under his hands, noting how the blood welled up through his shirt. As he resumed pressure, I checked her pulse again. Not good. I glanced at Gray and his lips firmed as he read my expression.