CHAPTER 6

"What the hell did you think you were doing getting into that car with him?" Erin demanded, the minute Nicky finally picked up her call.

She could hear the sounds of passing traffic in the background, and wondered just where they where.

"I wanted to talk to Ethan, what do you think?" Nicky replied, her tone snappy and strained and Erin wondered what had happened to rile her normally cool cousin.

"We agreed you should stay away from him." Erin forced the irritation from her voice, keeping it mellow. Nicky was obviously in a bad mood, no need to annoy her with demands.

"You said I shouldn't talk to him," Nicky emphasized the 'you' with a tinge of resentment. "I only agreed because you were obviously upset about your dad. But I couldn't just sit back and let you fight my battles for me. I had to do something."

What was with the anger at her? Erin pinched the bridge of her nose, as concern for her cousin flooded her.

"Are you okay, Nicks? Did that bastard do something to upset you?"

See, this was why she hadn't wanted Nicky anywhere near that man. She wouldn't put it past him to hurl ridiculous insults willy nilly, and Nicky was a sensitive soul, too soft for that kind of viciousness.

Erin made a mental note to give Ethan a piece of her mind; and a vicious kick to the nuts, the next time she saw his annoying mug.

Nicky made a dismissive sound. "Look, I'll call you later and explain. Right now, I need to find a taxi and go home, okay?"

"Wait! What did Ethan say?" Erin asked again, curiosity eating at her.

"I'll talk to you later, bye." Nicky hung up.

Erin stared at the phone with a troubled frown and sighed. Only heaven knew what Ethan had said and done to Nicky.

She began to pace the deserted corridor of the hospital ward, the heels of her black shoes clicking loudly against the black and white linoleum floor, her mind dwelling on several possibilities.

Erin would not put it past that vile bastard to make a move on Nicky, or maybe he'd threatened to blackmail her, or asked her to break up with Ryan, or…

Calm down, I'm letting my imagination run away again.

She sighed again, and wrinkled her nose at the strong smell of disinfectant.

Lord! She hated hospitals. The smells, the illness, the anxiety that seemed to envelop anyone who walked through the front doors.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her the last meal she'd had was a sandwich last night. She groaned, running a hand through her already disheveled hair, grimacing at the grease that stuck to her fingers.

Right. First things first.

Find something to eat, talk to dad and mum, go home, wash hair and have a nice, steaming bath, then try to talk to Nicky again.

She wandered down the long corridor in search of a vending machine and finally spotted one next to the bank of elevators.

Her purse was in her dad's room so she retraced her steps. Her father lay asleep, propped up on pillows and the sight of his pale face wrenched at her heart strings. To Erin, this man lying there was so different from the hale and hearty man she'd known all her life. Seeing him so ill and weak brought tears to her eyes and she dashed them away, cursing Ethan Lachlan for doing this to him.

Her mother sat by his bedside also fast asleep, one hand entwined with his, even in slumber.

Erin tiptoed in and retrieved her purse lying on the breakfast table and left, shutting the door carefully. Back in the corridor, she dug in the bag for some change and approached the machine.

The door of an elevator swished open just as she reached it, expelling a tall dark haired man in light blue scrubs. Erin paused in the act of inserting a note into the slot and looked at him, receiving a polite smile and a nod.

"Good evening." His voice was a rich baritone, bringing to mind a cup of hot chocolate mixed with peanuts.

He stepped out of the elevator and came towards her, his gaze assessing Erin, from the top of her disheveled head, the ridiculous bright pink two piece suit and finally, down to her three inch shoes. Erin felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment as she wondered what he must think of her random choice of outfit.

Erin cleared her throat and finally managed a reply.

"Hello."

She turned back to the machine, though she studied him from the corner of her eye. He was good looking in rumpled 'haven't been to bed in days' kind of way, with a nice, five 'o' clock shadow darkening his upper lip and jaw, that gave him an air of intrigue.

He walked past her line of vision and she turned her attention to the vending machine, slipping the note into the slot and selecting a Bounty bar.

Nothing happened.

She frowned at the offending gadget and pressed the button again. The evil thing remained silent.

"Darn it! Come on!" Erin muttered in frustration, slapping her palm against its metallic sides. "Work, you little -"

"It needs a good kick," the baritone was back, startling Erin. He grinned and delivered a good hard kick to the base and her bar popped out.

He picked it and handed it to her."Shitty hospital equipment, nothing works the way it's supposed to."

Erin took the bar, briefly looking up to meet the stranger's warm brown gaze. "Thanks, but that's hardly reassuring, especially coming from a doctor."

He laughed, a deep, toe curling sound that sent flutters off in her belly. "Don't worry, it's just the unimportant things that don't work right. Our patients are in good hands."

"Good to know." She couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips.

"No problem." He leaned against the machine and studied her for a moment, the scrutiny setting off another wave of heat over her cheeks. "You visiting a patient?"

Erin nodded, giving her attention to unwrapping the chocolate. She wondered why he was even still hanging around talking to her, considering the way she looked today.

She peeked at him from beneath her lashes, taking in the bulge of his biceps beneath the scrubs, suggesting at a strict workout regimen, and handsome features topped by warm chocolate brown eyes.

"Yes, I am. My father's in room 104."

"Ah!" He nodded, and held out a hand. "That would make you Ms. Gosling right? Your father's mentioned you a couple of times, I'm Todd. Dr Todd Haskell."

Erin stared at his outstretched hand, then tentatively placed hers in his grip. "Erin. Nice to meet you, Dr. Haskell. Though I was under the impression Doctor Sweetwater's my father's doctor?"

"Please, call me Todd." Todd grinned again and shook her hand with enthusiasm. "And you're right, Erin. I'm not his doctor, merely a lowly surgeon. I'll be handling his surgery tomorrow."

At Erin's blank look, he clarified. "We're going try to remove the clots blocking the blood flow in his artery. Just a minor procedure."

"Oh," Erin felt apprehension chill her spine at the thought of her father going under the knife. "I wasn't aware of that."

Her parents had been asleep when she'd shown up, and seeing how tired they were, she hadn't woken them up.

His look softened and turned reassuring. "Your father will be alright. As soon as his arteries are clear, he'll be free to go home safe and sound."

"Thank you Dr...Todd." Erin smiled, hardly reassured but unwilling to look like a wimp in front of him. "That's very reassuring indeed. It'll be nice to have him home again. Not to be rude, but the food here's terrible."

Todd laughed, a deep sound that warmed her aching toes. "The food's part of our grand plan to get patients to spend less time in here. So far, it's worked perfectly. But don't tell anyone I told you, it's a state secret."

He's got great teeth. Erin observed, warming up to the guy.

"I won't tell a soul."

His pager beeped and Todd glanced at it and grimaced.

"Duty calls," he said, his tone apologetic. "But it was a pleasure talking to you Erin. If you don't mind, I'd like to do it again, preferably over a glass of wine and real food. What do you say?"

Erin failed to breathe. Was he really asking her out after a five minute conversation? And despite how horrid she looked?

She peered up at him, searching for signs of sarcasm, but found only genuine interest.

Ah well, what would it hurt?

"That sounds good. I enjoyed our conversation too, Todd."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight? Really?"

Todd grinned and searched his pockets, pulling out a white prescription pad and a pencil.

"I'm an impatient man, Erin. Even more so in the presence of a beautiful woman. Eight pm?"

Erin blushed and took the pad and pencil.

"Tonight it is." She scribbled her address and phone number on the pad and handed it back. "Eight pm."

****

The blonde sidled up next to Ethan, one hand coming to rest on his upper arm. She gazed up at him, green eyes glinting with intent, mouth set in a full pout. Up close, he could smell her perfume, an almost cloying fragrance of roses.

"So, how about dinner to celebrate our agreement?" The blonde said, red lips stretching in a sultry smile. "I know of a good place uptown. They serve decent wine at least."

Ethan turned from the blonde and looked at his lawyer. Marcus Reedman grinned and shrugged, refusing to step in and rescue his best friend this time.

"Yeah Ethan, why not have a drink?" Marcus' eyes glinted with mischief. "I'm sure this place Imogen's suggested should be good."

Ethan's glare silently promised retribution and he returned his attention to Imogen. "Sure. But not immediately, I have another meeting in an hour. How about this evening?"

Imogen's fingers stroked his arm, an effect that was lost on Ethan. "This evening sounds good. Eight o'clock at The Frieling?"

Ethan nodded and excused himself, picking up his briefcase and headed out the door.

He cursed silently as he walked down the corridor, paying no attention to the tasteful artwork that hung from the cream colored wall, or the plush carpet his soles tread on.

The last thing he wanted was an evening spent wining and dining, when he'd rather be at his club, working off some steam on the tennis court. He needed an outlet for the frustration coiled tight inside him as a result of dealing with two of his least favorite women.

"Hey ET, wait up." Marcus called out just as Ethan reached the elevator. He turned to see the lawyer jog towards him, the ex-hockey player looking almost out of place in the plush office. He looked like he would be more comfortable in skates, knocking the breath out of opponents at a game.

"I should wring your neck." Ethan said when Marcus caught up to him. "You're supposed to help me, not encourage the women."

Marcus grinned, not in the least bit fazed at his friend's gruff tone. He panted slightly from the recent exertion.

"What? I figured you needed to unwind man. Tell me, when was the last time you got laid? Back in the dark ages?"

Ethan growled low in his throat. "My sex life is none of your business Marc. And for your information, I get laid. Regularly."

"Really? And by regularly, are we talking a daily and weekly basis or once a month, on a full moon?"

They stepped into the lift and the doors swished closed. Marcus turned to his friend, noting the tense jaw and the anger smoldering in Ethan's eyes. He recognized the look.

"Wait. Lemme guess. You had a run in with the delightful Erin Gosling?"Ethan shrugged, unwilling to admit anything."Look, if she gets under your skin so much, why don't you just do her and get it over with? Like I said before ET, the best way outta this is a good long night of nothing but dirty sex with the woman. Then get her out of your mind."