Emergency Contact. Susan Peterson
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her eyes shut.
“Tess, are you all right?”
She recognized the voice immediately. Ryan Donovan. The handsome doctor’s voice. She cringed inwardly. She’d barely met him and already she was thinking of him in terms of looks.
But what bothered her even more was the fact that he seemed to hold some kind of power over her—at least his voice seemed to possess that kind of power. The sound of it soothed her jitteriness. She wasn’t sure why but it unsettled her.
She kept her eyes shut, determined not to respond to those deep raspy tones with the velvet undertone to it. Something told her that if she looked at him, she’d be giving in, submitting to him in some way. And as crazy as that sounded, Tess wasn’t about to let it happen.
But as soon as the thought flashed into her consciousness, she questioned it. Why in God’s name would she think that a doctor, a man who insisted he only wanted to help her, was out to hurt her? He was a healer, held to a higher oath. Dedicated to helping people. Wasn’t he?
Finally, Tess looked up, steeling herself to meet his gaze, and she immediately found herself drowning in a sea of Caribbean blue. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her focus. His eyes were so stunningly blue that she found it hard to breathe. Hard to look away. He smiled at her and she felt as though she might melt.
It wasn’t a particularly beautiful face. Rather, it was a tough face, one that was in direct contrast to the velvety tones of his hypnotic voice. A face shadowed with lines of fatigue beneath beautiful light-colored eyes. A face with interesting angles and deep grooves in lean cheeks. The grooves deepened with his smile, telling her that things hadn’t always been easy for Ryan Donovan.
He leaned forward, his muscular arms coming to rest on the table, and his broad shoulders shifted effortlessly beneath the somber-colored cloth of his suit. His movements were graceful for such a big man.
His hair was black, thick and meticulously styled. An expensive haircut. One that spoke of a man who took care of himself and liked looking good. But in spite of the precision cut, several strands had escaped and fanned out over his forehead, giving him a slightly unruly appearance. A few shots of gray highlighted the sides. Not much, but enough to make things interesting.
Tess wanted to respond to the smile but she didn’t. Couldn’t. She recognized Ryan Donovan for what he was—danger. Someone to be avoided. The sooner she got herself outside his range of charm and potent masculinity, the better off she’d be.
She broke eye contact and rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to concentrate, trying to understand why her mind was screaming for her to back off. To be cautious.
“Are you in pain, Tess?”
Apparently Donovan wasn’t in the mood to back off, because instead of picking up on her unwillingness to engage in any type of verbal exchange, he was going to use that deep, whiskey-smooth voice until she couldn’t ignore him for one more minute.
She looked up again, and her chest tightened. She forced a smile. “I’ve got a slight headache, that’s all.”
“We need to get—”
Before he could finish, the phone rang. Betty reached over and picked up the receiver, cradling it between her shoulder and ear as she flipped the remaining cakes on the grill. “Hello?”
“Just a moment, please.” She turned and extended the phone toward Chief Cole. “It’s for you, Chief.”
The big man grunted and stood up, pulling the napkin out of the neck of his shirt. He grabbed the phone. “Cole here.”
Tess shifted restlessly, trying not to stare. For some reason, the beefy cop made her nervous, created an anxious flutter in the pit of her stomach. Whenever he moved, the gold bars on his collar glittered, sending off a blinding flash of light. She squinted, trying to hear what he was saying on the phone.
But she couldn’t make it out. The Chief talked low, darting covert glances in her direction every few seconds. Suddenly he straightened up, his dark eyes meeting hers across the length of the room.
He nodded. “All right. We’ll be right there. Don’t let anyone touch anything.” He hung up the phone hard, the receiver rattling in its cradle. He hit her with his best cop stare.
“What?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
Tess swallowed against the lump of pancake that caught in the back of her throat. She fumbled for the glass of orange juice, trying to wash it down. It tasted like grit.
“Something wrong, Chief?” Donovan asked, his coffee cup halfway to his lips.
Chief Cole’s gaze moved over to Donovan. “Seems that this was a night for strange happenings. There’s been an accident out on the Plank Road. A car plowed into Bill Johnson’s cornfield—the one that borders Bud’s and is backed up against the research center’s fence.” He moistened his thick upper lip with the tip of his tongue. “The driver’s dead.”
From beneath lowered lashes, Tess watched Donovan stand up, towering over the table. Damn, he was tall and powerfully built. Concern etched deeper lines around those magnificent eyes. “Anyone else hurt?”
The Chief folded his arms, the leather of his holster creaking loudly. “No.” He turned, his cop stare back on her. “No one else in the car. Just the driver.” He moved over to stand next to Tess, his frame seeming to loom over her, his bloated belly inches from her face. “You wouldn’t know anything about that car in the cornfield, now would you, miss?”
Tess shook her head and took another bite of pancake. She didn’t know anything about the car, but her stomach was clenched up tighter than a fist. It took all her concentration to get the small bite down.
“I think it’s time you told us your full name,” Cole said, pulling a notebook out of his hip pocket.
“I—I’d love to.” Tess laid her fork alongside her plate. “Unfortunately, I seem to have forgotten it.”
Donovan moved to the other side of her, and he reached out to lightly touch her shoulder in a protective gesture. She could almost feel his concern, his compassion, radiate down through his long, masculine fingers. Welcome warmth saturated her shoulder. She shot him a grateful look.
“Don’t push so hard, Cole,” Donovan warned.
The Chief snorted. “Look, you two, I ain’t playing games here. I want her name, address and an explanation of what the hell she’s doing here in Half Moon.”
“You seem to think I’m trying to be uncooperative.” Tess paused, pressing the tips of her fingers to her forehead. Her head ached. “But I—I can’t tell you anything that I have no memory of.”
Ryan held up his other hand. “Back off, Chief. She isn’t yanking your chain. She really doesn’t remember.”
“Yeah, right. And I’m the freakin’ Pope. Give me a break, Doc. She’s playing you—playing all of us. That little nudie show was to keep us all interested.”
Anger surged through her, and Tess stood up, pushing her chair back so quickly it crashed to the floor. “I don’t have to take any of this.”
She started for the door, but Cole stepped in front of her, grabbing her upper arm. Tess struggled, but he had a good grip on her.
“You aren’t going anywhere, missy,” he said. “I want answers and I want them now.”
Tess stopped struggling and stepped in close. So close she could smell the heavy stench of old coffee and bacon on his thick breath. Her stomach recoiled in protest.
But she didn’t back down. “I don’t need this kind of harassment from you or anyone else.”
Cole matched her toe-to-toe. “Don’t sass me, little lady, I’ll—”
Donovan stepped between them. “That’s enough,”