Dragon's Heart [Dragon Love 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4

  “You’re the ones who went over the embankment. You’re the ones who survived a burning car. You should go to the hospital.”

  The medic watched them, one eyebrow arched. “All of you should go to the hospital. You can catch your ride home after you’ve been given the all clear.”

  “He’s right, Cinda.” Walken crossed his arms, obviously as determined as Hank was to stay with her. “We insist you go. We promise we won’t leave you alone.”

  “Fine. I’ll go if you’ll go.” She flicked a strand of her hair away from her face.

  “Oh, for the love of a dragon, we’ll all go.” Bertram shoved Walken, pushing him toward the ambulance. “The faster we get this done, the faster we get back to the ranch. Move it, son.”

  Hank shrugged. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s all smoke and no flame.”

  “For the love of a dragon? All smoke and no flame? I’ve never heard those sayings before.”

  He wasn’t about to explain. “So we’re headed to the hospital, right?”

  “Right.”

  He never wanted to let go of her hand but knew it was fanciful thinking. “I’ll check with the police and make sure we’re good to go.”

  She nodded, giving both Hank and the female medic who’d just walked closer, apparently intent on taking her to an ambulance, an answer. “See you in the ER.”

  He lifted a hand then strode away, taking his own medic along with him. By the time he’d talked to the police and climbed into the back of an ambulance, he realized that the paramedics had separated them. He and Walken had ended up in one ambulance while Bertram was the lucky one getting to ride with Cinda.

  “She’s hot, man. I can see why you became obsessed with her.” The blare of the ambulances sirens made it difficult to speak.

  Hank stuck out his arm and let the paramedic wrap a blood pressure cuff around it. “Did you think I was lying?”

  “I wasn’t sure what to think until now. Still, just because she’s got a body made for lovin’ doesn’t mean she’s our mate.”

  “No, but I got to know her before she ran off.”

  Walken stopped talking long enough for the paramedic to check his pulse. “For what? An hour or so?”

  Hank struggled to find the right words. How could he describe what was indescribable? “I hear what you’re saying, but I also know how I felt. Don’t you think after all these years”—he shot a quick glance at the others in the ambulance—“that I’d know when someone comes along that’s different? Special?”

  Walken’s gaze went to the window as the ambulance pulled into the driveway of the emergency room at Atlanta Winslow-Harper Hospital. The other ambulance, the one with Cinda and Bertram, was already there. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  They shirked off help getting out of the vehicle. “Just don’t let her get away. At least now I know her last name.”

  “But she was married the first time you met her. We don’t know if she still is.”

  Hank hurried into the ER, hoping to see her. Stopping abruptly, he wouldn’t let the paramedic move him along. Suddenly, he was nervous. What if she didn’t feel the same way? “Yeah, I know. But a man can hope. Okay, okay. I’m going.”

  He saw her then, sitting on the edge of one of the beds. A policeman was asking her questions and jotting down her answers. Just as he was about to wave, the nurse attending to her pulled the curtain around the semi-circular rod, hiding Cinda from his view.

  He pointed toward her. “She’s in there. Don’t let her get away.”

  “Take it easy, Hank. We’re on it.” Walken let himself be escorted into the curtained area to the right of hers.

  Fortunately for everyone involved—he would’ve raised hell otherwise—Hank was sent to the one to the left of hers. A nurse entered and started asking questions. He answered, barely paying any attention as she checked his vitals.

  “I’m Dr. Harris.” The middle-aged physician had a kind face and graying hair. He was the perfect example of the type of doctor most people would trust.

  Hank, however, wasn’t like most people. He stared at the curtain separating him from Cinda. What were they doing to her? Was she really unharmed? He wished he could see through the curtain, but even shifting enough to bring out his heightened senses wouldn’t help. “Hi, Doc. I’m good to go, right?”

  “Not just yet.” The doctor started examining him, but it wasn’t until he began studying Hank’s burned clothes that Hank gave the man his full attention.

  “How’d you manage to get out of the car? According to the other driver, she didn’t see anyone get out right before it went up in flames.”

  “Just lucky, I guess.” Hank wasn’t about to give the man any details, much less the truth. Letting a human doctor examine him was risky. Yet, unless they drew blood, they wouldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. Still, that didn’t mean he liked getting poked and prodded.

  “I’m fine, Doc. Just turn me loose.”

  “I’m almost finished. So far, so good.”

  Hank recognized the confused expression on the doc’s face. The poor guy was doing his best to find anything, even a scratch, to show for the accident. “How are my friends doing?”

  “They’re being examined right now. As far as I could see, they didn’t look any worse than you do. Which is pretty amazing.”

  “Great. Then we’re all good to go.”

  The sound of voices drifted to him from Cinda’s area. He shifted just enough to pick up some of the conversation between Cinda and her doctor.

  The doctor scribbled on his clipboard. “I think maybe a few x-rays might be in order. Just to be safe.”

  “Hang on, Doc. I don’t like x-rays, and I’m not going to have any taken. Unless you’ve got a definitive reason to take them.” He asked the question he already knew the answer to. “Do you have a reason, Doc? Other than playing it safe?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then it’s settled. I’m out of here.” Hank started to slide off the table but stopped when the doc lifted his hand.

  “Fine. Stay put while I get the paperwork done.” Dr. Harris lifted his eyebrows in question. “Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough. But be quick about it.” He had to be ready to stop Cinda before she left.

  Dr. Harris tapped his clipboard. “Just hang in there. I’ll be back.”

  Patience, however, wasn’t one of Hank’s virtues. His dragon roared deep inside him, demanding to be let out. Shifting in the daytime, not to mention in a crowded emergency room, however, wasn’t going to happen. Even with the cloaking skill all dragons had, their size alone would cause damage and disruption. If a human looked hard enough, they’d see a shimmer in the air and, finally, the outline of the dragon. They even cloaked when they were flying at night in unpopulated areas.

  He slid off the bed and closed his curtain, giving him privacy again. Leaning close to the curtain separating him from Cinda, he shifted, bringing out his sensitive hearing. In only a few moments, he could hear what was being said as though he were standing right next to her.

  “And you’ll take the medications the way you should?”

  Hank frowned. Cinda was on medications. Of course, that didn’t mean much. A lot of humans were on medications. It could’ve been anything from antibiotics to a prescription for nerves.

  “Of course I will, doctor. I haven’t had time to get them filled yet.”

  So she was on new medications. But for what reason?

  “You saw Dr. Friedland today. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re sure you didn’t get dizzy either before or after the accident?”

  Was there something wrong with her? He ached to comfort her.

  “No. I was distracted. After all, I’d just come from Dr. Friedland’s office. I was shaken up, that’s all. Still, I should’ve been paying more attention to my driving.”

  “It’s understandable. Next time, take a friend or family member with you.”


  “Okay. I will. Can I go now?”

  “Just be sure to get in touch with your cardiologist. He should know you were in an accident.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “And start taking that medication as soon as you can.”

  “I will.”

  Hank stepped away from the curtain. She had a cardiologist. What could be wrong with her heart?

  Had he found the woman they’d share only to find her in poor health? His only hope was that her condition wasn’t life threatening.

  “Miss Warner, you have to know. Losing weight will help your condition. As it is, your weight is making your heart work harder.”

  “Oh. I didn’t realize.”

  Hank heard the sarcasm in her voice. He smiled, loving her feistiness.

  “Look, Miss Warner, I know it’s tough to lose the pounds, but—”

  “Really, doctor? So you’ve been overweight? When? After partying too much at college? What was it, doctor? Those fifteen pounds all college kids gain? How’d you lose it? By cutting out beer?”

  “It’s a simple matter of working off more calories than you take in.”

  “Seriously? So that’s all it takes? Well, shit. Who knew? Please. Tell me where the button is that’ll help me lose weight. I never knew it would be so damn easy.”

  “Miss Warner, there’s no reason—”

  “Yes, Doctor, there is. I’m surprised at you. There’s a whole lot more to losing fat than what you’re saying. There’s metabolism, there’s the emotional aspect of it, and more. I’m sorry, but until you’ve had to struggle with this issue, you have no right to criticize me.”

  She was angry and Hank was angry for her. According to society she was overweight, but in his mind, she was the perfect size. He grabbed hold of the curtain and started to pull it back.

  “Cinda, I’m sorry. I’m only trying to help.”

  She sighed. “No, I’m sorry, Doctor. I know you’re right. It’s just not as easy as some people think.”

  “I only want the best outcome for you, Cinda.”

  “I know. I’m sorry for my outburst. Doctor?”

  Hank froze at the resignation in her voice. She’d had so much fight in her only moments before.

  “Yes, Cinda?”

  “Tell me the truth. I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

  “Cinda, I can’t and I won’t pretend to know the future. According to Dr. Friedland’s records, your heart is very—”

  “Unstable?”

  Hank could hear the smile as well as the sadness in her tone.

  “With proper treatment… I’m sorry, but this is something you should discuss with Dr. Friedland.”

  “But my heart could stop at any moment. Am I right?”

  “Again, you need to discuss your condition with Dr. Friedland. Did he give you any samples of your medication to get you through until you can make it to a pharmacy?”

  “Yes, he did, and you avoided my question.” Incredibly, she chuckled. Still, the sound of it almost broke Hank’s heart. “Which is your very discreet way of saying that my heart might give out at any time. I could die in the next minute or next year.”

  “I’m sorry, Cinda.”

  “It’s okay. It’s not like I didn’t know. I guess I’m still trying to let it soak in.”

  She’s sick. Maybe even dying.

  Hank stepped away from the curtain and shifted back, ridding him of his sensitive hearing. He couldn’t stand to listen any longer.

  How are we going to help her?

  Chapter Four

  Cinda shouldn’t have given in, but after the day she’d had, she hadn’t been able to resist letting someone, especially two very hot men, pamper her. After a quick and very determined discussion, they’d talked her into coming back to their ranch.

  The Bright Futures Ranch was a beautiful ranch of more than one hundred acres of green land. Trees lined the road as they drove toward the white-framed house. Black shutters framed the windows shining in the sunlight. Flowers spread around the house in an ongoing flowerbed. A red front door welcomed visitors. Another newer structure was settled against the backdrop of lush trees. Nearby were corrals and a red barn.

  Children, as well as several adults, rode horses in the corrals while others worked the ranch, pitching in with a variety of chores ranging from rubbing down the horses to loading bales of hay onto the back of a pickup.

  “Pop” Mulkins, a large man with a white beard and thick white hair, had picked the four of them up at the hospital in what had to be the biggest pickup she’d ever seen. He was as good-natured as any Santa lookalike could be and had joked and told stories during the trip to the ranch. Even the irascible Bertram stopped complaining. In fact, from the way he kept glancing at Pop with a devilish glint in his eyes, she’d begun wondering if the grouchy Bertram had a crush on Pop.

  She couldn’t have gotten any closer to the side window unless she’d crawled over Walken to press her nose against the pane. As it was, she barely resisted doing exactly that. Both the crawling and the peering through the window were enticing.

  The ranch was the kind of place she’d always dreamed of owning. Not that she could have afforded it. As a child, she would’ve loved to have been able to spend all day with the horses. Riding through the green pastures and even mucking out the stalls would’ve been a joy. Instead, she’d grown up in the average suburban neighborhood surrounded by houses that were the spitting image of her own.

  “Do the children live on the ranch?”

  “It depends. Most don’t. We sometimes have sleepovers that the kids enjoy.” Pop pulled the truck to a stop. “Home at last, everyone.” He shoved his bulk against the door and pushed it open.

  She’d ridden between Hank and Walken in the second seat. They were large men with big, strong arms. Although she’d had to squish in between them, she didn’t mind one bit. In fact, unless she was imagining it, they’d leaned toward her instead of away from her.

  Walken hopped out of the truck and offered her his hand. “Welcome to Brighter Futures Ranch, Cinda. Make yourself at home.”

  The way he’d said it made it sound as though she could simply move in without any questions asked. Part of her would’ve loved to. “I appreciate you bringing me to see the ranch. Although it would’ve been a lot easier if I’d just taken a cab home.”

  “No way.” Hank rounded the back of the vehicle. “We can’t let you go without making damn sure you’re all right.”

  “The doctor checked me out and cleared me for release. I’m fine. Besides, you’re the ones who escaped a burning car. How’d you do that, anyway?” Was it her imagination or did Hank and Walken exchange a pointed glance?

  “Yeah, well, what do doctors know anyway? We’ll feel better having you close by.” Walken ignored her other question, linked his arm in hers, and urged her to keep up with his pace. “Besides, you need someone to help you get around until your car’s repaired.”

  “And what about your car?” Her stomach still twisted at the memory. Flames and then an explosion. How could anyone have survived? Even if they’d gotten out in the nick of time, wouldn’t some of the shrapnel from the car have hit them?

  “It’s not a big deal. That’s what insurance is for.” Walken lifted his hand, signaling to one of the women sweeping the front porch of the house. “Hey, Mildred, have you got a minute?”

  Mildred had to be in her eighties if she was a day. Her thick gray hair was piled on the top of her head. Lively hazel eyes were surrounded by laugh lines. Tanned like old leather, her skin stretched over a thin frame.

  A good gust of wind would blow her over, thought Cinda.

  “Sure thing.” Mildred leaned the broom against one of the columns supporting the roof and hurried down the steps. She moved swiftly as though she were a young girl. “Who’s this?”

  Hank came to her side, straightening as he looped his arm around Cinda. “This is Cinda Warner.”

  Mildred’s face lit up, yet Cinda caught an underl
ying edge to her friendly nature. “Is this the Cinda?”

  “The Cinda?” As though she were someone special, someone they’d talked about.

  “The one and only,” answered Hank.

  Was it anger she saw in Mildred’s eyes? Or—nah, it couldn’t be—jealousy? Why would Mildred be jealous of her?

  “Welcome, Cinda, to our home.” Mildred’s smile and open arms were welcoming, but her tone held the same edge she’d heard before.

  “So you live here, too?” Did her question sound like a challenge? She hoped the older woman wouldn’t take it that way.

  “I sure do. Have since it first opened. A lot of us live here on the ranch. Mainly in the clients’ quarters.”

  “Don’t let her sell herself short.” Walken turned her loose, letting Hank pull her closer. “We couldn’t get along without Mildred.”

  “Did I hear y’all right?”

  The gorgeous man was shirtless and built like a Sherman tank. For a moment, Cinda forgot about everyone else. He wore faded jeans and worn boots. His blond hair was tousled giving him that “just woke up” appearance other men paid hard money to a stylist to achieve. She doubted he was one of those. Instead, he seemed totally natural, as though he’d been born with the best of everything from good genes to a good life. His silver eyes, so much like Hank’s, met hers, leaving her defenseless. If he’d wanted to sling her over his shoulder and carry her away, she would’ve shouted for joy.

  “This is Grant Richman, the third co-owner of the ranch,” offered Hank.

  She stuck out her hand. Striding toward her fast, he ignored her outstretched hand and scooped her off her feet. “Damn, it’s good to finally meet you.”

  She squealed as he swung her around. If he’d wanted to swing her several more times, she wouldn’t have minded. How could she when she was pressed up close and personal to his hard chest? Even the perspiration dotting his forehead and along the back of his neck was entrancing.