The Temptation of Dr. Colton. Karen Whiddon

She struggled, using her shopping bags as weapons, albeit ineffectually.

      Shouting for someone to help them, Greta came to her aid. Somehow, she managed to wrench MW free, just as two Good Samaritans emerged from inside the coffee shop and chased after the men.

      One would-be assailant cursed and jumped back into the van, which sped off.

      It all happened so fast. Numb, heart pounding, MW watched the vehicle go while Greta and the two strangers picked up the spilled packages. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, standing there frozen and shell-shocked.

      “Hon?” Greta touched her arm. “You look like you’re going to pass out. Do you need to sit down, maybe put your head between your knees?”

      Blinking, MW slowly shook her head. “I want to go home.” Except she didn’t know where exactly that might be.

      “Hang on, okay?” Greta turned to assist their rescuers in picking up the scattered clothing.

      Once everything had been collected and placed in neat little piles, Greta thanked the two men who’d helped them.

      “Are you all right?” Greta asked, putting her arm around MW.

      Despite the fact that she’d started trembling and felt very unsteady, as if she might pass out at any moment, MW nodded. “I think so,” she answered, pleased that her voice came out strong and sure.

      “We need to hurry up and find out who you are,” Greta said firmly. “And why so many people are out to get you.”

       Chapter 3

      Right after Greta and MW left to go shopping, Eric’s cell rang. Seeing Ryan’s name on the screen, he answered immediately.

      “We’ve run everything we can think of on any missing women as well as anyone named Walter,” Ryan told him. “We’ve checked missing persons, warrants, and people who have been recently incarcerated. We even checked black Lincoln Town Cars registered in Tulsa. The traffic cameras were too blurry due to the rain. We’ve come up with absolutely nothing. Not on her or on the person who hit her.”

      “Thanks for trying. It wasn’t a lot to go on.” Eric had known it would be too much to hope for this to be so easy. For the first time ever, he considered himself lucky the hospital hadn’t paged him to come in and do some sort of emergency surgery today. Next to medicine, there was nothing he liked more than a good mystery. And MW certainly presented one.

      “How’d your meal with Greta go? Or are you two still at lunch?”

      Eric laughed. “No, we finished in record time. Greta was in a hurry. She took the mystery woman shopping.”

      The total silence told him how much he’d stunned his brother. Quickly, he explained. “MW—Mystery Woman—has nothing. No clothing, no toiletries, nada. I figured the best person to get her the basic things women need would be Greta. I gave her my credit card and let her get busy. She was thrilled. You know how she loves to shop.”

      Ryan groaned. “You’re sure asking for it. At least I know you can afford the bill when it comes in. You should have plenty of money since you never buy a damn thing for yourself.”

      Eric made a noncommittal sound. Ryan knew him well. He liked to work, didn’t have many hobbies, and aside from making his student-loan payments, paying the hefty premium for his malpractice insurance, his office space rent and employees’ payroll, his personal needs were few. After purchasing furniture and a sweet sports car, he banked most of his salary. Which was much less than most people realized.

      “Are you still on for dinner?” Ryan asked.

      Eric found himself wondering if his impromptu houseguest would be all right. “Can I get back to you on that?”

      Ryan swore. “Sure. But I don’t have to tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to barbecue.”

      “What is it with you and Greta and your food?” As far as Eric concerned, he ate to fuel his body, nothing more. It helped if it was something he truly enjoyed, like the meatball sub earlier, but he never obsessed about it. “She was craving a panini earlier.”

      “Whatever. Like you don’t. I know you enjoy Red’s Ribs,” Ryan prodded. “Because as far as I can remember, the last time we were there, you ate an entire rack of them by yourself.”

      Grinning, Eric conceded maybe he had. Growing up, with all of them crammed together on the ranch, he’d sought any means to escape his siblings. These days, he enjoyed their company. Maybe absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

      “Most likely, I’ll be there,” he told his brother. “I want to make sure my houseguest is going to be all right by herself.”

      “If not, just bring her with you.”

      Eric frowned. “Why would I want to do that?”

      “For me. I want to get a look at what kind of woman can get past my big brother’s defenses.”

      “It’s not like that,” Eric started to protest hotly, and caught himself, aware his brother loved to tease him. “Both you and Greta like stirring things up, don’t you?”

      “Maybe.” Ryan chuckled. “Give me a call as soon as you know if we’re on for dinner.”

      “Will do.” He had some investigating of his own to do. Back in medical school and during his residency, he’d become a master of the internet search. Once he got started, he could lose hours of time without realizing it, but usually was pretty successful at getting results.

      Right now, he planned to find out anything he could about the mystery woman who’d landed in his town house, and her connection to someone named Walter and a speeding Lincoln Town Car.

      * * *

      As MW tottered along behind Greta, who urged her to hurry, she nearly groaned out loud in relief when Eric’s town house came into view.

      “We’re almost there.” Turning, Greta flashed her an encouraging smile. “At least once we’re in the atrium, you’ll be safe.”

      MW couldn’t keep from looking behind her. “As long as they—whoever they are—don’t see where I’m going.”

      Eric opened the door before Greta could knock, which was a good thing considering how many shopping bags she carried.

      His vivid green eyes widened. “What the...”

      Sweeping past him, Greta flashed an unrepentant grin as she dropped all her bags on the floor. “Your guest is now fully outfitted. You can thank me later.”

      Ignoring them both, MW staggered past them and sank into the chair, dropping her shopping bags in the pile with Greta’s. She leaned forward, putting her head between her knees, willing the dizziness to abate.

      Immediately, Eric crouched down next to her, taking her wrist to feel her pulse. “What’s wrong?”

      She managed a weak smile. “I think I just overdid it a bit, that’s all.”

      When he gave her shoulder a light squeeze, she had to fight the urge to lean into him. His big hand lingered on her wrist, making her aware he could completely encircle it with his fingers.

      “Are you going to tell him or shall I?” Greta demanded, twin spots of color high on her cheeks.

      MW swallowed.

      Eric went tense, suddenly alert. “Tell me what?”

      Gently rubbing her wrist where his grip had tightened, MW exchanged a glance with Greta. “You go ahead,” she said.

      “Some men in a white van—just like in the movies—pulled up alongside us as we were walking. A guy got out of the passenger side and tried to grab MW. I screamed for help, but we were able to fight them off. Two