Her Kind of Hero by Diana Palmer Page B

Callie asked again, just to be sure.
    Micah pursed his lips. “Well, that depends on whether or not the guy at customs recognizes us. I was kidding!” he added immediately when she looked ready to cry.
    She moved her shoulder and grimaced. “I’ll laugh enthusiastically when I get checked out,” she promised.
    â€œHe’ll take good care of you,” Micah assured her. “He and I were at medical school together.”
    â€œIs he, I mean, does he do what you do?”
    â€œNot Jerry,” he told her. “He specializes in trauma medicine. He’s chief of staff at a small hospital here.”
    â€œI see,” she said, nodding. “He’s a normal person.”
    Micah gave her a speaking glance while the others chuckled.
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    The hospital where Micah’s friend worked was only a few minutes from the airport. Micah took Callie inside while the others waited in the car. Micah had a private word with the receptionist, who nodded and left her desk for a minute. She came back with a tall, dark-headed man about Micah’s age. He motioned to Micah.
    Callie was led back into an examination room. Micah sank into a chair by the desk.
    â€œAre you going to sit there the whole time?” Callie asked Micah, aghast, when the doctor asked her to remove the shirt she was wearing so he could examine her.
    â€œYou haven’t got anything that I haven’t seen, and I need to explain to Jerry what I did to treat your wound.” He proceeded to do that while Callie, uncomfortable and shy, turned her shoulder to him and removed the shirt.
    After checking her vital signs, Dr. Candler took the bandage off and examined the small red cut with a scowling face. “How did this happen?” he asked curtly.
    â€œOne of Lopez’s goons had a knife and liked to play games with helpless women,” Micah said coldly.
    â€œI hope he won’t be doing it again,” the physician murmured as he cleaned and redressed the superficial wound.
    â€œThat’s classified,” Micah said simply.
    Callie glanced at him, surprised. His black eyes met hers, but he didn’t say anything else.
    â€œI’m going to give you a tetanus shot as a precaution,” Dr. Candler said with a professional smile. “But I can almost guarantee that the cut won’t leave a scar when it heals. I imagine it stings.”
    â€œA little,” Callie agreed.
    â€œI need to give her a full examination,” Dr. Candler told him after giving Callie the shot. “Why don’t you go outside and smoke one of those contraband Cuban cigars I’m not supposed to know you have?”
    â€œThey aren’t contraband,” Micah told him. “It isn’t illegal if you get given one that someone has purchased in Cuba. Cobb was down there last month and he brought me back several.”
    â€œLeave it to you to find a legal way to do something illegal,” Candler chuckled.
    â€œSpeaking of which, I’d better give a mutual acquaintance a quick call and thank him for the loan of his equipment.” He glanced at Callie and smiled softly. “Then maybe Callie can relax while you finish here.”
    She didn’t reply. He went out and closed the door behind him. She let out an audible sigh of relief.
    â€œNow,” Dr. Candler said as he continued to examine her. “Tell me what happened.”
    She did, still shaken and frightened by what she’d experienced in the last two days. He listened while he worked, his face giving nothing away.
    â€œWhat happened to the man who did it?” he persisted.
    She gave him an innocent smile. “I really don’t know,” she lied.
    He sighed. “You and Micah.” He shook his head. “Have you known him long?”
    â€œSince I was fifteen,” she told him. “His father and my mother were briefly married.”
    â€œYou’re Callie!” the doctor said at once.

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