Paging Dr. Hot (25 page)

“Have you ever had chicken pox?”

“No, why?”

“Your symptoms sound like chicken pox.” Harrison makes it sound like a positive diagnosis.

“Nooo. I can’t have chicken pox!” I wail. “That’s the worst thing you could have said, Harrison.”

“Don’t panic, Frankie. I won’t know until I see you. Take acetaminophen every four hours for the fever and headache. But
do not
take any aspirin.”

“Okay,” I say in a feeble voice.

“I have to see one more patient and then I’ll head over and take care of you.”

“You will?” He is so awesome
.

“Yes, and I’m expecting you to be a good patient. I’ll even bring the flea shampoo for your itching,” he teases.

“That’s not funny.” I laugh anyway. “Aren’t you worried I might be contagious?”

“Nope. I had chicken pox when I was six.”

“That’s a relief. What about everyone I came in contact with this week?” I try to recall who they were. I was with my parents and they’re in the Seychelles by now and then there’s Aunt Peggy. I have to let them know right away. There’s also Alex, La Dragona, and his sisters…Vinny, Antoinette… How did I come into contact with so many people in only a few days?

Oh God! What about Elise? I hope she’s had
chicken pox or her babies are at risk. As soon as I hang up with Harrison, I’m calling her.

“Frankie, are you there?”

“Yes,” I say, quaking inside.

“As soon as I get there and I make a diagnosis that it’s chicken pox, you can call and alert everyone. For now, try to chill until I arrive,” he says, reading my mind.

“I’ll try. Thanks.” It’s all I can do not to panic—and scratch my body like a fiend. “Uh…Harrison?”

“Yeah?”

“Better get me a flea collar too. I think I’m gonna need it.”

Harrison’s shout of laughter makes me smile in spite of my woes.

Romeo: Rrruf! What’s going on? Minutes ago, Francesca was asleep. But ever since she spoke to Harrison, she has been pounding at her laptop and acting daft. With all the scratching she’s doing, anyone would think she has fleas.

Other than Francesca’s spazzy, scratching fits, it’s been a perfect day. TV, sleep, and food. What more could a dog ask for? A dose of Coquette’s magic, perhaps?

Chapter Twenty-Three

I just got off the phone with Elise and I’m glad I called her. Turns out she’s had chicken pox already, so no worries. What a relief!

Elise told me she’s getting close to wrapping up the medical fraud case. Good thing too. She needs to get back on air ASAP. I told her I heard from Antoinette that Alex is planning on starting this week. He already has an interview lined up with the doctor he mentioned who was doing research on stem cell therapy to repair hearts.

“When is Harrison going to get here?” I ask Romeo who is sound asleep beside me on the bed and doesn’t look like he’s planning to wake up any time soon.

I’m going crazy trying not to scratch. The itchy bumps have spread upward from my lower stomach to my chest and shoulders. I must have fever because my skin is hot again.

I get up and take off my pajama top. Bracing for the worst, I peer over my shoulder into the mirror to see why my back feels so prickly.
Help
, I’m covered in more bumps—raised pink ones all over my shoulders and back and down to the elastic waistband of my pajama shorts.

“Frankie, are you in there?” I hear a deep male voice call out.
Ack
, it’s Harrison!

I whirl around, clutching my pajama top to my naked breasts to shield them from his gaze just in time. Too late, I realize my bare back is in full view in the mirror behind me.

“Harrison, I didn’t hear you ring the doorbell. You shouldn’t sneak up like that!” I squeak. “I’m not dressed.”

My heart races at the sight of him. Dressed in green scrubs and holding two shopping bags, his dark green eyes study me beneath knitted brows.

“Didn’t Fizzy tell you she gave me your key? I didn’t want you to have to get up. Anyway, I’m here to help. Think of me as your doctor.”

Ooh, thank you, Dr. Taylor.

Harrison sets the bags down and comes right up to me. Romeo’s tail starts thumping on the bed as he opens his eyes and gives a happy yelp of greeting. He rolls on his back and pedals his feet. Without taking his eyes off me, Harrison scratches his tummy. Romeo flips over again and whines to be picked up, but Harrison pats his rump absently as he leans in close and stares at my neck and face.

“Sorry to tell you this, Frankie, but you have chicken pox,” he confirms.

I feel like crying
waaaaah
out loud, but I manage to control myself. Instead, I swallow hard and try to produce a brave smile, but my quivering lips won’t obey. I can’t seem to get any words out either. Good thing I already called everyone I was in contact with the last two days to alert them that I might have chicken pox. Everyone but Alex and family—I’ll email him tomorrow.

“Hey, don’t look like that. You’re going to be fine,” Harrison says, chucking me under my chin.

Little does he know that I already read
everything
I could find on the Internet about chicken pox. I was hoping this wasn’t it, because adults need to be especially careful. One of the complications is pneumonia
.
People have
died
from pneumonia!

“What did you bring?” I ask, trying to act strong even if I’m privately freaking out.

“Some super anti-itch lotion and a few other things. First we need to get you into an Aveeno bath.”

“A bath?”
Did he just say “we”?

“Yeah.” He feels my forehead with his palm. “It’ll help bring down your fever quicker. Get back in bed and wait till the tub is full.”

I don’t bother to argue, so thankful am I to have Harrison here taking care of me. I sink back down on the bed, still clutching the pajama top to my chest. My skin feels on fire. If I were alone, I’d lie there stark naked under a ceiling fan to cool off.

Through half-closed eyes, I watch Harrison walk into my bathroom, carrying one of the bags. I hear the water running in the tub when he comes back out.

“It’s almost full. I’ll put some of these things in the fridge and be right back,” he says, taking the grocery bag with him.

I close my eyes wearily. “Okay, thanks.”

A little later, he’s by my side again. “Come on, Frankie, your bath is ready.”

I pry my bleary eyes open and stare into Harrison’s handsome face. Those were the words I was dreading to hear. I feel as weak as a newborn. I’m going to need his help getting into and out of the tub. So how do I accomplish this without him seeing me
naked
and covered in ugly, itchy spots?

It’s too mortifying. This isn’t romantic at all.
Stop thinking of romance, stupid!
This is hardly the time. I must be delirious.

“Come on, honey,” he coaxes, lifting me into a sitting position. “Let’s go.”

Gosh, I sure love being called honey by Harrison.

He holds out a large towel like a curtain. “Take everything off and wrap yourself in this.”

“First things first,” I mumble, blushing under my rash. “I’ll put the towel around me first and then take my pajamas off.”

Harrison’s lips twitch. “Anything you like, just do it.”

I carefully engulf my poor body in the towel before relinquishing my pajamas altogether. I feel like I’ve used up all my reserves with that little task.

Harrison gently puts his arm around my waist and leads me to the edge of the tub. “Step inside and hand me the towel.”

“Uh, not unless you shut your eyes and don’t open them until I’m in the tub. Okay?”

His eyes meet mine and I wish he didn’t have to see me this way. “Sure.”

I take the deepest breath I can muster and I feel sapped of energy again. Clutching his hand to steady myself, I put one shaky leg in the tub, followed by the other one.

“There, easy now, easy honey. Hand me the towel,” he says in a quiet tone. I get the feeling he’s talking to me like he’s the horse whisperer or something. Well he
is
a vet…what else should I expect?

“Close your eyes,” I insist.

When Harrison complies, I take the towel off and lower myself into the lukewarm water, still holding his strong hand. There’s no denying how soothing an Aveeno bath feels on irritated skin or how wonderful my hand feels engulfed in his.

The moment my fevered body hits the water I say, “Ahhhh.”

“Can I open my eyes now?” Harrison teases.

“No! Turn around first.”

Harrison obliges. “I’ll be back in five minutes to help you out,” he says, keeping his back to me. “Stop worrying so much about how you look. In a week, the spots will be scabbed over.”

“Scabs…gee it sounds so appealing when you put it that way,” I mutter.

“Quit complaining. Before you know it the pox will be gone and you’ll be back to normal.”

I almost laugh out loud. Harrison thinks I’m worried about being covered in pox, but I’m a lot more embarrassed about being naked in a bathtub. I hope his eyes were completely shut.

“Back to normal? I must look like a gargoyle,” I say to his retreating back.

“Nah, more like a Dalmatian with pink spots. A cute one,” he amends. I can hear the smile in his voice as he heads out the door.

By the time he comes back, I’m ready to get out of the tub. He appears at the door holding the towel.

“Close your eyes!” I command.

With eyes closed shut, Harrison looks comical as he advances slowly toward the tub with his arms outstretched.

“Take my hand. I’ll pull you up,” he says.

I take hold of his big hand and hang on as he pulls me up from the water.

“Thanks.” I grab the towel and cover myself.

“No problem.”

I step out of the tub onto the towel mat on the floor. Before I know what he’s doing, Harrison lifts me in his arms and carries me to the bed.

Carefully laying me down on the sheets, he moves the discarded pajamas aside.

“Harrison, did you change the sheets when I was in the tub?”

“Yeah.”

God, could he be more perfect?

“Aw, thank you. That was so considerate of you.” If I weren’t so weak, I’d kiss him.

“My pleasure.” Holding the tube of ointment, Harrison sits beside me on the bed. “Turn over. I’ll put some of this on your back first.”

I struggle to turn over on my belly without exposing too much of myself, but I end up tangled in the towel as I fight to keep it on.

“It’s okay, Frankie, I’m a doctor.”

I feel my face turn bright pink. “Still…”

“It’s not as if I haven’t seen…”

“Harrison, you’re a vet, for God’s sake,” I say. “Human skin is a lot more revealing than animal fur.” With a few adjustments, I manage to keep the towel covering my torso and bottom. “Can you close your eyes again?”

“No, Frankie, I need to see what I’m doing. Get over it. You’re being a baby,” he chides.

He’s right and I don’t have the strength to argue anymore anyway. Okay, suck it up and be a big girl. I just want to feel better.

Lying on my stomach now, I feel Harrison lower the towel to my waist, revealing my bare back, shoulders and arms. I turn my face away from him and close my eyes while I listen to him unscrew the ointment tube.

“Does it look awful?” I try to peek over my shoulder, but in the position I’m in, it’s proving impossible without getting up on my elbows and dislodging the towel. “The last glimpse I got was pretty bad.”

“It’s the same. I’m gonna put a little ointment on each pox now. Relax and let it work.”

I shut my eyes and do as told. A few moments later, Harrison’s tender hands have finished with my back. My eyes shoot open when I feel his fingers under the edge of my towel as it slides downward.

“Stop! That’s too much southern exposure,” I quip.

Harrison’s hands still at my command, but by now the towel only partially covers my behind. “I don’t have any pox
there
!” I squawk, blushing all over.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind checking,” the hot doctor asks, a wicked smile lurking in his voice.

“Don’t you dare check. I’m sure,” is my strangled reply. “I can put ointment there myself if I have to later.”

“Okay, turn over,” he says with a light tap on my bottom.

“I don’t need any help with my front,” I say, my face glowing.

“I’m going to the kitchen to get you some ginger ale.” He gives me an easy smile.

“Good idea,” I agree, grateful for a little privacy.

When Harrison returns several minutes later, I’m wearing a white cotton nightie and I have finished tending to the pox.

“Thanks.” I take a sip of the cold ginger ale. “My skin feels better from the ointment already. The bath and the clean sheets helped too. You are a lifesaver, Dr. Taylor.”

We both turn when Romeo lets out a happy yelp. Clearly, he agrees.

“Glad you think so,” Harrison says with a sardonic lift of his brows. “You too, Romeo.” He rewards Romeo with a thorough rubdown that makes him collapse with bliss. “I guess in a pinch a vet will do, huh?”