The Cowboy's Redemption: BWWM Billionaire Western Romance Read Online Free PDF Page B

who gave more than their worth, and then left a few minutes before their shift ended.
    Melinda hated men like Richards. She hated that she had to do twice the amount of work to receive half the amount of credit he got.
    Storming down the halls, Melinda composed herself enough to down a hot cup of coffee, before she made her rounds. The only way she could clear her head was if she got another challenge.
    Her pager began to beep and chirp, and when she glanced down at the number she felt a familiar thrill of adrenaline seep into her blood.
    It was time to work.
    --

Chapter 9
    --
    Warren’s neck was as sore as his heart. Aching and throbbing in tandem to the rhythm in his chest, Warren waited as quietly as he could until his next dosage of pain killers. At this point, they were the only relief he could get from all kinds of pain, since they were strong enough to pull him under a drift of dreamless sleep. He could forget about Alana, about the pain of having such disinterested parents, about being stuck and alone in this godforsaken little hospital… he could forget about a lot of things, and when he woke, it’d be to a pleasant numbness in his system and the lovely face of Doctor Reese.
    “Sorry,” the woman said, all tired lines and simple colors. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    “You didn’t,” Warren admitted. “I’ve been awake for a little while.”
    She gave him a soft smile, and for the first time in two weeks, she took a seat by his bed with a sigh. “We’ve been having problems trying to contact your personal doctor,” Doctor Reese explained, settling on the chair with crossed arms and slightly haunched shoulders. Warren recognized the stance almost as easily as recognizing his own reflection. “Is there a reason for that?”
    “Yeah,” Warren replied, his fingers fiddling with a wrinkle in his sheets. “He’s an asshole.” She blinked, thinly veiled surprise flashing through her dark irises.
    “Is that a personal or a professional opinion?”
    He let out a short huff of black amusement, “Little bit of both. You’ll have better luck reaching President Obama than you would that guy. He only answers to my family.”
    “And you’re family is…what,” she said, thin eyebrows arching, “incommunicado as well?”
    “You’d find them easily,” Warren replied. “Although, I doubt getting any information out of them will get you anywhere.”
    At this point, his doctor sighed, reaching up to tug that same piece of stubborn hair out of her face and behind her ear. “Warren, we can’t exactly treat you if we don’t have your medical information. We’ve gotten your history just fine, and some other important things as well, but I need to know more about your arrhythmia, if you’ve had a history of heart problems, if it’s a genetic issue…etc. I’ll be frank, I’m concerned.”
    “About me, or the fact I’m not providing any answers?”
    She gave him an earnest look, “Both. Why is it that a thirty year old man, wealthy beyond belief and with such a presence in the media not have a single pot of flowers sent in?”
    Warren shrugged, and he was pleased to feel the sensation didn’t hurt as much as it did two weeks ago. “I don’t like flowers.”
    “Or a single visit?”
    “I don’t have many friends.”
    “Not even from his own family?”
    Warren let out a short sigh, feeling agitated. Doctor Reese leaned in, reaching a slim hand to press against the edge of his bed and he noticed her fingers were just inches from his own. He couldn’t help but notice that.
    “You know what that tells me about your story, Warren?” She asked softly. He didn’t like the rawness hiding behind her eyes, and it was as if she had managed to peel back his own walls by doing so to hers. “That you’re alone, and that you have no one.”
    “Yeah, well it takes one to know one,” he replied scathingly. Doctor Reese’s lips tightened just a fraction, even if her eyes remained on him, he could see