The Trouble with Temptation Read Online Free PDF Page A

sounded like. Then he gestured to Brannon. “Come on. I need to speak with Hannah. You’ll have to wait in the hall a moment. You’ll … understand why in a moment.”
    *   *   *
    Hannah stared outside.
    Fat, shiny green leaves blocked her view of the sky.
    They were magnolia leaves.
    She knew that.
    She also knew she loved magnolia trees and strawberries. She knew she hated raspberries and she knew her mother was dead.
    She could remember the son of a bitch who had been her stepfather and knew he’d died—choking on a mouthful of BBQ ribs as he had a massive heart attack, but he hadn’t suffered badly enough considering the hell he’d put her mother through.
    She also had a shameful secret, because she’d been there at the time.
    She could remember standing over him, frozen—not out of fear, but because as he struggled to breathe, she kept seeing the way he’d closed his fat fingers over his mother’s neck. Hannah had seen how her mother had struggled for air, time after time after time.
    It was odd how she could remember all of those things and the fact that she knew that she could have saved her stepfather. She had the knowledge. But she had done nothing. Not for the longest time. She’d just … frozen as she remembered how he’d used those big, meaty hands to hurt her mom and she couldn’t move.
    When she’d finally forced herself to do something, it had been too late.
    She could remember all of that.
    But she couldn’t remember where she lived. She couldn’t remember what she did for a living.
    She knew her name was Hannah—they’d told her. But she couldn’t remember it.
    She couldn’t remember if she had a car, she couldn’t remember what she’d been doing the night of the wreck—they had told her about that. She didn’t remember, although she could sure as hell believe it, because her body hurt .
    It was like her memory was a giant piece of Swiss cheese and there were entire chunks there—and entire chunks that weren’t there.
    One piece that was there … the man.
    The red-haired, sexy, god-like creature who’d stood in the door, staring at her as though the entire world had revolved around him seeing her.
    To her, it had felt like her heart had been waiting for just that moment to start beating again. Like it had been waiting for him . Like she’d had to see him before she could really function.
    Brannon.
    His name was Brannon.
    But she didn’t know how she knew that and she didn’t know how she knew him.
    The door swung open and she turned her head. That simple movement exhausted her, but when she saw who it was, she forced herself to roll over onto her side—facing away from the door.
    It was the doctor.
    She was fed up with doctors and she knew she wasn’t even close to done with them.
    “Hannah.”
    “What?” she asked wearily.
    Dr. Briscoe chuckled wryly. “You sound like you’re tired of me already, Hannah.”
    She flushed. “I’m sorry. I just…”
    “No, it’s alright. Trust me, I understand. Very few people get as fed up with doctors as those in the medical profession, I assure you.” He sat down on the chair near the bed and braced his elbows on his knees. As he leaned forward, he pressed the tips of his fingers together. He had a pensive look on his face, as though he was giving something a great deal of thought.
    “I…” She frowned. “In the medical profession. Does that mean—?”
    She stopped abruptly, going to lift her hands to her face, but she stopped. An image—a memory —superimposed over the hands she found herself staring at. Her own hands, wearing a pair of blood-streaked gloves, while the man next to her patted her shoulder. Hannah, there was nothing you or J.C. could have done. Nothing anybody could have done …
    “I know you,” she said quietly. “We—do we work together?”
    “In a manner of speaking. What are you remembering?”
    Looking up at him, she shook her head. “I’m not sure. Blood on my hands—no. There were