Drop Dead Gorgeous by Linda Howard

a cop. When the cop in question also happens to be a former pro football player, you just have to know going in that you're dealing with a personality that can kick ass and take names.
    Sometimes, I admit, I deliberately try to get him going, just because it's so much fun, but this time I was on the level. He knew it, too, so he reined in his natural ten- dency to issue orders. "Okay. After work
    I'll go home and get my stuff. I don't know what time I'll get to your place, though, so make sure you have something to eat before Siana leaves."
    "You don't have to stay with me, I'll be fine by myself," I said, because it was the polite thing to say.
    "Yeah, right," he said with something that sounded suspiciously like a snort. He was smart enough that he didn't even think of listening to me. I would have been so pissed if he'd left me to fend for myself when I had a concussion. Oh, Siana could have stayed with me, but I sort of looked at it as Wyatt's duty, part of the package deal that we'd agreed to by getting engaged. I took care of him, he took care of me. Simple. Though of course so far he hadn't needed taking care of, unless you want to count erections in that category, but that was okay with me because I shudder at the thought of him being hurt in any way. I loved him so much I couldn't stand the thought of that, plus he'd probably be a horrible patient.
    Anyway, I let the sarcastic comment pass, so he kissed me and left. Siana , with her exquisite timing, came sauntering into the room a few minutes after he'd gone. "How'd he take it?" she asked.
    "I think he thought we really were discussing his dick, as he put it." I made a little face. "As far as being caught eavesdropping, that didn't bother him at all. But I managed to work it into an agreement that I could remodel and redecorate his house, so that's good."
    A look of admiration crossed her face. "I'm not certain how you segued from eavesdropping to decorating, but the end result is what counts."
    Once again, I didn't want to explain about orgasms in the pantry, so I just smiled. Sometimes a younger sister just needs to look up to her older sister.
    We passed the afternoon watching soaps, which was interesting. Siana told me she had heard that nothing happened in soaps except on Fridays, and I think that must be true. We watched one attempted murder, one kidnapping, and probably fourteen couples have sex, an impressive tally for just two hours.
    We were in the middle of Oprah when a doctor came in and introduced herself. She was in her mid-fifties, tired, and you could tell only her intense focus was getting her through her rounds, so I didn't give her any grief about not being there sooner. The I.D. badge clipped to the pocket of her white lab coat read " Tewanda Hardy, M.D." She checked my eyes, read my chart, asked a few questions, then told me the nurse would give me a list of instructions and I could go home. She was out of the room before I could say more than a hurried "thank you."
    Finally!
    Siana got my clothes out of the closet, and while she called both Mom and Wyatt to let them know I was going home, I carefully eased into the bathroom to change. The outfit Mom had brought, pants and a blouse, was a very soft, flowing linen and rayon blend that wouldn't rasp on any of my scrapes, and the blouse buttoned down the front so I didn't have to pull anything on over my head. Having on real clothes again made me feel much better, even though exerting myself that much made my headache worse. I don't know how I could describe myself as feeling better, but I did. Clothes will do that for me.
    A nurse came by with some paperwork for me to sign, a list of don'ts until the headache was completely gone, and that was pretty much it. I already knew how to take care of scrapes. No meds were prescribed; I could take over-the-counter stuff for the headache, if needed. If needed? Had no one ever told the members of the medical profession how a concussion felt ?
    I had to be