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And speaking of pigheaded males—why was she just now finding out Antonio had suffered a broken leg? It probably needed to be reset and it must pain him something awful and...it wasn’t her business. She’d gotten him in front of a doctor; now someone with a medical degree could talk sense into the man, who apparently thought he’d turned immortal.
Dr. Barnett settled into a wing-back chair with a clipboard he’d pulled from his bag of tricks. After a quick back-and-forth with the patient to determine Antonio’s age, approximate height and weight, the doctor took his heart rate and peered into his throat.
“Now, then.” The doctor contemplated Antonio. “Ms. Hopewell indicated that you have trouble remembering your past. Can you tell me more about that?”
“No,” Antonio said smoothly, but Caitlyn heard the obstinacy in his voice. “You’re here because I have headaches. Make them go away.”
Caitlyn frowned. That was the thing he was most worried about?
The doctor asked a few pointed questions about the nature of Antonio’s pain, which he refused to answer. Dr. Barnett pursed his lips. “I can write you a prescription for some heavy-duty painkillers, but I’d like to do a CT scan first. I’m concerned about your purported memory loss coupled with headaches. I’d prefer to know what we’re dealing with before treating the symptoms.”
“No tests. Write the prescription,” Antonio ordered and stood, clearly indicating the appointment was over whether the doctor wished it to be or not. “Ms. Hopewell misrepresented the nature of the medical care I need.”
Caitlyn didn’t move from her chair. “How long will the CT scan take? Will you get results immediately or will it only lead to more tests? Will you also look at his leg?”
Someone had to be the voice of reason here.
“It doesn’t matter, because that’s not the problem,” Antonio cut in with a scowl. “I’m not sick. I’m not an invalid, and my leg is fine. I just need something to make my headaches manageable.”
Dr. Barnett nodded. “Fine. I’ll write you a prescription for a painkiller, but only for enough pills to get you through the next few days. If you go to the radiology lab and get the CT scan, I’ll give you more.”
“Blackmail?” Antonio’s lips quirked, but no one would mistake it for amusement. “I’ll just find another doctor.”
“Perhaps.” Dr. Barnett shrugged. “Hollywood is certainly full of dishonest medical practitioners who will write prescriptions for just about anything if someone is willing to pay enough. Just keep in mind that many of those someones wind up in the morgue. I will never be a party to putting one of my patients there.”
That was enough to convince Caitlyn she’d selected the right doctor, and she wasn’t going to stand by and let Antonio destroy an opportunity to get the help he needed, not when he had three very good reasons to get better the medically approved way. “Dr. Barnett, please write the prescription for the amount of pills you think is appropriate and leave me the information about the radiology lab. We’ll discuss it and get back to you.”
Antonio crossed his arms, his expression the blackest it had been all day, but thankfully he kept his mouth closed instead of blasting her for interfering.
The doctor hastily scrawled on his pad and tore off the top page, handing it to Caitlyn with a business card for the radiology lab. She saw him out and shut the front door, assuming Antonio had stayed holed up in his room to work off his mood.
But when she turned, he was leaning against the wall at the other end of the foyer, watching her with crossed arms and a hooded, hard look. His expression wasn’t as black as it had been, but somehow it was far more dangerous.
Startled, she backed up against the door, accidentally trapping her hands behind her. Feeling oddly exposed, she yanked them free and laced her fingers together over her abdomen, right where a strange sort of hum had started.
“I’m not getting a CT scan,” he said succinctly. “I didn’t ask you to call the doctor so you could railroad me into a bunch of useless tests. I had enough of doctors in Indonesia who couldn’t fix me.”
She shook her head, not about to back down. This was too important. “But what if the tests help? Don’t you want to get your memory back?”
“Of course.” A hint of vulnerability flitted through his gaze and the hum inside her abdomen sped up. “There’s only one thing that’s helped with that so far and it wasn’t a doctor.”
