Iron Cowboy / Seduced by the Rich Man: Iron Cowboy

“Tony the Dancer drove over to your house and fed him on his way here,” he said carelessly. “He’ll look after your cat until you’re able to go home.”

She was too groggy to wonder how Tony had gotten inside her house. The EMTs had locked it. She moved and grimaced. “I didn’t realize that an appendix could kill you.”

“It can if it perforates. Those stomach pains you were having were probably a symptom of chronic appendicitis,” he said.

“I guess so. I never thought it might be dangerous. How long have you been here?”

“Since they took you in to surgery,” he said surprisingly. “Tony and I went out to supper until you were in recovery, then we sat in the waiting room until they put you in a room.”

Her eyelids felt heavy. “It was nice of you to come.”

“We’re each other’s family, remember?” he asked, and he didn’t smile. “I take responsibilities seriously.”

“Thanks,” she said weakly.

“Not necessary. Try to go back to sleep. The more rest you get, the faster you’ll heal.”

She stared at him a little drowsily. “Will you be here, when I wake up?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

She tried to smile, but she wasn’t able to get her lips to move. She fell back into the comfortable softness of sleep.

It hurt to move. She tried to turn over, and it felt as if her stomach was going to come apart. She groaned.

The big man who went around with the ogre came and stood over her. He had large dark eyes, and heavy black eyebrows. His dark, wavy hair was in a ponytail. He had an olive complexion. He was frowning.

“Do you need something for pain?” he asked in a voice like rumbling thunder.

Her eyes managed to focus. He looked foreign. But he had that Georgia drawl. Maybe he was of Italian heritage and raised in the South.

He grinned, showing perfect white teeth. “I’m not Italian. I’m Cherokee.”

She hadn’t realized that she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. The painkilling drugs seemed to be affecting her in odd ways. “You’re Mr. Danzetta,” she said. “I thought you were a hit man.”

He laughed out loud. “I prevent hits,” he replied. “I’m Tony. Nobody calls me Mr. Danzetta.” The frown was back. “It hurts, huh?”

“It does,” she managed weakly.

He touched the call button. A voice came over it. “May I help you?”

“This young lady could use something for pain,” he replied.

“I’ll be right there.”

Minutes later, a nurse came into the room, smiling. “Dr. Coltrain left orders so that you could have something for pain.”

“It feels like my body’s been cut in half,” Sara confessed.

“This will help you feel better,” she said, adding some thing to the drip that was feeding her fluids. “It will be automatic now.”

“Thanks,” Sara said, grimacing. “I sure never thought losing a tiny little thing like an appendix would hurt so much.”

“You were in bad shape when you came in,” she replied. She glanced at Tony the Dancer curiously. “Are you a relative?”

“Who, me? No. I work for Mr. Cameron.”

The nurse was confused. “Is he related to Miss Dobbs?”

Tony hesitated. “Sort of.”

“No, he’s not,” Sara murmured, smiling. “But Mr. Cameron doesn’t have any family left, and neither do I. So we said we’d take care of each other if one of us got sick.”

“The boss said that?” Tony asked, his dark eyebrows arching.

The nurse frowned. “How can you be deaf with ears like that?” she wondered.

Tony glared at her. “I am not deaf.”

“I should think not,” she agreed, paying deliberate attention to his large ears.

“Listen, I may have big ears, but you’ve got a big mouth,” he shot right back.

The pert little brunette gave him a gimlet stare. “The better to bite you with, my dear,” she drawled. “You’ve been warned.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at him before she turned back to Sara. “If you need me, just call. I’m on until midnight.”

“Thanks,” Sara told her.

She winked, gave the bodyguard a glance and waltzed out of the room.

Tony made a rough sound in his throat. “My ears are not big,” he muttered.

Sara wouldn’t have dared disagree.

He glowered. “People are supposed to be nice to you in hospitals.”

“Only when you’re sick,” Sara told him, smiling. “Thanks, Tony,” she said as the pain began to diminish, just a little.

“No problem.”

“Where’s Mr. Cameron?”

“He had a phone call to return,” he said, and looked worried.

“Do you go everywhere with him?”

“Well, not everywhere,” he replied. “He gets antsy if I follow him into the restroom.”