~~~~~~ Part 1 by Terescia Harvey ~~~~~~

Sam kept her head down and her eyes on the floor while she held the phone to her ear and waited for the receptionist to find out why she'd been beeped.

How could she have behaved like such a child earlier? Then to be found passed out on the couch and to wake up in Holt's arms. Heat stole into her cheeks and she wondered if the blush would become permanent soon. She found it hard to believe the number of times she'd made a fool of herself in front of this man. Well, it was about to stop. She was an adult and she could control herself.

"Samantha?"

"Yes," she answered, recognizing the soft voice of her Physician's Assistant. "What did you need?"

"It's your uncle. He's complaining of lightheadedness and sudden difficulty breathing. Nothing serious, but he's asking for you and won't let anyone else treat him." She paused. "You haven't said anything, but I know you've been treating him after hours. Is there something specific I should be looking for?"

Samantha gripped the phone tightly. Her heart hammered in her chest, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Darn him. Her oath to her uncle weighed on her, but she refused to sit back and watch as his silence killed him.

Holt's hand touched her shoulder. Startled, she looked up and caught his gaze. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head negatively, then dropped eye-contact with him. Her PA was waiting for a response. "Listen, he's recently been diagnosed with type II diabetes. Give him the normal treatment and I'll be right there. If he refuses to let you, go ahead and tell him that I've informed you of his condition, okay?"

"Sure thing."

Sam turned off the phone. The guys were just standing around waiting for her to say something. "I have to go to the clinic." She stood up and for a second a feeling of dizziness left her wobbling on her feet.

Holt reached for her. "You aren't going by yourself. Not in this condition."

Josh stepped forward. "I agree with--What was it? Holt?"

"Officer Brennon to you."

At Holt's growled words, Josh just shrugged and grinned.

Holt glowered, then rolled his shoulders, took a deep breath, and said, "Sorry. I sounded like a real ass."

Josh's grin widened. "Yep. Sure did."

Samantha noticed the byplay, but decided not to mention the tension radiating from Holt. "I just need a minute, then I'll be fine."

"Yeah, so what?" But it wasn't a question. Holt held onto her arm and walked her to the door.

Once outside, Samantha shook off his hold and headed for her car. Holt's hand wrapped around her upper arm just as she reached for the door handle.

"Didn't I just tell you that I wasn't going to let you drive to the clinic in this condition? If you try to be stubborn, I'll have to arrest you."

Sam's eyes widened. Was he serious? One look at his face convinced her that he wasn't.

"Funny. Real funny. But I don't think--Ahhh! What are you doing?"

Her last words came out as a screech as Holt swung her up into his arms. She grasped wildly for his shoulders as he carried her bodily toward his cruiser. Beneath her palms, she felt his strong muscles bulge with each step. The sensation of being carried was unique, something she'd read about many times, but never once felt. She liked the reality much better than the fantasy.

At first she resisted the urge she had to lean her head into his strong chest. But as they came closer to his vehicle, she changed her mind. What would it hurt just to feel his heartbeat for a brief moment?

Her head nestled under his chin and her ear picked up the sound of his pounding heart, its speeding rhythm contrasting with his slowing steps.

They reached the cruiser. Holt lowered her to her feet. Slowly.

"I can drive to the clinic by myself."

"I don't want you to."

Sam wanted to stand her ground. She was a strong, independent woman, who didn't need a man to take care of her. She'd had to depend on herself for a long time when she was working in Houston. She'd dealt with crazed patients, and distraught family members of crazed patients, even faced a stalker. She shouldn't be feeling such a strong urge to let this man, whom she wasn't even sure she liked, assume control and direct her actions.

But she was.

She wanted to let him drive her to the clinic. And since she was a strong, independent woman, she wouldn't let herself refuse. As her grandfather had often said, there was no sense cutting off her nose to spite her face.

"You can drive..." At that moment, it occurred to Sam that strong women also knew what they wanted and never hesitated to go after it. "But you're going to owe me big time." She smiled then, ignoring Holt's perplexed look. "And I will collect."

She was nothing if not a strong woman.

~~~~~~ Part 2 by Renee Reed ~~~~~~

To say Samantha was concerned for her patient was an understatement.

Once they began the short drive from Sam's home to the clinic, Holt noticed that she immediately dropped her playful manner. Not that he understood what she'd meant when she said he'd owe her and that she meant to collect—hell, she was a woman after all, and who understood anything that went through a woman's mind?—but he was sure that her teasing manner was a defense mechanism she'd raised to hold off whatever thoughts were causing her to bite her nails. He'd never noticed her do that before.

Oh, hell. He'd known her less than forty-eight hours. What did he really know about her?

He knew she was an intelligent, caring, and beautiful woman. He also knew she was a little bit loco. Yep, her being crazy would certainly explain why she'd run from a police officer, why she had seventeen traffic violations, or more importantly why she thought he'd allow her to drive to the clinic on her own after finding her unconscious.

He also knew more disturbed her than her recent fainting spell. She'd obviously been embarrassed to be found in the prone position, if the color that had rushed from her neck to her cheeks was any indication. But a little embarrassment didn't seem like enough to cause such a strong willed woman this kind of distress.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I'm fine. I just have to get to the clinic." Her voice broke just a bit on the last part of her declaration.

"Who's at the clinic?" He knew that whoever was waiting for her there had to be important. He tamped down on the sudden unreasonable surge of anger and jealousy. Who was important enough to her to bring on this kind of anxiety? Judging by her reaction, this wasn't just any patient.

"I can't tell you."

He glanced her way and noted that she'd turned, nearly facing the door, and was now staring out the window. He likened her expression to that of a lost, helpless child. The inadequacy that filled him was unnerving. He wanted to stop the vehicle right then and there to comfort her, while another part of him wanted to shake her until she felt she could trust him enough to confide her worries.

He did neither. Instead, Holt reined in the unruly feelings, determined to save them for later. He flipped on the sirens.

Startled, Samantha jerked around to face him, eyes bright. "So it's okay for you to speed in an emergency but not me?"

He couldn't help but grin at her disgruntled tone. "I'm trained to drive fast in emergency situations. You aren't."

As if that was all the answer she needed, he turned his attention back to the road. He should have known better.

"Well then you'll just have to teach me."

Holt, given another excuse to be close to her, shrugged nonchalantly, and tried to ignore the warmth spreading inside him. Just the thought of being close to her made his chest tighten. What the hell was she doing to him?

The realization came to Holt that whatever she was doing, he didn't want her to stop. And with those strange feelings came determination. After this crisis was over, he would to make her forget all about golden boy.

One way or another.

~~~~~~

Darn men! Each and every last one of them.

Why did her uncle have to be so stubborn? Why couldn't he have allowed her to run more tests? Why had she listened to him in the first place? Wasn't she the doctor? If this turned out to be something more serious than a dizzy spell…

No. She wouldn't think like that. She was a good doctor. He would be all right.

Oh, God. But what if he wasn't? How was she ever going to explain to Aunt Martha that she'd kept this from her?

No. She wouldn't let anything happen to him. For his sake. For Aunt Martha's.

For hers.

He had always been the father she wished for, nothing at all like the father she'd had. Uncle Oscar was kind, gentle, loving, attentive, but most of all stubborn. She just hoped that his stubbornness didn't kill him.

 When Holt's hand gently pulled her fingers away from her mouth and linked them with his, Samantha could do no more than hold tight. Funny how just that one connection with him eased her fears. The feeling of being safe and supported was so strong that she knew could face anything as long as this man was by her side.

But he wasn't really, she reminded herself with a quick look in his direction. If today's little episode was any indication of how he truly felt about her, she knew it wasn't likely that he found her irresistible. And if he did, he didn't seem too thrilled by the attraction.

No, just a little while ago he'd hunted her down just to give her another ticket.

Well, she didn't exactly need him, she assured herself. She could handle anything on her own. She'd proved that already.

Still, what would it hurt to have someone to lean on? Samantha chanced another look his way, only to find he was staring at her. Just as quickly as their eyes met, his returned to the road. The wail of the sirens reminded her that he was a police officer. He had a duty to serve and protect. That might be the only reason he was with her, and she was having these feelings of...well...hero worship, for lack of a better description.

But she couldn't tell him about her problems, a voice echoed in her head. Holt couldn't know. Uncle Oscar didn't want anyone on the force to know about his condition. If anyone found out, Uncle Oscar feared he'd be forced into early retirement. He had served as Sheriff much longer than he needed to, really. He was quickly becoming too old to enjoy retirement. Maybe Holt's knowing would be the best thing. But that wasn't her decision to make.

And as far as her own problems, she just wasn't ready to share. Or put another person in jeopardy. No matter if that person was trained to handle danger better than she would ever be.

The decision was taken out of her hands when they arrived at the clinic. The first person they saw was Aunt Martha rushing from her car.

If Aunt Martha had been called....

"Oh, God." Sam muttered. She didn't wait for Holt to stop the vehicle before she jumped out and ran to the entrance.