And yelped.

‘Is something wrong?’ Ryan enquired blandly.

‘My clothes…’ Abbey hauled her bedcovers up to her nose and glared. ‘What happened to my clothes?’

‘You sound as if you’re naked,’ Ryan complained. ‘Which, considering the amount of trouble Sister and I had getting you into a hospital gown, is a tad unappreciative. I know for a honeymoon you really should have something sheer and sexy-preferably black-but I’m afraid hospital green was all we could come up with.’

Abbey was no longer listening. She couldn’t care less what she was wearing. It was the identity of the person who’d dressed her-or rather who’d undressed her-that was important here.

‘Sister dressed me?’ she asked cautiously, sitting up with her bedclothes still up to her neck.

‘I helped, but only as far as was decent.’ Ryan smiled. ‘You don’t remember? Your clothes were disgusting. I was afraid they’d infect your scratches if we left you in them any longer.’

‘My T-shirt…’

‘I didn’t like it,’ Ryan said, as if that clinched the matter. ‘And your shorts were torn already.’

‘What have you done with my T-shirt and shorts?’ Abbey demanded in a voice that was loaded with portent For answer, Ryan pointed to a pair of scissors on the bedside table.

‘All gone.’ It was an imitation of Ted’s voice that he used when discussing a death. Pull of ghoul-like relish. ‘We disturbed you less by cutting them off. Ted took ‘em away to use as dusters down in the morgue. We figured that’s the best place for them. Now, if I were you, I’d eat some breakfast before it gets cold. Considering the amount of trouble Cook’s gone to on your behalf, letting this lot get cold would be a real shame.’

‘Ryan, I want my clothes.’

‘They’re in a million pieces.’ Ryan handed her a slice of toast. ‘Bite.’

Abbey bit. And glared.

‘Problem?’ Ryan enquired politely. He stood back with his arms folded and watched her-doctor watching interesting specimen. Ryan was dressed in fresh trousers and an open-necked, short-sleeved shirt. His wavy brown hair was neatly brushed. He looked like he’d had about twelve hours sleep instead of a scant six and he was showered and freshly shaved. Ryan Henry was a doctor in charge of his world again.