She stared at him. “You can’t make me go!”

He raised an eyebrow, daring her to defy him.

“You can’t! It’s my personal business.”

Scratching at the gray stubble on his chin, he sized her up. “I could take you off Sinclair if I wanted to.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Bet?”

“I can’t believe this! We’ve got two homicides going here, and you’re gonna pull rank on me over a doctor’s appointment?”

“Whatever is taking you to the doctor must be significant enough for Nick to program a reminder into your phone. So you’re keeping the appointment, and you can rejoin the investigation when you’re done.” He checked his watch. “You’d better get going.”

“I should’ve left you where you belong—on desk duty.” With one last furious glance at his laughing face, she stormed off to her car, leaving him to find his own way to GW. “Goddamned bossy men,” she muttered. “Why can’t they mind their own freaking business? It’s my stomach. They don’t need to be all up in my grill about it.” Her cell phone rang again, and this time it was Nick. “What?”

“Hello to you, too, babe. Where are you?”

“In the car.”

“On the way to?”

“I’m going! For Christ’s sake, will you back off and leave me alone?” He laughed, and she saw red. “What the hell is so funny?”

“You are.”

“I’m too busy for this shit. I’ve got two bodies to contend with and no time for doctors.”

“You’d better keep that appointment, Samantha. I mean it. You’ve put this off long enough.”

“Stop bugging me! I don’t need a freaking keeper!”

“Clearly, you do or you would’ve taken care of this a long time ago.”

“It doesn’t bother me. It only bothers you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It does bother me to see the woman I love crippled with pain on a regular basis.”

“It’s not that often,” she said, ignoring the ache circulating in her gut as the conversation escalated into a fight.

“It’s often enough. Now, stop bitching and drive. Call me when you’re done. I want to know what he says. Oh, and tell Harry I said hi.”

“Screw you. Tell him yourself.”

“Love you, too, babe.”

Harry made her wait thirty minutes in a cold exam room wearing nothing more than the stupid paper gown they’d made her put on—with nothing under it. God, she hated doctors. Due to all the crap she’d been through trying to get pregnant and then the miscarriages, one of them an ectopic pregnancy that had nearly killed her, she had stayed far away from doctors the last few years. And for good reason: they kept you waiting when you had more important stuff to do. Like hunting down murderers.