hold noisy parties for upset colleagues, or stay out overnight maybe? Did she really care? Unfortunately she might. Though she shouldn’t. He was on a temporary contract and would soon be gone again. It had taken months for her to trust Bernie enough to get close to him, not weeks, so she could forget all about getting to know this man. Hard to do, that. He just seemed to pop up in her mind whenever there was a free moment.
The front wheel wobbled in thick gravel. So much for concentrating on riding. Shoving the neighbour and the world out of her mind, she focused on getting to the top of the busy road without taking a break.
Harry had muscles in all the right places and made whatever he wore look superb. Of course she’d noticed. It would be rude not to. Some sights weren’t made to be ignored. Bet he did some form of sport or worked out. Was she so desperate for changes in her life she was hallucinating about the neighbour? Except Harry wasn’t a fantasy and her reactions to his physique were all too real. Oh, yes, real and solid and tempting. Damn it. Next stop, the library for a pile of books to keep her entertained until this feeling passed. Probably about when Harry left town.
Wheel-wobble. Again. Her cycling had taken a turn for the worse.
Deep breath, focus, right pedal down, left up. Left down, right up. That’s it. Careful, sharp bend and steep decline. Squeeze the brake, change gear. Concentrate.
It worked. Until the road straightened and the incline lessened, giving her nothing to concentrate on so hard. Nothing except the man persisting in getting in her head space. What would he be like in bed? He exuded confidence in everything else that she’d seen so it followed that—
Toot-toot.
Sienna swerved abruptly, away from the centre of the road, and towards—over—the edge. Her front wheel dropped abruptly, alarmingly. Her body flipped forward, her hands gripping the now useless handlebars, her legs still pumping, even though she was in freefall; down, down, down. Bushes tore at her, twisted the cycle left then right, and on downward. The momentum compounded the speed. More bushes, bigger now, snagging at her, tearing across her face, her arms. Then she was upside down, slamming the ground with her shoulder, tossed sideways, with the cycle she still held on to with a fierceness she couldn’t explain now twisted between her legs. Pain tore through her, then a thud.
Bounce. Bounce.
Slowing.
A tree blocked her path.
Thump.
Blackness engulfed her.
SIENNA BLINKED HER eyes open, gasped at the pain filling her body from every direction. ‘What happened? Where am I?’ There were dark clouds in her head, along with pulsing, banging symbols of pain. Dragging her eyelids up, she stared at the scene in front of her. Trees, bushes...
Darkness took over again.
‘Hello?’
She was having a nightmare. Any second now she’d wake up and find herself on her bike heading down the hill towards the beach. Bike. Hill. Rolling over and over.
‘Can you hear me?’
A groan escaped her constricted throat. She’d gone off the edge of the embankment, a sheer drop down to these bushes. The pain was really making itself known, as if her body had a grudge with her. In her legs and back, her arms, the left shoulder—sucking in a breath, she tried not to think about what that might mean. She needed to toughen up, check herself out instead of panicking. Work out what the damage was and make a plan for getting out of here.
Moving could be detrimental. Spinal damage is a real possibility.
‘Are you all right down there?’
That persistent voice was annoying. ‘Go away. I’m trying to think here.’
‘I don’t know if you can hear me but I’ve phoned for help.’
So the voice wasn’t in her head. There really was someone up on the road. She wasn’t alone. As she opened her mouth to holler a reply her lungs filled with air and her upper body moved. Pain splintered her and the blackness rolled in again.
Thwup, thwup, thwup.
The bushes flattened and the trees swayed. A helicopter filled the little view Sienna had of the sky when she next pulled her eyes open. A bright red-and-yellow rescue chopper. Gratitude swamped her. Whoever that man was who’d called for help, she owed him big time.
A figure attached to a thick rope was lowering in her direction. Help had arrived. In a pair of red overalls. She’d be out of here in no time. Then she’d be able to get patched up and back on her feet.
If my injuries aren’t serious.
A shudder tripped through her, her tightening muscles sending warning signals of pain to her brain. It was tempting to move, to try to sit up, to prove she was all right. The doctor in her kicked in. Stay still. Let the rescue crew do their job. But waiting had become difficult. What if she’d broken her spine? She was a paediatrician. She didn’t have time for learning to walk again, or never walking...
‘Hello, this is becoming a habit.’ A familiar, husky voice broke through her fear. ‘Harrison Frost, your neighbour.’
Harrison. ‘Not Harry, then.’ Harrison was way sexier than Harry. Ah? Hello? Head injury talking? Sex while smashed up on the side of a hill? Why not? That’d certainly be creating a new norm for her. Don’t forget, she told herself, that if she hadn’t been thinking about him she wouldn’t be lying here afraid to move.
‘Good, you’re cognitive. And yes, I go by Harry most of the time.’ The guy was snapping open the hooks that held him to the rope and giving the thumbs-up to someone above in the chopper, at the same time speaking into a radio. ‘Take it away.’
What were the odds he’d be the one coming to her rescue? But then, nothing seemed to be going right for her lately, so those were as short as the two-year-old with pneumonia she’d treated this week. She could only hope Harry was more forthcoming in his attitude as a doctor than as a neighbour. ‘You didn’t bring the music.’ Anything to keep from the pain getting stronger with every breath.
‘I would’ve if I’d known it was you who’d taken to flying off the side of roads.’ Harrison shucked out of his backpack. ‘Right, let’s check you out. You haven’t moved since coming to a stop against the tree?’ He began disentangling the cycle from her legs.
‘Of course not.’ Unless she’d moved while out cold. ‘I need a neck brace first. My left shoulder is possibly broken. My right ankle is giving me grief, but as for internal injuries I’m certain I’m in the clear.’ The pain throbbed up and down both legs. Bruising from the bike when she’d landed?
‘Leave those decisions to me. Obviously nothing wrong with your head. You’re stringing sentences together and enunciating clearly.’
‘I am a doctor.’ And it was his fault she’d ended up in this mess, tramping through her mind the way he had.
A
