and Frazer moved up beside Callie as they waited for the all-clear to join him.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked, attempting another conciliatory smile, concerned she might be nervous about her first official flight.
Callie glanced at him with an expression as chill as the wintry weather. ‘Fine.’
‘Look, Callie, we started off on the wrong foot. I made a mistake. I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.’
He paused, filled with the sense that he was digging himself deeper into a hole. Not a flicker of interest or thawing showed in eyes that were the most unusual colour he had ever seen. They really were a true purple. He frowned, trying to reject an unexpected surge of attraction and get himself back on track. This apology apparently wasn’t working. Disconcerted, he was unable to remember a time when he had not been able to talk a woman round.
‘What’s the matter?’ she snapped at him, and he realised he had been staring.
‘Nothing.’ He gave himself a mental shake, drawn back to reality as the technicians cleared the aircraft and one of the guys opened the door for them. ‘I’ve just never met anyone with such amazing eyes.’
‘Oh, please. You don’t really find that kind of line works, do you?’
‘It wasn’t a line,’ he protested, cut by her scorn.
‘Shall we get on, Dr McInnes?’
Out of sorts, Frazer followed as Callie moved forward. Instinctively, he went to help her, but she batted his hands away.
‘I’m quite capable, thank you. I don’t need you pawing me.’
‘I wasn’t!’
She swung to face him, cold anger evident. ‘Let’s get something straight. Keep your hands and your corny chat-up lines to yourself and we’ll get on with our work just fine.’
Simmering at the injustice of it, Frazer tried to ignore her as they took their places. The helicopter came to life with a characteristic whine, the rotor blades picking up speed, and he had to focus on the emergency call that lay ahead. But he had a sinking feeling that being partnered with feisty, prickly and intriguingly attractive Callie Grogan was never going to work.
CHAPTER TWO
‘HELI-Med Echo-Two-Seven, clear to go.’
Craig’s voice, confirming take-off and their course to the map reference of the accident site, sounded through her earpiece as Callie strapped herself into her seat on board the helicopter and put on her helmet. She tested to ensure her microphone was functional. In flight it was noisy, and they needed the system to communicate with each other and the ground. The helicopter was new and state-of-the-art, complete with a comprehensive medical bulkhead with everything they would need to hand. There was also more internal space, so they could work on the patient during a flight and give them whatever treatment and monitoring was necessary. Callie forced herself to concentrate on double-checking equipment and supplies—anything but think about wretched Frazer McInnes, who had turned out to be every bit as bad as she’d expected.
‘Frazer might look like a playboy, he might even act like one sometimes, but I’ve never met a better doctor or a more loyal friend. There is no one else I would rather have on my side if I was injured, ill or in a tight spot.’
Quite an endorsement, Callie recalled, and she didn’t imagine Archie Stewart suffered fools gladly. But her own impressions of Frazer had confirmed all her worst fears about the man. Wicked. That was the first word that had come to mind when she had looked at him and been subjected to that practised, lethal smile. It was a smile that promised every kind of sensual sin and carved twin dimples in his lean cheeks. There was no doubt about it. By any standard Frazer was stunningly, impossibly gorgeous. He oozed charm and the kind of smouldering sexuality that made female knees weaken at fifty paces. His hair was cut short, the thick, lustrous strands having a silky black sheen, while the mischievous gleam in eyes the colour of melted dark chocolate was dangerous to any woman’s well-being. She didn’t even want to think about his mouth, or what those perfectly shaped mobile lips could do to a woman, how they would feel, how he would kiss, how … Stop it!
Callie was furious with the man. But she was even more furious with herself and her own inexplicable reaction to him. Those few heart-stopping moments when the unknown masculine hands had touched her had fired a shocking response through her body, stirring things—deep, surprising, scary things—she had not felt before. How could that be? Not only was the man a stranger, and reputed to go through women the way other people went through hot dinners, but she had assumed herself resistant, uninterested, immune. It must have been the surprise of the moment that had made her pulse race like a mad thing and caused an ache to knot low inside her, Callie reassured herself. Any other explanation was impossible—and far too frightening to consider.
‘ETA one minute,’ Craig informed them, drawing her from her disturbing thoughts.
An unwanted tingle raised the hairs on the back on her neck when Frazer’s throaty voice responded. ‘Any update on casualties?’ he asked, and she sneaked a glance at him. How could he sound sexy just asking a simple work-related question?
‘There are four reported, one with serious injuries.’ Craig paused a moment as he flew over the scene of the crash and looked for a safe place to land, bringing the aircraft down on the area of carriageway that had been cordoned off for them as close as possible to the site. ‘The fire service are cutting out a middle-aged woman now. You’re needed there.’
As the helicopter landed, Callie unstrapped herself and grabbed her pack, feeling a rush of adrenalin spill through her veins as she faced her very first call. Too bad it had to be in the company of Frazer McInnes, she groused to herself, following close on his heels as he ran towards the tangled wreckage. Her new boots, protected with steel toecaps and ankle supports, still felt cumbersome, while the full pack she carried was heavy, but she kept up as they were directed by a waiting policeman towards the worst of the injured. The other, less serious casualties, were already being assessed and taken to hospital by road.
‘Hello, Rory, what do we have?’ Frazer enquired as they came to a halt beside the mangled remains of a car.
‘Hi, Doc,’ the paramedic on scene greeted him, giving basic details of the patient and her condition, while his partner, Tim, remained in the car to monitor her as the firefighters worked. ‘Her name is Barbara Allen, fifty-one years old. We have a neck collar on her as a precaution and she’s receiving oxygen. She’s conscious, but having difficulty talking and breathing, and she’s complaining of chest pains. No head injury, and as far as we can tell her legs are clear. The problem was the buckling, and the way the steering column caved in to her chest and abdomen.’
Fearing internal injuries, Callie set out their packs and readied herself, waiting for their casualty to be freed. Another few moments and the firefighters had gently and skilfully removed the woman from her car, a backboard in place as a precaution. Frazer knelt opposite her, speaking reassuringly as he carried out his preliminary assessment.
‘Can you hear me, Barbara? My name’s Frazer, I’m a doctor, and this is Callie, a paramedic. I know you are scared, and in pain, but we’re going to do all we can to make you more comfortable and get you off to hospital,’ he told her, his voice calm, instilling confidence. Callie held Barbara’s hand, feeling the slight squeeze of her fingers as Frazer continued. ‘Are you hurting anywhere else but your chest, Barbara? Any pain in your tummy?’
‘No.’
