her hands and feet. Had she been unconsciously checking again to see that she hadn’t damaged her spine? It had been her biggest fear when he’d arrived, and who could blame her? Cycling accidents were notorious for shoulder injuries, but spinal damage was up there too.
His radio barked into life. ‘Harry, are you receiving? This is Ginger.’
Their pilot. ‘Harry receiving loud and not so clear. What’s up?’
‘You’re stuck there for a while yet, I’d say. What’s the situation with your patient?’
‘GCS four.’ Not bad considering how rapid her descent must’ve been, and the bone-jarring—if not breaking—halt against the tree. But the score could change rapidly, dropping to a dangerous level if Sienna got too cold or there was internal bleeding going on he hadn’t discovered. But all indicators said she was lucky there. He turned his back on her, just in case she wasn’t as out of it as he believed. ‘Don’t let that fool you. I want her out of here ASAP. Her temperature has taken a dive since the hail came across.’
‘Roger. Understood. I’m talking to the weather gods every few minutes but so far they’re ignoring me.’
‘Keep at it.’
‘I’ll get back to you in thirty unless the all-clear comes through. Hang in there and keep her safe, man.’
As if he’d do anything else. Keeping safe came first, especially for his patients. Not so much for himself. He’d always been a bit of a risk-taker, snowboarding off mountain ranges and deep-water diving in shark-infested waters; though with that one there’d been a team of experts at his back. Not that his parents would’ve noticed if things went pear-shaped. His brothers understood his apparent recklessness, though they didn’t condone it, but to their credit they left him to his own decisions, something he appreciated almost more than anything. They weren’t meant to feel guilty for him copping all the blame their mother had dished out for disasters big and small when they were young—and not so young. He was the cause of her disappointment with how life had served her, so his brothers had been spared the vitriol. Because they’d been wanted, planned for. Unlike him.
Harry swallowed the familiar bile. These days, since his mother had taken over control of the multinational company his grandfather had created, the family was more divided than ever. He and his brothers were together in their need to get on and make lives for themselves, while their parents fought endless battles between themselves over who was in charge of the company. His siblings had found love with wonderful women and dived right into their own families, putting distance between themselves and the parents who might’ve wanted them but didn’t show much affection towards them. Finding a woman to love and have a family with was not something Harry planned on doing. His one and only serious relationship years ago had turned out to be as nasty as his parents’ one, and confirmed his belief he did not want that for the rest of his days. Just as he didn’t want to be told to try harder, become greater, aim higher. If someone couldn’t love him for who he was then he wouldn’t bother. He’d learned to be happy with his single status; he just wasn’t always so careful with himself.
He reached for Sienna’s wrist. What was her pulse now? Her wrist was slight and her skin satiny. If anyone around here had a high pulse rate it was him.
‘So you’re a doctor, and a cyclist. What else interests you?’ he asked into the wind-tossed space in an attempt to distract himself from the heat tripping up his arm from where his fingers still touched her skin. Lowering her arm, he pulled back. ‘I know loud music isn’t one of your favourites, Doc Frosty.’
He barked a harsh laugh. Doc Frosty and Dr Frost stuck together on a hillside.
Ever since the night she’d stormed up his drive he’d been aware of her. Or rather, of how often she wasn’t at home. It made sense now he knew her profession. Putting in long hours came with the territory. Which was one reason he loved his work. There was no time for anything else other than light, short relationships with women and easy-going friendships.
Those odd moments of longing for something he couldn’t explain that came in the middle of a night shift when there was nothing happening but waiting in the tedious dark for a call that he always hoped wouldn’t end badly for the victims were to be ignored. The unsettling need for something, someone, had to be banished. He was his own person and, once free of his mother’s blame game and his wife’s endless demands to be someone he wasn’t, he’d vowed he’d never let someone else dictate how he lived, or where, or why.
His brothers lived the lives of their choice, and encouraged him to do the same, though they weren’t always keen when he leapt off mountains with nothing more than a board strapped to his feet for safety. They and their families were his support system, the people he loved most. There wasn’t room for anyone else. He’d tried once. Never again.
His eyes tracked across Sienna’s exhausted face. Yes, she cranked up his libido something wicked. No, she wasn’t going to become important to him other than as a patient at this point in time. Yes, he wanted to learn more about what made her tick. No, he didn’t have any intention of spending time with her.
No longer than it took to share a bottle of wine, at any rate.
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