Rescued By Her Mr Right. Alison Roberts

smiling as she pulled on a lead apron so that she could stay close to May and make sure she didn’t move. She might be determined to get back to her more exciting position in the ICU but moments like these—when you got a glimpse of the personalities within these frail old bodies—were a joy.

      * * *

      Harry the dog clearly adored the beach.

      As soon as he was let off his leash, he ran straight into the surf, barking in excitement. Jack had a moment of alarm when the black head vanished beneath the foam of a breaking wave but then he reappeared to bound out of the water, pausing only to shake himself vigorously before heading back in.

      ‘I’m tempted to have a swim myself.’

      ‘Go on, then.’

      ‘Will you come in, too?’

      ‘Are you kidding? I’m not in my bathers.’

      ‘You’re in shorts, same as me. I reckon they’d be pretty much dry by the time we walk back to your apartment.’

      ‘I only came to watch. And to see how hard it is to walk on the sand. This is the first time I’ve been on a beach since the accident.’

      They’d already come through some soft sand after the grassy area with its picnic tables and barbecue areas that separated this small beach from the road that led back to her apartment block.

      ‘How hard is it?’

      Harriet didn’t meet his gaze. ‘The jury’s still out. If you go and have a swim, maybe I’ll take my brace off and see how I go.’ She flashed him a wry smile. ‘That way, you won’t see if I fall flat on my face.’

      There was something more than trepidation in that smile. It was more like...embarrassment? About being seen to try something and fail, or was it more than that? Whatever it was, Jack could read the signal.

      ‘You’re on.’ He kicked off his jandals and stripped off his T-shirt, leaving them beside where Harriet was sitting. Then he strode towards the water, pausing only to pick up a stick of driftwood that looked like something a dog like Harry would love to chase.

      He’d been astonished to hear that admission that this was the first time Harriet had been on the beach since her accident. Even during the period that she’d relied on crutches, the distance between here and her apartment would have been manageable.

      Everybody knew how much she loved the beach. She hadn’t been a competitive surfer, like Pete, but he’d seen the way her face used to light up when she talked about the thrill of riding waves. And she’d been part of the surfing community. Competition days had been exciting events on her social calendar and she’d been very supportive of Pete’s ambitions.

      Maybe that was it. Maybe she’d been avoiding the beach all this time because it reminded her of the man she’d obviously been head over heels in love with. Why hadn’t he thought of that? How insensitive had he been to suggest that she come with him and Harry the dog this evening? Everybody had known how much she’d adored Pete. She’d made light of the breakup of that relationship the other evening but he wasn’t convinced that she was over it that well.

      How could she be? She’d been living with the guy, for heaven’s sake. Committed. He’d been crushed enough when she’d rejected his offer of a date. How much more devastating would it be to have the offer of a lifetime commitment thrown back at you? Did you ever really get over that kind of a blow? Enough to trust anyone with your whole heart again?