A Bride for the Runaway Groom. Scarlet Wilson

blink when he appeared at the desk. ‘Name?’

      ‘Will Carter.’

      She lifted her eyebrows and gave a half-smile. ‘Oh, it’s you. Did one of those brides finally give you the smack you deserved?’

      He couldn’t help but smile. ‘No. I’m all out of brides at the moment—have been for a little while.’ He glanced towards Rose, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. ‘It was just a friend who did this.’

      A nurse walked towards them and the receptionist handed her a card. ‘Will Carter, the Runaway Groom. Head injury.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘What a surprise.’

      The nurse gave a little grin and nodded her head. ‘This way.’

      ‘Come on.’ He followed the nurse down the corridor and gestured to Rose to follow them.

      Her footsteps faltered. It was obvious she didn’t really want to come along. But Will had just been hit by a brainwave. And a perfect way to make it work.

      * * *

      ‘I’ll just sit in the waiting room,’ she said quickly. She’d no wish to see Will Carter getting his head stitched. Even the thought of it made her feel a bit queasy.

      ‘No, you won’t.’ His voice was smooth as silk. ‘I want you with me.’

      The nurse’s eyebrows rose just a little as she pulled back the cubicle curtains. ‘Climb up on the trolley, Mr Carter, and I’ll go and get some supplies to clean your wound.’

      She disappeared for a second while Rose stood shifting self-consciously on her feet, not quite sure where to put herself.

      ‘What’s wrong, Rose? Don’t like hospitals?’

      ‘What? No, I don’t mind them. I just would have preferred to sit in the waiting room.’

      He lifted the peas from his head. ‘Don’t you want to see the damage you’ve done?’

      Her face paled. ‘But I didn’t mean to. I mean, you know that. And what did you expect? You climbed into bed with a perfect stranger.’

      The nurse cleared her throat loudly as she wheeled the dressing trolley into the cubicle.

      Rose felt the colour flood into her cheeks. Twenty-seven years old and she was feeling around five. ‘I didn’t mean... I mean, nothing happened...’ She was stumbling over her words, her brain so full of embarrassment that she couldn’t make sense to herself, let alone to anyone else.

      The nurse waved her hand as she walked to the sink and started scrubbing her hands. ‘Everything’s confidential here. My lips are sealed.’

      ‘But there’s nothing to—’

      Will was laughing. He leaned over and grabbed her hand. ‘Leave it, Rose. You’re just making things worse.’ As he relaxed back against the trolley, his hand tugged her a little closer. There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes. Mr Charming wasn’t flustered at all and it irked her.

      ‘I kind of like seeing you like this.’ Even his voice sounded amused. She’d never wanted out of somewhere so badly. She could practically hear the waiting room calling her name.

      ‘Seeing me like what?’ she snapped. The nurse had finished washing her hands and was opening a sterile pack and some equipment on the dressing trolley. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face.

      Will’s dimple appeared. ‘You know—babbling. Violet doesn’t get like this at all. It’s quite nice to see you flapping around.’

      ‘I’m not flapping around. This is all your fault anyway—and you know it.’

      The nurse lifted the peas from Will’s head and deposited them in the bin. ‘Youch,’ she said, pulling a head lamp a little closer. ‘It looks as though you might have a tiny fragment in your wound. What caused your injury?’

      ‘She did.’

      ‘A vase.’

      Their voices came out in unison. Rose was horrified. He’d just told the nurse this was her fault. The nurse’s eyes flickered from one to the other. Thank goodness she was bound by confidentiality, otherwise this would appear all over the national press.

      But she was the ultimate professional. She picked up some swabs and dipped them in the solution on the dressing trolley, along with a pair of tweezers. ‘Brace yourself, Mr Carter. This is going to sting a bit. I’m going to give this a clean, then try and pry out the little piece of vase that is embedded in your wound. Five or six stitches should close this up fine.’

      ‘Five or six?’ Rose was beginning to feel light-headed. ‘Can’t you just use that glue stuff?’

      The nurse shook her head. ‘Not for this kind of wound. It’s very deep. Stitches will give the best result—and hopefully the least amount of scarring.’ She pulled up some liquid into a syringe. ‘I’m just going to give you an injection to numb the area before we start.’ Her experience showed. The injection was finished in a few seconds. ‘It will tingle for a bit,’ she warned. Her gaze shot from one to the other. ‘I’m obliged to ask, but I take it from your tone this was an accidental injury?’

      Rose felt her cheeks flame. ‘Absolutely.’ She couldn’t get the words out quickly enough.

      Will was watching Rose with those dark blue-rimmed eyes. She saw a flicker of something behind his eyes. He looked at the nurse with a remarkable amount of sincerity. ‘Rose wouldn’t normally hurt a fly. There’s nothing to worry about. So, you said I’ll definitely have a scar, then?’

      ‘Yes.’ She nodded as she cleaned the wound. ‘Think of yourself as Harry Potter.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘I hear he gets all the girls.’

      Was it hot in here? Or had she just forgotten to put deodorant on this morning? It was getting uncomfortably warm. She pulled her dress away from her body for a few seconds to let the air circulate.

      Will was still watching her as he continued his conversation with the nurse. ‘Will it be a bad scar?’

      Rose shifted on her feet. Boy, he was laying it on thick. Stop talking about the scar. Guilt was flooding through her. She’d just scarred a man for life. And it seemed as if he’d talk about it for ever.

      The nurse bent forward with her tweezers, then pulled back. ‘Here it is!’ She dropped the microscopic piece of vase on the dressing trolley. How on earth had she even seen it?

      She gave Will’s head a final clean, then picked up the stitching kit. ‘This won’t take long. I’ll give you some instructions for the next few days.’ She glanced towards Rose. ‘When the vase hit you—were you knocked out?’

      ‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘I was sleeping and, believe me, once the vase hit I was wide awake.’

      Rose rolled her eyes and looked away. He was making a meal of this. It was clear the nurse was lapping up his Mr Charming act. And it was making her more than a little uncomfortable.

      Because, like it or not, it was hard not to get pulled in. One look from those big eyes, along with the killer smile and dimple, was enough to make the average woman’s knees turn to mush.

      No wonder this guy got so much good press. Why on earth would he think he needed any help?

      She fixed her eyes on the floor as the nurse started expertly stitching the wound. Will Carter, Runaway Groom would now have a scar above his left eyebrow. A scar that she’d caused. It was definitely making her feel a bit sick.

      The stitches were over in a matter of minutes and then the nurse handed Will a set of head injury instructions. ‘You shouldn’t be on your own for the next twenty-four hours.’ She gave Rose a smile. ‘I’m assuming that won’t be a problem?’

      ‘What? You mean me? No. No, I can’t. Will? I’m sure there must be someone who can keep you company for the next twenty-four hours.’ A