A Very Special Proposal. Josie Metcalfe

with a thud.

      ‘Oh, my God!’ Amy shrieked as she flung her door wide, narrowly avoiding stepping into the path of the motorbike that was drawing up beside her. Automatic reflexes had made her reach for her keys and her handbag so that even before she’d reached the frighteningly still figure she’d found her mobile phone and was tapping in the emergency number.

      ‘Emergency. Which service do you require?’ said the voice in her ear as she sank to her knees beside the elderly woman and reached out to search for a pulse.

      ‘Ambulance and police, please,’ she answered crisply. ‘There’s been an accident on the pedestrian crossing about a mile south of the hospital…the one almost outside the supermarket. An elderly lady. She’s unconscious but she’s still breathing.’

      Amy had been so relieved when her fingers had detected a steady pulse, especially when the poor woman was twisted so uncomfortably. And her impact with the ground had been audible even inside Amy’s car, so she had been fearing the worst…that the woman’s skull had been fractured or her neck had been broken and had killed her instantly. Her obviously broken leg was almost unimportant by comparison.

      There was still the possibility that either or both had happened, but for the moment her heart was still beating and she was still breathing, and if Amy could do anything to make sure that continued to happen until the ambulance arrived with all the equipment to protect her compromised systems…

      ‘Don’t move her!’ ordered a deep voice, only partly muffled by the tinted visor of his helmet as he grabbed her hand and pulled it away from monitoring the thready pulse. ‘If she’s injured her spine, you could paralyse her.’

      He flipped up his visor with his free hand and the intensity of his dark gaze meeting hers sent an unexpected jolt of awareness through her that was totally out of place when there was a vulnerable life on the ground between them.

      For a moment it was as if the injured woman didn’t exist. She actually saw his pupils widen as his eyes flickered over her face, his dark eyes darkening still further in the involuntary response of a potent male towards a female. His hand tightened unconsciously around hers almost as though he was staking some sort of claim…and for one moment suspended in time all she could think was that she wanted him to remove his helmet so she could see what the rest of his face looked like.

      Mortified, she closed her own eyes for a second, reminding herself sternly that this definitely wasn’t the time for age-old courtship preliminaries, even if she had been interested in starting a relationship.

      ‘I know not to move her,’ Amy said in a voice that trembled just a bit as she retrieved her hand from his gauntleted grasp and returned gentle fingers to the wrinkled skin of the exposed throat. Under that powerful gaze she was finding it unexpectedly difficult to concentrate on explaining what she was doing, even as she silently blessed the television programmes that were educating the general population in emergency lifesaving protocols. ‘I’m a doctor but I’m only monitoring her pulse and respiration until the emergency services get here.’

      As if on cue, she heard the sound of approaching sirens.

      ‘Hear that? They’ll be here in a second and they’ll have oxygen on board and a collar to protect her neck while they put her on a backboard to support her spine,’ she explained, then couldn’t help risking another glance in his direction, only to find that he was still looking at her rather than the victim.

      This time the inappropriate shiver of awareness was so strong that she was afraid that he’d see it.

      What on earth was going on here? She’d never reacted this way when a man looked at her, not even Edward. In fact, the only person who had been able to make her respond like this…to be aware of every molecule in her body that made her female…had been Zach.

      And that was ridiculous.

      Obviously, the only reason she’d thought about him—and the way he’d made her feel all those years ago—was because of that stupid conversation about those internet sites and her aborted search last night.

      And now this man, with eyes every bit as dark as Zach’s had been, was stirring things inside her that were best left sleeping, especially when she should be concentrating on the unconscious woman under her fingertips.

      ‘Hey, Doc, have you started coming out looking for work?’ teased the paramedic as he reached her side. ‘Are you trying to do us out of a job?’

      ‘Just holding the fort while you get your act together, Harry,’ she retorted with a smile for the familiar face as she shifted across to give him access to their patient. ‘Her breathing is obviously being impaired by the position of her head and neck but although it’s rather fast, her pulse is surprisingly strong. She was just about to be run over and tried to step back too quickly on a leg that looked as if it already urgently needed a hip replacement. She just sort of crumpled to the ground and hit her head with a dreadful thump.’

      At Harry’s suggestion, she took over setting up IV access to save time while he selected the rest of the equipment he’d need, and then she took responsibility for holding the woman’s head perfectly still while he carefully positioned the collar to protect the woman’s spinal cord. Then they were going to have to straighten her limbs before they could put her on the backboard, checking for breaks and compromised circulation at every stage before they could log-roll her onto it and load her into the ambulance for transportation. Silently, she was worried that the poor woman could easily slip into a coma after such an accident, but it was also a mercy that she was too deeply unconscious to be aware of the pain of her injuries.

      Over the paramedic’s shoulder she saw one young policeman trying to impose some sort of order on the rapidly developing traffic chaos while another was scribbling furiously into his notebook as the motorcyclist spoke to him.

      His helmet was now propped on one hip, discarded leather gauntlets inside and held in position by an apparently nonchalant arm that ended in a knotted fist that seemed to give mute evidence to his underlying impatience with bureaucratic niceties—or was it an indication of his anger at the callous disregard of the driver who had caused the tragedy?

      Amy regretted the fact that his back was turned towards her so that she couldn’t see his face. Not that the back view was anything to sniff at, all long lean legs and narrow waist topped by broad shoulders. Disappointingly, after her memories of Zach, the sleek dark hair was cut close to the owner’s head.

      Zach’s had been quite a bit longer, far too long to satisfy school rules, and the natural curl in it had made it unruly and tempting and…and what on earth was the matter with her? She was in the middle of the road, holding the head of an injured woman, and one false move on her part could paralyse her if she’d fractured bones in her neck. What on earth was she doing, ogling a motorcyclist she’d never seen in her life before and thinking about a classmate she hadn’t seen in more than a decade? Concentrate! she berated herself.

      She joined Harry in a sigh of relief when the collar was successfully secured and had to stifle another sigh as she wondered how much longer it would be before she felt free to go to work. Doubtless, she would have to give her statement, too, and her colleagues wouldn’t be pleased if they had to wait hours for her to arrive before they could hand over and clock off at the end of a long shift. None of them would dream of walking out of the department, knowing that their departure would leave it understaffed, but they wouldn’t be happy if they had to stay on indefinitely, especially those with families waiting for them to come home.

      As if he’d heard her thoughts, the young officer smiled in her direction and called, ‘Would it be better if I caught up with you at the hospital, Doctor?’

      ‘Perfect!’ Amy called back, knowing he would be able to see her relief in her answering smile. She might actually be able to get to work on time if she didn’t have to stop to answer questions now. ‘I’m Dr Willmott. Amy Willmott, and I work in A and E.’

      Then she bent towards the fragile lady to help slide the backboard gently into position on the wheeled stretcher, hoping that the motorcyclist wouldn’t see her