A Fortune's Texas Reunion. Allison Leigh

down, I’ll bet.”

      She shook her head slightly. “No,” she whispered. “I was afraid nobody was coming.”

      She looked like she was going to cry. “I’m here now,” he said steadily. “And I’ll stay right here with you until more help gets here. Can’t say I’m real comfortable with the position.”

      Understatement of the year.

      He looked into her eyes, willing her to keep her focus on him. “I’m Pax, by the way. I’m the sheriff around these parts.”

      She gave him a barely perceptible smile. “Georgia,” she murmured.

      Savannah and Georgia. He’d have teased her a little at that if not for the way her eyes had fluttered closed again. “Don’t pass out on me, Georgia.” He wrapped his fingers around her dangling arm, sliding down to her wrist where her pulse was fluttering.

      “I’m not gonna pass out.” She managed to sound offended. “My head is pounding.”

      “Expect you’ll have a lot of aches and pains. Considering everything, that’s not a bad thing right now.” It was awkward as hell, half inside the upside-down car and half out. At his angle, stretched the way he was against the headliner, the best he could do was let her land on him. The headrest of the passenger seat was digging into his ribs but at least it wasn’t endangering his prospects of siring kids one day. “So, unless you really insist on hanging there until backup arrives, I’m gonna cut the shoulder belt first, and then the lap. That all right with you?”

      “I’ll fall.”

      “I’ll catch you,” he promised. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

      Her lips compressed. She closed her eyes again and gave a faint nod.

      Good enough for him.

      He reached up and slid the sharp knife between her snug purple T-shirt and the shoulder belt, then sliced through the belt.

      She gasped and her hands shot out, knocking against his head and shoulder. Several cubes of broken glass rained down on him. “Sorry.”

      “Don’t worry. You’re good, Georgia. There isn’t going to be anything graceful about this. I told you I’ll catch you. Just keep your hand on my shoulder if you can, and—” He reached again and wedged his hand against the leather seat, snapping through the lap belt. The second he did, her body started to fall and he pressed his free palm against her stomach long enough to fold the knife safely out of the way.

      Then she rolled down in a ball onto him, all long hair and trembling limbs.

      The second she made contact with him, she burst into sobs and buried her face against his throat.

      “It’s okay, honey.” He gently patted her back. She really was no bigger than a minute. “You’re gonna be fine.” He’d feel better about that assurance once she was actually checked out, but for now, she was lucid and showing the kind of normal reaction he’d expect. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

      Eventually, her sobs quieted. Her trembling settled. She finally lifted her head, and her eyes met his. “You saved me.”

      Discomfort that had nothing to do with gearshifts and awkward positions chugged inside his gut. She was a looker. No amount of puffy, red eyes could disguise that fact. He hadn’t felt such a visceral attraction to a woman since Whitney.

      Which was a good reminder to keep his mind where it belonged.

      “German engineering and advanced safety systems saved you,” he said gruffly. “Think you can slide out the window?”

      She angled her head, looking toward his legs still hanging outside from the knees on. She gave him a shaky smile. “In some places we’d need to be married before being this close. You’d better go first.”

      She didn’t give him a chance to argue the matter, because she was busy wriggling to one side of him. Doing so meant pressing her hand against his chest to gain enough leverage and he hoped she blamed his thumping heartbeat on adrenaline.

      He’d been a cop for eight years. A sheriff for nearly two. After what happened with Whitney in Dallas, he was too smart to let himself be derailed again by a pretty set of blue eyes.

      Still, it was a relief when Georgia was finally curled alongside him rather than sprawled over him, and he worked his way back out the window. First his leather belt caught on something, and then his shirt tore as he awkwardly got one shoulder, then the other, through the bent window frame.

      Finally, though, he was on his knees again in the dirt and he reached back in to her. “It might be easier for you if you come out headfirst.”

      She nodded and, far more deftly than he could have done, pivoted on the rear of her white shorts, then shimmied out the window. She was narrow. Slender. He had no trouble whatsoever catching her shoulders the second they cleared the metal and he lifted her free of the wreckage, moving her to the patch of dirt that had been scraped raw by the car.

      She exhaled, and slowly fell backward until she was sprawled flat on her back. She pressed her hand to her chest and stared up at the sky. Tears slid from her eyes down into her hair.

      He crouched beside her. “I’m just gonna check your arms and legs, Georgia. That all right with you?”

      She sniffed wetly and nodded.

      “You tell me if anything hurts.”

      “Everything hurts,” she mumbled. “I’ve never been in an accident before.”

      “You started out with a doozy.” He carefully worked his hands along her arms. She had a nasty scrape on her left shoulder and a small cut on her right wrist, but other than that, her skin was smooth and cool. A little too cool for the hot day, but she’d had a nasty shock. He moved to her feet and started at her ankles. More scrapes. More scratches. But no bones sticking out where they didn’t belong. Nothing that was starting to swell.

      He was doing his duty, but he’d have had to have been dead not to appreciate the way she felt. And because of that fact, he wondered if it was time he gave Mindy a call. She was a teacher in Amber Falls he’d seen off and on over the last six months. No more interested in anything serious than he was.

      He realized he’d reached Georgia’s knees and quickly moved his hands away, sitting back on his heels.

      “You were lucky that snag caught your car and you were wearing your seat belt. You have some ID in the car?”

      “Of course.”

      “How many fingers am I holding up?”

      Her eyes followed his hand. “Three. I can see perfectly clearly,” she promised tiredly.

      “Do you think you lost consciousness at any point?”

      “I don’t think so. I wasn’t even driving that fast.”

      “Wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that.” He’d be a wealthy man and his mom wouldn’t have had to rent out the north section of land to an infamous billionaire just to keep the bank from taking it back.

      “I wasn’t,” she insisted.

      “Okay, NOLA girl,” he soothed, because she was obviously going to get worked up. “Just rest there for a few minutes.”

      She didn’t argue. Merely threaded her fingers through her hair and shook away pieces of glass still clinging there.

      He left Georgia long enough to retrieve his duty belt and fastened it around his hips again. He fingered the tear in his uniform shirt as he attached his shoulder mic and called in their status to Connie. He had to provide his own uniforms and he didn’t think there’d be any way to fix this particular tear.

      “Ambulance freed up,” Connie reported back. “Should be there soon.”

      “Thanks, Con.” He looked