Название | Rebel Doc On Her Doorstep |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Lucy Ryder |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Rebels of Port St. John's |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474051699 |
DR. PAIGE CARLYLE jolted awake from her first decent sleep in over a week. One minute she was dreaming about lying on the deck of a sleek boat while a hot captain rubbed oil all over her body, the next...nightmare city.
Frozen with fright, Paige strained for the noise that had awakened her. Vaguely aware that her heart was pounding like that of an overexcited kid pigging out on Halloween candy, she held her breath until... There, she thought when the sound came again. There it is. A heavy thud followed by...cursing?
In the darkness her eyes widened and her heart rate doubled, banging against her ribs like it was practicing for a world heavyweight title.
You have got to be kidding me!
An intruder?
What the heck had happened to the Chamber of Commerce’s pledge that crime was non-existent in Port St. John’s? What about her landlord’s blithe assurances that she could sleep with her doors unlocked?
Yeah, right, she snorted. Try telling that to her intruder.
A large male intruder by the sounds of it.
Had she locked the front door? The sliding French doors leading to the deck? Dammit, she couldn’t remember. But she’d been in the seaside town eight months and hadn’t developed any reckless habits of leaving everything unlocked, so she was almost certain she had.
But “almost” wasn’t certain enough, she told herself frantically. Not when a woman’s worst nightmare was about to unfold. Oh, God. Not when she didn’t have a weapon to defend herself with.
Why hadn’t she just stayed in the city where everyone locked themselves behind thick doors and deadbolts? Yeah, and while she was at it, why hadn’t she just robbed a bank to pay for med school instead of signing her life away on a scholarship?
If she had she wouldn’t be here now. Instead of paying off her debt, she’d be working as a pediatrician. Probably from behind bars but, what the heck, at least she wouldn’t be—
Black dots began to appear in her vision and she realized she was still holding her breath. Expelling it on a quiet rush, Paige tossed back the covers and eased to the edge of the bed, searching in the dark for her cellphone.
It wasn’t there and for one panicked moment she couldn’t remember where she’d left it... Instead, her hand came into contact with a heavy flashlight she’d used a few nights earlier when they’d had a blackout.
Okay. Weapon? Check.
Nerve? Oh, boy.
With the heavy weight in her hand, her head cleared enough to recall the brotherly advice she’d received over the years. But actually doing it was a far cry from practicing on three hulking males who thought it hysterically funny to simply put a big hand on her head and hold her an arm’s length away while she “practiced” taking them down.
Bolstered by the fact that she knew a few badass moves and could totally defend herself—she hoped—Paige breathed in and out a few times then headed for the door. She carefully poked her head into the passage, swallowing a squeak of terror when she heard a crash and another round of inventive cursing.
Gulping, she slapped a hand over her galloping heart before it crashed right through her ribs and went tearing off down the stairs, probably to escape out the front door.
Oh, yeah. She was totally kicking this badass thing.
But that was okay, she thought, lifting the flashlight like a baseball bat and giving it a practice swing. The flashlight could probably crush a skull or break a kneecap. Maybe. Probably...in the hands of someone weighing more than one twenty-five soaking wet...but it was all she had.
Tiptoeing to the landing, Paige peered over the railing where light from a nearby streetlamp shone through the stained-glass door inset, illuminating the entrance like a church. She hoped it wasn’t a sign that she was about to sing with the angels.
Squaring her shoulders, Paige descended the stairs, bare feet silent on the treads, muscles tensed in preparation for a quick getaway through the front door, and...rolled her eyes.
Look at her, all brave and fierce.
If her brothers could see her now they’d probably die laughing. Or disown her.
There was another loud thud and a couple of beats later a round of pithy curses. Huffing out a breath that disturbed tendrils of wild bed hair, Paige tightened her grip on the flashlight and reached for the landline phone mounted on the wall. She heard the voice of the 911 operator in her ear asking about her emergency and it took a few seconds to realize the intruder was moving again.
Towards her.
Eek.
She caught a brief glimpse of a huge black shadow, arm outstretched like the walking dead, and before she could stop herself she opened her mouth and let rip with a scream worthy of a B-grade slasher flick.
The hulk stopped, swayed for a second before shoving out a hand to steady himself against the wall. A deep voice snarled, “What the—? Who the hell are you?”
She let out another shriek and reacted by heaving the heavy flashlight at him. She heard it connect solidly, he gave a soft grunt, and the next second toppled. Just like a giant redwood. Whomp! Landing hard enough to shake the earth.
For several long moments he didn’t move and neither did Paige as the flashlight spun in crazy circles on the wooden floor. The impact must have switched it on and with each rotation its beam briefly illuminated the man lying face down on her entrance floor.
Just like a corpse on TV.
When he remained motionless, Paige grabbed the flashlight mid-spin and trained the beam on him, ready to whack him if he so much as twitched.
Beam wobbling in her sweaty grasp, she edged closer and gingerly stretched out a leg to poke him with her foot. He gave a low groan and she jumped back, a strangled squeak catching in her throat.
After a minute of nothing but Paige’s ragged breathing, she prodded him a bit harder. Okay, so it was more of a kick but she needed to make sure he wasn’t lulling her into a false sense of security before grabbing her and giving her a coronary before she turned thirty.
When he didn’t move or make any more creepy sounds, she leaned a little closer...and... Holy cow...sucked in a shocked breath.
He was gorgeous.
At least what she could see of him under all the scrapes and bruises. She didn’t know what she’d expected an intruder to look like, but yeesh, gorgeous wasn’t it.
Damn.