CHAPTER ONE

The words reverberated around Charlie Wentworth’s head in time with the squeak in his back wheel.

The regular Sunday visit with his parents had left him with that familiar bitter taste in his mouth. Between his family’s overt disapproval, the uncertainty over his health and tomorrow’s invasion from the hospital administrator, he had a lot on his mind.

All he had to do was get through the next fortnight. Go through the motions. Co-operate with the hospital hatchet-wielder. See his patients. Keep focused. Go get the blood test. Wait for the results. Which would be negative.

He stepped on the accelerator out of pure frustration, the ancient Mazda straining and protesting. His life had been on hold for what felt like years - the separation, the divorce and now this. Gaining steadily on the car in front, Charlie eased his foot off the pedal. Blowing the gearbox wouldn’t bring the next fortnight to a close any faster.

He just had to be patient. Once upon a time he’d had that in abundance.

Carrie Douglas flicked her gaze to the rear-view mirror and tensed as the car behind surged closer. Her headlights stabbed into the darkness and she prepared to dip her high beam for when it overtook. It didn’t, though, falling back to a safe distance again and she relaxed.

Driving at night on an unfamiliar road made her nervous especially when she was carrying such precious cargo. Dana’s blonde head drew her attention. It was slumped to one side, her cute face relaxed in a deep sleep, her ancient blanky snuggled against her cheek.

It was at times like these she realised there was only so much a mother could do to protect her child.

Thoughts about the job she was starting tomorrow turned over and over in her mind as she flicked her gaze back to the road. The hospital was sending her in to sort out the financial mess of one of their inner-city outreach programmes.

As far as projects went it looked pretty tedious but with her combined business and medical degree, she was perfect for the job. And it wouldn’t be long now until her hard work paid dividends.

There were rumours she was being considered for promotion to department head. Both Anaesthetics and Paediatrics were coming up for renewal. From there it would be an easy springboard into the real management hierarchy. In five years she was hoping to make Deputy Medical Director.

It was the only thing in her life that mattered other than Dana. She needed financial security for her daughter and herself and to show everyone that her unplanned career diversion had been successful.

She’d even left the family wedding early so she could catch a decent eight hours’ sleep to ensure she was in good condition for tomorrow’s job.

Carrie saw the headlights of an approaching car illuminate the horizon and adjusted her headlights in preparation. She chewed at her bottom lip, going over everything in her head as the approaching car grew bigger. She glanced in the rear-view mirror again. The car behind was keeping a respectful distance.

But when she returned her attention to the road in front the oncoming car had started to drift across the centre line.

“Holy crap!” Carrie stomped on the brake pedal as the fancy red vehicle came at her, putting them on a collision course.

Her entire life flashed before her eyes as, for a split second, the world stopped. Her heart beat so loudly in her ears nothing else registered. It pounded so frantically in her chest her whole body shook with its agitated rhythm. And then panic and instinct took over and she pulled hard on the steering-wheel.

Carrie held her breath as the red car passed in a blur and for a moment she thought she was safe. But then the red car clipped the rear of hers and she felt her head snap forward, her seatbelt snap tight and her head fling back again, slamming into her headrest as her vehicle spun wildly round and round in the centre of the road.

‘Dana,’ Carrie called, turning frantically, ignoring the pain in her neck as they came to a stop in the middle of the road. Her daughter’s eyes fluttered open briefly and then she stuck her thumb in her mouth and stroked her blanky against her cheek.

Dana’s grandmother had always said she could sleep through an explosion and for that, tonight, Carrie was thankful, as a surge of relief washed through her body.

She laid her forehead against the steering-wheel and took some deep calming breaths, the immediate shock giving away to the euphoric feeling of having just dodged a bullet.

Charlie swore as he watched the trajectory of the red car on some kind of horrifying slow motion. It had changed on contact with the car in front, flipping, rising up over his Mazda, narrowly missing him as if it had been engineered to do so.

He looked in his rear-view mirror as it made contact with the road behind him, smashing into the bitumen with teeth-jarring velocity and rolling several more times before coming to rest on its wheels in a mass of mangled metal and shattered glass. The remaining headlight shone brokenly on the unmoving form lying in the middle of the road.

It took a few seconds for the doctor in Charlie to respond to the inert form, shock blunting his reactions. He opened his door, knowing he had to get to the victim lying on the road. But his eyes flicked to the other car that had come to a standstill in the centre of the road not far from him. The person inside was sitting at the steering-wheel, unmoving.

The golden rule of triage — the most critical first. He looked back at the person on the road. Was he even alive? Could he have survived being flung out of a vehicle at high speed? Charlie doubted it.

Carrie startled at the brisk demand coming back from the quagmire of her shock. Her heart was hammering like a runaway train, her hands still gripping the steering-wheel.

She’d been too concerned with Dana to notice. Her neck hurt a little. It was tender when she twisted it to the very limit of its capabilities but otherwise it seemed OK. Probably some minor whiplash. Still, that could be debilitating if it was bad enough. She’d get an X-ray some time tomorrow to be sure.

Charlie gave her a quick visual once-over. She didn’t seem to have any obvious injuries. He nodded. ‘I have to go see to the other driver.’ He indicated with his head.

Carrie nodded, noticing the very still person lying on the road for the first time. ‘Yes,’ she said. And then the man was gone.

Charlie popped the boot of his car and pulled out his medical kit, complete with oxygen and suction. In his line of work, he needed a fully stocked kit ready to go in his car at a moment’s notice, and tonight he was grateful that he’d decided to irritate his father and drive the Mazda.

Sprinting to the inert form, Charlie’s brain processed all the possibilities. It was a man. A middle-aged man. Had he fallen asleep at the wheel or had there been a medical emergency like a heart attack or a stroke that had caused him to veer into their path?

Charlie donned a pair of gloves and methodically assessed the man as drilled into him during his student years.

The man was unresponsive. Unconscious. His airway was compromised, his gurgling respirations concerning. He was breathing. Just. He had a pulse. But it was rapid and weak.

Charlie looked at the car and noticed the massive hole in the windscreen. The man must have been catapulted out through the glass, sustaining numerous lacerations. A quick head-to-toe check revealed multiple contusions, bilateral fractured tibias and what appeared to be a major bleed from the femoral artery if the bright, pulsing blood from the man’s groin was any indication.

Great! He tore the fabric of the man’s jeans, pulled a wad of gauze out of his kit and placed it over the bleeding site, applying firm, even pressure.

Flipping open his phone, he dialled triple zero with one hand and prayed for service in an area that was generally sketchy at best. The nearest ambulance station was twenty minutes away.

‘Hey, lady, I could use a hand here,’ he shouted into the stillness of the night while he waited for the operator.

Carrie jumped, snapped out of her daze by the urgency of the man’s voice, strong and commanding despite their distance.

But the thought of getting out of the car, of assisting the stranger, paralysed her with fear. The familiar dread descended on her and her heart hammered madly again. He didn’t know what he was asking.

Carrie watched him working as he spoke into the phone as if she was watching it on a television screen. Like it wasn’t really happening. He obviously had a medical background. He was calm and capable, with a huge box of medical supplies at his side.

A strange feeling of disconnectedness draped like a thick, heavy cloak around her shoulders. Maybe it was the residual effects of shock. Maybe his appeal for help had tipped her over. Her hands shook as she thought about getting out of the car and lending a hand.

The mere thought was enough to make her hyperventilate. It terrified her more than the near collision.

Charlie cursed as he hung up. They were coming, sending two road units and a chopper and alerting the nearby local rural fire brigade, but would it be soon enough? The man’s obstructive breathing sounded loud in the night filled otherwise only by insect song.

Hell! The driver needed his airway managed as well as his haemorrhage, and he couldn’t do both.

‘Lady! Get your butt out of the car,’ he shouted, turning his head so he could pierce her with a look that was cross between commanding and desperate. ‘I’m trying to save a life here!’

The man’s demand sliced through Carrie’s panic and touched the doctor she had shut away for too many years. Despite her shaking, despite the dryness of her mouth and the pounding of her heart, something inside responded to the stranger’s urgent appeal.

Against her will, she opened the door and rose on legs that felt like two wet noodles.

Charlie glanced up as the woman approached. Oh, hell. She was pale and visibly shaking, looking at the unconscious bleeding patient as if she’d never seen blood before. Like she was going to either faint or vomit. Or both.

Great. She was going to be as useless as a screen door on a submarine. And yet...

‘Gloves top drawer of the kit,’ he barked.

If she didn’t snap out of this stupor they were both in trouble. Yes, she’d been through a lot tonight. No doubt she’d thought she’d been a goner at one stage but there was a life hanging in the balance and every second counted.

Charlie didn’t have time to baby her. He only hoped she would respond automatically to his demands.

Carrie crouched and pulled out a pair of gloves. Her movements stiff and robotic.

‘Down here. I need you to put your hand here.’ She didn’t move and Charlie almost lost it.

Charlie bit his tongue and took a deep calming breath. ‘Look, lady, I know you’ve had a shock tonight but this is really, really important.’

Charlie kept his voice quiet and composed despite the well of frustration rising inside him. Of all the people in the entire world tonight he was stuck with someone useless in an emergency. But then she surprised him by reaching out a shaking hand.

Charlie removed his slowly on a rush of relief as she took his place. ‘Firm. Even. Do you understand?’

She didn’t answer him, just stared with a look of horror at the blood covering her glove as if she’d never seen the substance before. But her technique was good and as long as she kept the pressure applied they could hopefully prevent this man from bleeding to death.

Carrie didn’t feel the bite of the bitumen into her knees through the thin fabric of her hand-made, cotton, tie-dyed trousers. She didn’t hear the hum of insects or the stutter of her own panicked breath. She didn’t even hear the stranger rooting around in his medical kit.

She could feel its warmth though the thin barrier of latex. She could smell its pungent metallic aroma heavy on the warm night air. Knew that it would be sticky as it clotted around her hands.

The chant helped her keep her mind off the roar of her own blood in her ears, the sweat beading her forehead, the nausea rolling through her intestines. Quickly she grabbed in some air, filling her lungs with it as fast as she could, over and over in time to the silent incantation.

Charlie could hear his helper’s breathing as he applied an oxygen mask to the man’s face. If she kept it up, she was going to need the oxygen. ‘Hey,’ he said, forcing himself to minister to her needs for a few seconds. ‘You’re doing great, OK? Just slow your breathing down. Can you do that?’

Carrie shook her head, as everything around her spun out of control. Her lips were tingling. Her gloved fingers, covered in blood, were tingling. ‘I can’t...b-breathe,’ she gasped.

His conscience pricked at his impatience. This woman had dodged a potentially fatal collision tonight and now he was asking more. She could have been the victim here and what she probably needed more than anything else was some TLC but instead he was forcing her to do something clearly outside her comfort zone.

She was obviously one of those squeamish people who didn’t like the sight of blood so it had to be hard for her to help. Frankly, this sort of scene could be difficult for even hardened professionals.

Carrie couldn’t move. She could only see the blood. Her mind started to play tricks. She was getting flashes of another place and time. Another patient. Another life-and-death situation.

Charlie was more forceful this time but it had the desired effect. Her head snapped up, panic flaring her nostrils and dilating her pupils. ‘You’re doing really well,’ he said gentling his voice again, lifting his hand to squeeze her shoulder. ‘The ambulance should be here soon.’

The warmth of his hand anchored her in the suddenly spinning world and Carrie’s panicked thoughts eased momentarily.

‘Hi. I’m Charlie.’ He smiled. ‘I need you to slow your breathing down, OK? Do you think you can do that?’

‘Come on, Carrie, like this.’ He breathed deeply in and out himself. ‘Breathe with me, like this.’

Carrie forced herself to slow her breathing. It was hard at first, her oxygen-starved lungs protesting but she clung to the calm timbre of Charlie’s voice, mimicked his deep steady breathing — in and out, in and out. His hand on her shoulder was immeasurably comforting and, slowly, the tingling subsided.

‘OK, now. Good. This is good.” He smiled encouragingly. “Much better. Well done.’

Carrie was aware somewhere inside her jumbled thoughts that he was talking to her like she was a frightened child, the way she spoke to Dana during a thunderstorm. And she was also aware that behind his calm façade his eyes kept flicking down to check the inert man on the ground.

‘I need to keep going here. Will you be OK? Just keep breathing, OK? In and out. All right?’

Charlie searched her face. She still looked scared but the panic was gone. ‘That’s great.’ He nodded and turned his attention back to his patient.

What first? He needed a collar to stabilise the patient’s neck before he manipulated it to improve the airway. He didn’t have one. He made a mental note to put a collar in the kit for future use and moved to plan B. He knelt so that the patient’s head was between his legs, his knees and thighs providing support for the head and neck.

Experimenting with some gentle jaw support and chin extension, he was relieved to hear the breathing become much less noisy. He reached for his portable suction unit, pushed the mask aside and placed the sucker inside the man’s mouth. Blood slurped into the tubing.

Carrie startled at the loud mechanical noise. The red fluid tracked down the tubing and she looked away quickly. Nausea roiled through her intestines again and for an awful moment she thought she was going to disgrace herself – more than she had already - and lose her dinner. Her heartbeat spiked and she coughed on a rising surge of bile.

Charlie glanced up quickly. ‘How you doing?’ He could hear fear in the rattle of her breath as she struggled to keep herself in control. ‘In and out, Carrie. This is nearly over.’

Carrie nodded, forcing herself to breathe, opening her mouth to ask the question burning through her mind. ‘Do...do you think he’s going to d-die?’

Charlie was surprised to hear her talk. But that was good. Maybe she needed conversation to distract her from the grim reality of the situation?

‘Probably.’ He’d never much been one for gloss. ‘He’s got a significant head injury and multiple fractures, including probable facial, which is compromising his airway. His pupils are fixed and dilated. He has a major arterial haemorrhage.’

Carrie nodded. Through the fog of her jumbled thought processes she knew just one of these alone was a significant, life-threatening injury. Combined...?

He grinned despite the circumstances, and relief flowed cool and easy through her system. Maybe his confidence was wrong in the face of the severity of the situation but it helped calm her a little.

The wail of a distant siren interrupted their conversation and they both cocked their heads. Carrie had never heard a more beautiful sound.

A fire engine arrived a minute later. It wasn’t quite what Charlie was after but it meant more hands. ‘What happened?’ asked a thin young man in a navy uniform, jumping out of the truck.

Charlie filled them in. Within a minute the car was being dealt with, a road block was being set up to manage any traffic and Charlie’s request for light had been efficiently dealt with. He even commandeered someone to assist.

Second rule of triage — the most experienced person on scene managed the airway. But Charlie needed to get a line in and he couldn’t do that from the head of the patient. He let one of the crew take his place, stressing the importance of neck stability while he quickly placed an IV in the crook of the patient’s elbow.

Hooking up some fluid from his supply, he ran the cannula wide open as another fireman held the bag aloft.

Charlie glanced down at Carrie, who had her eyes closed and was rocking her body slightly.

The ambulance would be here soon and she could be relieved, but in the meantime she was doing a great job with the arterial bleed.

‘OK?’ he asked his voice low as he crouched down beside Carrie, squeezing her shoulder. She looked very pale. ‘You’re doing really well. I couldn’t have done this without your help. You’ve been a Godsend.’

Carrie glanced at him, stunned by his genuine praise. She was a mess and she shouldn’t have been. She should have been a professional. She could have been really useful. Formed a dynamic partnership to save the man’s life.

But he was complimenting her nonetheless and in this nightmare it really meant something.

Two ambulances arrived five minutes later, one carrying an intensive-care paramedic, and a chopper thundered overhead minutes after that, landing on the road nearby.

Carrie was relieved of her duty, her fingers numb from applying constant pressure. Someone took over and she felt several arms lifting her up to her feet and out of the way. A paramedic shepherded her towards his rig but she refused to be looked at until she’d checked on Dana.

Surely she wasn’t still asleep? But she was. Soundly. Her cherubic pout slack, her blonde locks in disarray.

Carrie allowed the paramedic to give her a once-over by her car. Someone thrust a warm drink at her and someone else draped a blanket around her shoulders. She was grateful to be away from it all, her heart rate settling but the feeling of unreality persisted.

Her neck ached and she rubbed each side absently. Her knees ached also. She looked down at her ruined trousers, torn and frayed at the knees.

She watched Charlie work in tandem with the paramedics to help stabilise the patient, admiring his confidence, his self-assuredness. She’d practically fallen apart, almost vomited all over the patient.

He had saved the man’s life. His insistence that she help, while difficult beyond words for her, had been the right call. Not that she’d been capable of much.

Thirty minutes later the patient was gone. Dana finally woke up as the chopper lifted noisily from the road. Carrie got her out of her car seat and snuggled her against her chest, wrapping the blanket around both of them.

Carrie smiled. Dana was right. The scene did look like a roadside discotheque. Flashing lights from the multiple emergency vehicles strobed across the scene, reflecting the pieces of broken glass scattered like diamonds across the road surface. ‘No, sweetie, no dancing tonight.’

Dana gave her a cute sleepy smile and snuggled her face into Carrie’s neck. Carrie hugged her closer, inhaling the sweet smell of her daughter.

Charlie approached, surprised to see a mop of blonde hair peeking out of the top of the blanket. Carrie had a kid? No wonder she’d been reluctant to get out the car.

‘Is this your daughter?’ When she nodded he continued. ‘I’m sorry, I had no idea...’ Maybe that’s why she’d been so shaky? She’d probably still been reacting to the potential consequences had the red car hit hers head on.

Charlie was captivated by a pair of big blue eyes fluttering behind heavy lids. ‘I’m Charlie.’

Carrie smiled down at her daughter. ‘Go to sleep, then, Sleeping Beauty.’ She dropped a kiss on Dana’s forehead. They both watched as Dana shut her eyes.

Carrie decided it was best he didn’t know about her qualifications. The chances that they’d ever meet in a professional capacity were fairly negligible. He was obviously an emergency medicine specialist and she was firmly ensconced in management.

‘Are you going to be right to travel home?’ he asked. ‘Your car still goes?’

Carrie looked at the dented rear side panel. It did, but she doubted whether she could drive again tonight, she was too shaken up. ‘I’ll get one of the tow-truck drivers to take it away and arrange to have it fixed first thing tomorrow. It’s a bit of a pain but, considering I thought we were going to die tonight, it’s an inconvenience I can live with.’

Charlie chuckled. ‘You heading back to Brisbane? Can I give you a lift home?’

Carrie watched the traffic accident investigation squad put yellow markings on the road. They’d promised her a lift back into the city but they didn’t look like they’d be finished any time soon.

She regarded him steadily, taking notice of his looks for the first time. He was tall, a good head taller than her. He had nice eyes, grey eyes. A nice face, actually.

Calm. Serene. Confident. Even when he’d been snapping orders he’d been completely self-assured.

There was something innately tranquil about his features. His hair was a shaggy brown shot with blond, as if naturally streaked by the sun. It hung down, brushing his collar, and seemed to part naturally in the middle, falling in haphazard layers over his ears and stopping just short of impeding his vision.

Combined with his three-day growth, he looked a little surfer dude and as far from Rupert’s cleanly shaven short back and sides as was physically possible. She’d always preferred that look but this guy was making her rethink.

His arms were tanned a deep brown, as if he’d spent a lot of time in the sun. His clothes were casual — threadbare jeans and one of those trendy T-shirts that looked like it had been painted by a pre-schooler. His chest was broad, his biceps firm in her peripheral vision.

He pushed away from the car the matter apparently settled and Carrie watched as he cleared their departure with the scene controller. Five minutes later, after she’d spoken with the tow company, Charlie was opening the passenger door to his sedan.

Carrie eyed it disparagingly, her mood considerably lightened compared to earlier. ‘You sure this thing goes?’ she asked, her old self returning.

Charlie chuckled. It was. It had been second hand when he’d inherited it as his uni run-around. ‘It’s...retro.’

And he was fond of the old banger, preferring it to the ostentatious BMW his parents had bought him for his thirtieth birthday. It had lot of happy memories.

He’d kissed his first girl in this car. Had driven to Uluru in it. Slept in it the night of his bucks’ party when he’d been too drunk to drive home.

‘It’s not that old,’ he said, grabbing Dana’s car seat off the ground near her foot and opening up the back door, installing it like he’d done it a time or two before.

Dana stirred as Carrie transferred her into the seat. ‘Where are we, Mummy?’

‘In Charlie’s car,’ Carrie said quietly as she snapped the buckle in place. ‘He’s taking us home.’

Dana looked around with heavy eyelids. ‘I like it,’ she murmured as her eyes drifted shut.

Carrie met his amused gaze. It was warm and sexy and she blinked, surprised at the thought.

His laughter followed her into the passenger seat and a warm sensation down low and deep spread sensual tentacles to every cell of her body. It was strange and unnerving and she put the brakes on immediately.

So, he had a nice face and a great smile and had talked her down from the ledge tonight. She was a single mother with her eye on a prestigious job.

It was a good minute before Charlie lost sight of the multi-coloured glow of the accident scene in his rear-view mirror. The adrenaline he’d felt during the incident had dissipated, leaving him feeling edgy, and he drummed his fingers against the steering-wheel. At least his passenger had perked up. Her trembling seemed to have settled and there was colour in her cheeks now.

She had auburn hair, he noticed for the first time. It was wavy rather than curly, tumbling to her shoulders and framing her oval face, emphasizing the cream of her complexion, the smattering of freckles across her nose and her big, light-brown eyes the exact shade of whiskey.

Her clothes were unusual. Purple tie-dyed shirt with a heavily beaded modest neckline and matching trousers. It was loose and flowing, hinting at her figure beneath rather than revealing anything. She had large silver hoop earrings and a thin silver choker with dangling lines of purple beads hanging like icicles.

‘So, what do you do?’ Charlie asked, making small talk as the silence stretched between them.

He laughed. She looked like she read palms for a living. ‘That’s suitably vague.’

She shrugged. ‘It’s nothing very exciting. It pays the mortgage and the hours are good.’

He flicked a glance at Dana in the rear-view mirror. She was staring sleepily out the window, her blonde hair and blue eyes nothing like her mother’s. ‘How old did you say Dana was?’

She seemed a little taken aback at his response and hesitated before asking, ‘Not your thing?’

If only. Quite the opposite, in fact. Charlie had wanted a family of his own for a long time. A chance to do it better than his parents had - if that was possible. If he wasn’t somehow genetically wired to screw things up, too.

He shrugged. ‘Veronica, my ex-wife, didn’t want them. It was probably just as well, given the divorce and everything.’

Carrie could have bitten off her tongue as Charlie’s knuckles grew white on the steering-wheel. She had no idea what had come over her. Maybe it was the moments they had shared at the accident scene that made her feel like normal social mores concerning privacy didn’t apply to them. That she could ask him such a personal question on such short acquaintance.

‘ It’s OK.” His fingers eased around the wheel. “It was...kind of messy.’

“Sorry,” she apologised again before lapsing into silence, mentally castigating herself, ordering her mouth to zip up.

‘So...is there a dad around?’ He tipped his chin at her left hand. “I notice you’re not wearing a ring.”

Carrie startled at the quiet question, as intrusive as hers had been on such short acquaintance but answered it anyway keeping her voice neutral. Unemotional. ‘Not one that’s interested in Dana, no.’

She looked out the window. Even after five years Rupert’s desertion still stung.

Carried glanced at him, hit by the sincerity of his tone but he was watching the road and she quickly looked away, also staring straight ahead. But his thigh was bulky and solid in her peripheral vision and his biceps flexed distractingly with every slight movement of the steering-wheel.

He reached for the radio, leaning in, his hair falling forward, momentarily obscuring the sexy stubble covering his jaw.

‘Do you mind?” he asked, his fingers hovering over the button. “Will it wake Dana?’

Carrie dragged her gaze away from his jaw. ‘She slept through a car smashing into us, four sirens and a helicopter.’

Charlie was grateful for the music to distract them from conversation. At the accident scene Carrie had been easy to dismiss as a blood-phobic, hyperventilating, tie-dyed flake. But seeing her now, free of the stress of the accident, she was a different woman altogether.

She had teased him about his car, sympathised over his divorce and told him about her little girl. Suddenly she was three-dimensional. Complex.

The thought slid insidiously into his head. Oh no. Hell no. She was a single mother. You didn’t mess with them. Honourable men knew that. Especially not when his life was such a mess.

A separation, a divorce and six months in limbo over his health. In two weeks he’d have some closure, but until then his life was on hold.

There were things to do. Big things. A major project that had been shelved for too long was a priority. He wouldn’t have time for a single mother and her cute child.

Relationships were going to be light from now on. Nothing heavy. His life had weighed a tonne for years. And women with children deserved more than that.

They passed the rest of the trip listening to the music and indulging in occasional light conversation. Charlie was grateful when he pulled up outside her apartment block. Her laughter and her scent had filled the car and he couldn’t hear the squeak of the back tyre any more or smell the slight aroma of rust.

And he liked them. OK, it was probably a guy thing — heaven knew, Veronica had hated every inch of it — but he liked them a lot. It was disturbing to think this woman could completely obliterate them.

‘Thanks for the lift, Charlie. And for...you know... snapping me out of it back there.’

Now she was home, Carrie didn’t want to get out. Strangely she felt like staying in the car, chatting with him. They’d shared an experience tonight that few strangers shared. They’d saved a man’s life and she felt a weird kind of connection.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I know that wasn’t easy for you. You did good. Really.’ Charlie wanted her to go as desperately as he wanted her to stay. It was an unsettling feeling. ‘I’ll help you with Dana.’

They got out of the car and Carrie ducked her head to unbuckle Dana. She managed to pick her up without disturbing her. ‘I’ll get the seat,’ Charlie said.

Except the damn thing decided to be recalcitrant. What the hell? It had gone in so easily. ‘I can’t get this blasted thing out?’

Carrie laughed. ‘Here. Take her.’ She gently passed Dana to him. ‘There’s a knack to it.’

Charlie’s chest tightened as Dana murmured and wriggled in his arms, trying to find the most comfortable position. Her blonde head snuggled into his neck. Her hair smelt like toffee-apples.

Carrie removed the seat easily and he indicated for her to precede him up the path. When she reached the front door, she placed the seat on the ground and inserted the key. Turning, Carrie held her arms out for Dana and he passed her over gently.

It was such a domestic scene Charlie couldn’t quite believe he was in it. Or how...nice it felt. It had an odd kind of pull. But his life was complicated, his head was messed up and she had a child.

‘Well, thanks for this, Charlie. I really appreciate it. It was nice meeting you. I just wish it had been under different circumstances.’

Carrie walked through the door and closed it without looking back. She put Dana to bed, trying not to think about the sense of intimacy she’d felt when Charlie had handed Dana back. It was insane to think that way.

Charlie was gone. The book had shut on their brief encounter. She had a daughter to raise and a career to forge.