When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,3

he unconscious? What were his injuries? There could be so many reasons. Did he have a spinal injury, a head injury? Molly’s heart pounded. How long before the ambulance arrived?

The wind whistled through the evergreens, carrying the soft scent of pine in through the open car door. But something overpowered that scent—the smell of gas. Molly looked at the ground beside the car. A dark stain grew as she watched. Her heart jumped to her throat. A gas leak. Could she wait for the paramedics? The expanding discoloration in the gravel prompted her decision.

“Mr. Taylor, I need to get you out of the car.”

Still no response. Not that she’d expected one, but it felt better talking to him. Could he hear her?

Breathing in, she inhaled a mouthful of fumes. What if it caught on fire? What if it exploded? She shuddered at the thought. Reaching for one of the towels she’d left on the doorframe, she rolled it into a long tube and slid one end behind his head. Grasping the ends, she secured them under his chin with the tape. ‘That would protect his neck if he had a spinal injury.

Running her hands over the back of his head, Molly was surprised at how soft and silky the strands of dark hair were. She found a swelling on the left side just behind his ear. Her hand came away coated with warm, sticky fluid. A laceration and a hematoma. Was that why he wasn’t rousing?

Molly hunched on the seat beside him and unsnapped the seatbelt. Securing her hands on both sides of his head, she eased him into the valley between her breasts, then used her chin to anchor his forehead against her. His hair was like a black velvet mantle draping the exposed skin of her neck. The bouquet of pine drifting through the window and his musky, sandalwood shampoo was an enticing mix—a welcome change from the pungent gas fumes.

Girl, this is no time to be thinking about the man’s scent, no matter how agreeable it is. Molly gave her meandering mind a smack, then refocused. How am I going to move him? He must be six two, or three, all muscle and sinew.

“Mr. Taylor, wake up. I’ve got to get you out of the car.”

Had she imagined a low groan?

Aligning her arms with his, she grasped handfuls of solid thigh muscle and let the dead weight of his body ease onto hers. A hair’s breadth at a time, she snaked backward. Molly took care to maintain his head in the middle of her chest, then to maintain the critical neutral position and to maintain his fragile hold on life.

It seemed to take forever to maneuver him along the supple leather. Perspiration glued her T-shirt to her back. She tugged again. She was almost to the edge of the seat.

An unexpected groan ricocheted through the confined space. Startled, Molly lurched backward into the seat. Her heart soared up her throat, blocking the intake of air. The pause before it beat again was long, too long. She gasped for breath and waited as her heart sank back in place.

Was he rousing? “Mr. Taylor, can you hear me?”

It was a good sign if he could react to pain. Molly stared at his pallid face. He lay as still and silent as a stonewashed sculpture. “Mr. Taylor.” Her breath expelled in an audible wheeze. “Pearce, open your eyes.”

There was no answer. No response at all. Her nails dug into flesh, and she backed up again. As her knees slid over the edge of the bucket seat, another groan parted his lips.

“It’s okay, Mr. Taylor, the ambulance is coming.” Molly’s adrenaline was pumping. She had him out from behind the steering wheel. “We’re almost there.”

She yanked at an edge of the blanket and shoved its length under his torso. Now, to get him out of the car without causing him further injury. Molly gathered an edge of blanket in each hand and hauled. He moaned several times, yet she persisted. When his legs slid up over the seat edge, Molly saw the reason for his discomfort. His left ankle was twisted at a forty-five degree angle.

Where’s the ambulance? This man needs help. I need help.

She looked up and down the deserted highway. The night remained silent save for the occasional whine of the wind through the tree branches.

Bracing herself against the pain she knew she would cause, Molly pulled again. His body slid over the leather seats. She tried to