Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,3

down the debris-littered concrete. If he ran fast enough he'd be able to get to class on time--

All at once, Hal's feet were moving, but the rest of him was not. As the ground came up to meet him, he had only one thought.

I'm not going to make it class today.

The man sitting in front of her with the bleeding nose and swollen cheek looked so forlorn, Laila couldn't help feeling sorry for him. Also, annoyed. Because of him, she was going to be late getting back from lunch. The collision had also put a runner in her last pair of taupe tights, scuffed her brand new shoes and left her knee scraped and bleeding.

"I'm so sorry." He took the twisted tissues out of his left nostril, but immediately stuck them back in when the blood began flowing again. "I'm really sorry."

"It's all right," Laila said. What was one supposed to do in situations like this anyway? She felt bad just leaving the guy sitting on the curb, but she really was late. "We both should've been more careful."

"You don't understand," said the man morosely. His voice, perhaps because of the tissues in his nose, was deep and throaty. He held up a pair of glasses, the frames twisted from the collision, then tossed them down. "Stuff like this happens to me all the time. I'm a walking disaster."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Laila said, already checking her watch. "It could've happened to anyone."

"Is your knee all right? I'll pay for your dry cleaning if you want."

Of her ruined tights? Of her knee? The rest of her was fine, except for the shoes, which needed a good polishing. "No, that's okay. Really. Listen, I have to run--"

"Sure, sure," said the man letting his head droop. "I'm so sorry."

"Really, don't worry about it," Laila said sympathetically. Under other circumstances she'd be livid, but this guy was just so sincere she couldn't find it in herself to stay mad. "No harm done."

To her alarm, the man's head kept drooping and drooping. Instead of staying upright in his seat at the curb, he fell forward. Crunch. Right onto the sidewalk.

With a shriek, Laila rolled him over. His face had gone a sickly shade of greenish white and his eyes were fluttering.

"Blood," he muttered in a garbled tone. "Can't. Stand. Blood!"

Laila reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out her water bottle. Popping the screwtop, she squirted the entire contents of the nearly full bottle right in the man's face. With a choking gasp, he sat straight up, water streaming down his cheeks. The tissue in his nose disintegrated, sending a fresh stream of blood to paint his upper lip. His cheeks were pink, though, instead of the ghastly green, and he didn't look like he was going to faint again.

"I'm sorry!" he cried.

"Shut up," Laila said smartly. "Here."

She reached again into her voluminous bag and pulled out a travel package of baby wipes. Having a dozen nieces and nephews had taught her the importance of always carrying wipes. She gave them to the poor soul in front of her.

"Thank you," said the man quietly. "I can't tell you how embarrassed I am."

"You are a real mess."

Cleaned up, he wasn't bad looking, even with the ridiculous remains of the twist of tissue in his nose. His thick, wheat-colored hair would benefit from a more stylish cut, but he had strong, large features, including a wide mouth that might look nice with a smile on it. She could see that his eyes, now they weren't rolling back in his head, were light. Blue...or maybe green. He was almost, but not quite handsome, and he looked somehow familiar.

"Do I know you?" she asked.

"I sure hope not," the man replied.

Impulsively, she held out her hand. He took it in his own, engulfing her fingers with his own much larger ones. His handshake was firm, if a little damp from the wipes. He stood, and she saw that he was very tall. She had to tilt her head just to meet his eyes.

"I'm--" she began, but the wailing siren and flashing lights of a police car cut off her introduction.

The car skidded to a stop just beyond the construction site, and two uniformed officers leapt out. To Laila's shock, each held a gun, aimed right at them.

If Hal hadn't been staring so hard at the lovely face of the woman he'd knocked over, he might have seen the cop car sooner. As it was, until the police