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But that was then, and he’d moved on to a different world, or so he’d thought. ‘Come on. George’s office will be a lot quieter. Even with the police joining us.’
Her fingers worked her forehead, then her temples. ‘You’re right.’
‘Are you okay? Apart from your neck and throat being squashed?’ She looked paler than before. Shock would do that, though he thought something else might be going on.
‘Of course I am,’ she snapped and stormed towards the corridor that’d take them to the office affectionately known as George’s cave. But at the door she stopped and graced him with a wobbly smile. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not every day there’s so much excitement in the department.’
‘There’s something we can be grateful for.’ The fact that the man had held that gun to a doctor’s head put today’s example of crazy way up there on the scale of craziness. Apparently Harper hadn’t seen as much of the rougher side of humanity in her working life as some medics in big city hospitals did.
‘To think this is Wellington, not Los Angeles, where there are permanent armed guards on the doors.’ For someone who shouldn’t be talking too much, she was doing an awful lot of it. A reaction to everything that had gone down?
‘You’ve worked in LA?’ If she wasn’t going to be quiet then a change of subject might be for the best about now. For both of them. Now that the showdown was over the adrenaline had backed off, leaving him feeling shaky, despite his previous experience with out-of-control thugs.
‘No. Never. But I know people who have.’ Then she turned the questions on him. ‘I know nothing about you. Where were you working before starting here?’
‘Invercargill. I did my training there and stayed on working in the emergency department for another year.’
‘That suggests you’re a late starter.’
Way past being wet behind the ears, for sure. Cody shrugged. ‘I had a career change at twenty-seven.’
‘From what?’
‘Commercial fishing.’
‘You’re kidding me!’ Surprise tainted her eyes.
He was used to that. Fisherman to nurse took a bit of getting around for most people. ‘I’ve found my niche.’
Nudging her into the office, he closed the door to keep the noise of the department out and instantly wished he hadn’t. The room wasn’t much bigger than a shoebox and somehow this woman with all her questions seemed to fill it so that he couldn’t put enough space between them. A scent of lemon or lime wafted in the air, reminding him of summer days in his grandfather’s orchard. The days when he’d been young, carefree and a little hellion. A long time ago.
‘Why Wellington?’ She blushed. ‘Sorry, none of my business, and not relative to the job.’
None of your questions are. But suddenly he couldn’t shut up either. ‘I’m originally from Kelburn.’ Yes, just along the road from the hospital. ‘My mum’s still here and my brother has a home in Central Wellington, though he’s currently working in Sydney at the General Hospital.’
‘Medicine runs in the family then?’
He pulled out a chair for her and tamped down the jerk of annoyance at her surprise. He might be a big man but he had the manners of a gentleman. Except when it came to dealing with thugs. ‘My brother’s an orthopaedic surgeon. Our father was a GP. Mother was a nurse. And so am I.’ And darned proud of it. It beat fishing out in the middle of the wild ocean any day, or trying to straighten out dumb jerks who thought the world owed them. Though that had caught up with him here this morning. Once again.
A brief knock on the door and two cops pushed into the room, filling the remaining space, which brought him closer to Harper.
‘Statement time,’ said the younger one as she gave him the once-over—a slow, ‘I like what I’m seeing’ once-over that stroked his ego but didn’t have his brain wanting to follow up. Nor his body.
Pulling out another chair, he copped a smirk from Harper. So she’d seen the constable’s appraisal. He shrugged. Nothing he could do about it; he hadn’t asked for it. It just happened. He turned to the other police officer. ‘You want to ask more questions? Or just take statements?’
The sooner this was done and that coffee arrived, then the sooner he could go back to work and put the morning behind him. That was if George let them go back to work. He seemed pretty adamant that they were going to have to go home for the rest of the day and rest up. Matilda and Jess too. Harper wasn’t going to like that; he was sure of it.
When they were done with the police Harper pulled out her phone and checked her messages. ‘Who doesn’t know what happened?’ she muttered and shut it off completely without answering any texts or emails.
Cody had texted his brother earlier to say he was good and not to worry about him. They’d talk tonight. Maybe. ‘You’re not putting it out there that you’re fine?’ She seemed very reluctant to talk to her family or this Jason character.
‘George did it.’ Her mouth lifted slightly. ‘He never does take any notice of what I want. No wonder he’s friends with my brothers.’
Cody thought she was just as guilty of that after George examined Harper’s throat and tried to make her take the rest of the shift off. Of course she refused, flouncing out to the department and picking up the next file on the way to the waiting room. George wasn’t best pleased, but he relented in the end. They could stay to the end of the shift but were relegated to paperwork only.
‘I’m fine, George,’ Harper insisted with a scowl.
‘You might think so, Harper, but you’ve had a huge shock. I’m not comfortable with you treating patients till you’ve had a full night’s sleep. That’s non-negotiable.’
Cody actually wouldn’t have minded knocking off early for the day but he didn’t want to leave Harper alone after what they’d been through. He felt weirdly protective of her after all the bravery she’d shown. She was quite a woman.
Careful, Cody. That way lies trouble.
‘You feel like going for a drink?’ Cody asked Harper at the end of their shift as they pushed through the swing doors and out into the corridor. ‘We’ve certainly earned one today.’ The rest of the shift was already at the pub just down the road, no doubt yacking about the event that had overtaken the department that morning, which kind of had him regretting his suggestion to Harper. He’d had enough of the talk. Already the truth had been expanded, the resultant stories getting way out of control.
‘I don’t think so.’ She looked decidedly uncomfortable with the idea. Or was that about going with him?
His tongue got the better of him, as it was prone to do at the most inconvenient of times. ‘You don’t drink with your colleagues?’ She wouldn’t now, not if he was going to be there.
‘I don’t drink at all when I have a migraine.’
He swore. Now he knew why she kept rubbing her temples. ‘How’re you getting home?’ he asked as he saw her blink furiously when they stepped out into the blinding summer sun.
‘I have a car.’ Her chin jutted out. ‘How about you?’
‘I have a motorbike.’
‘Then you’re not asking me for a ride home?’
‘No, but I am offering to drive you home in your car. You are in no fit state to be behind the wheel.’
‘Yes, nurse.’ Her tone would’ve sounded sarcastic if there hadn’t been resignation and tiredness lacing her words. It seemed as though now she’d stopped work she was unravelling completely. Her eyes were half-closed, and she dug around in her bag and dragged out sunglasses, which she slapped on her face before heading towards the staff car park.
He followed. ‘You know I’m right. A migraine is hell, apparently. Do you get blackouts with yours?’
Her mouth tightened and she said nothing.
‘Toss in that bruised and swollen throat, the shock of being held hostage, and you’re in need of a little pampering.’ Was he offering to pamper her? No, that had come out all wrong. But he was damned if he was going to retract his statement. He didn’t do being caught on the back foot—not by attractive, sharp-tongued women, at any rate.
Harper ducked between vehicles, seemingly intent on the furthest row. When she reached a dazzling blue, high-performance car she pinged the locks and glared at him over the roof. ‘Forgot where you parked your motorbike?’
Cody ignored her anger, believing it probably wasn’t really directed at him but more at the situation she found herself in. He wanted to help her, be there for her, and knew better than to come out and say so. He tried another tack. Running his hand over the bonnet, he noted, ‘Nice. Bet it goes like a cut cat.’
‘Faster.’ There was the smallest twist of her lips and a hint of laughter in the pained eyes she exposed when she removed her sunglasses to rub her temples again.
So heat did run along her veins. Not often, maybe, but obviously sometimes. Now, there was a challenge. She was into fast cars. But not today. He stared at her and held out his hand.
Harper stared straight back. At least, she tried to, but that migraine must’ve got the better of her because she blinked and her chin dropped. The keys sailed through the air and he snatched them before they landed on the paintwork. ‘Careful.’ Opening the passenger door, he waited patiently for her to come round and slide inside then, closing her door, he headed for the other side of the car, whistling under his breath.
Miss—was she a Miss, or a Mrs?—Dr White could be a pain in the backside. But she was also magnificent. He could appreciate the details without being tempted to learn more about her. If it hadn’t been for the day’s drama he wouldn’t be regarding her twice. He wouldn’t know that she had soft, muscle-tightening curves in all the right places. Or that she smelt delicious. She was clearly intelligent, and was a superb doctor. She was starting to sound too good. Harper’s nothing to me in any way other than as a colleague.
Anyway, she had a Jason in her life.
* * *
Harper leaned her head back against the headrest and groaned. Talk about the day from hell. All she wanted was to crawl into bed in her blacked-out room and let the headache drugs that she would take now she’d finished work do their magic. Hopefully she’d sleep, and not have nightmares about that gun or the man wielding it.
‘Address?’ Cody asked.
Without opening her eyes, she rattled off the street and number, then sighed with relief when he said he knew where to go. Talking hurt, and if she didn’t have to utter another word till next week she’d be happy. Not that she’d kept quiet earlier. It was like something had got hold of her tongue, had had her blathering away like she didn’t know how to stop, even though her throat protested every syllable. Why had she asked Cody all those personal questions? It wasn’t as though she had to have the answers to be able to work with him.
But after everything that had happened she’d felt a need to know more about the man who’d come to her rescue, who’d been there throughout the whole ordeal, who’d even understood her sorrow at losing her patient. He’d surprised her with how recently he’d qualified. She’d done the sums—he was in his early thirties. Fishermen had to be tough, physically and mentally, to cope with the conditions they worked in. She’d seen that in Cody today, and she’d also noticed the soft streak that made him so popular with patients.
Cody had stepped up, tried to talk the gunman into letting her go and hadn’t hesitated to take him down when she’d deliberately dropped towards the floor. It had been a risk doing that but she’d felt Cody was a part of her, that he’d known what was going on in her head all the time. The way he’d reacted suggested he’d dealt with villains before. Intriguing. But nothing to do with her. Whatever Cody had done in the past, she did not need to know. That would be getting too personal, and there was no point in doing that when she had no intention of socialising with him outside work.
Cody interrupted her thoughts. ‘You fixed for pills for that migraine?’
‘Yes.’ Like a doctor wouldn’t be prepared when she had regular migraines. ‘Of course.’
‘Just checking. You want anything for home? Food, milk or bottled water? I can duck into the supermarket for you.’
‘Got everything I need.’ Except a loving man. She gasped. Where had that come from? Had that crack on her skull with the gun addled her brain? Not once since she’d packed her bags and walked out the front door of the house she’d shared with Darren had she believed she was ready for a relationship with another man. A quick fling, yes—anything deep and meaningful, no. If there was even a man out there who’d accept her infertility issue, she’d struggle to believe he wouldn’t change his mind like Darren had done. She’d just have to wait until she was fifty and beyond wanting to be a mother before getting involved with someone.
Her gaze slid sideways to study the profile of the man next to her. He looked good behind the wheel in this big car. Strong, easy in his body, confident. Then there was his reliability—as far as she’d seen, anyway—and his friendly, caring side. There was that perfectionist element she’d noted before the morning had gone pear-shaped, but perfectionism could be a fault or a good trait. He could also get angry, as witnessed with their assailant. Controlled anger though, not a rant or rage.
‘You’re staring.’
She was. And liking what she saw more and more. A big enough reason to close her eyes again. Which she did, and sank further down the seat. Thank goodness for Fridays. The coming weekend would give her time to recover fully from the migraine. Whether she’d stop shaking from shock every time she thought about what had gone down in the ED by Monday was another story. What if the assailant had fired his gun? Had wounded someone—Jess, Cody or her? She shivered abruptly.
He placed one hand on her thigh, squeezed lightly and removed his hand fast. ‘Don’t think about him. It’s over now.’ He sounded so darned calm, as though nothing had affected him.
Yet his ability to constantly know what she was thinking riled her for no real reason. Again she pictured him taking that man down and her mood swiftly softened. He was very confident and for a large man he’d moved fast, light on his feet. The assailant hadn’t known what had hit him. Which was just as well, or it might’ve been Cody feeling the hot end of that gun. She shivered. For some strange reason she took real comfort from his confidence and was inordinately grateful to him for how he’d dealt with the situation. Also for his tenderness in that hug. Confused. That was what she was.
Nausea swamped her senses. She was going to be sick. No, she wasn’t. Not in front of Cody, nurse or not. That would be the final straw in a very bad day. Pressing the switch to lower her window, she leaned over and relished the air flowing across her face. It wasn’t cold air, but at least cooler than what was inside the car. No doubt she’d look a right state by the time they reached home, but at this moment she couldn’t care less.
‘You need to stop?’ Cody asked, already slowing the car and easing closer to the edge of the road.
‘No. Keep going.’ The sooner she got home, the better. The blinding pain behind her eyes was increasing in intensity, but at least the nausea was sort of under control. This was becoming the migraine to beat all migraines in her experience, no doubt exacerbated by the tension from earlier.
Her apartment was just around the corner. Soon she’d be shot of Cody Brand. Until Monday and work. With a bit of luck, by then they’d be back to being a doctor and a nurse working in the same department. Hopefully by then all the talk and texts would’ve died down too. She didn’t fancy multiple reruns of today’s event.
‘There’s a car in your driveway.’ Cody’s voice was deeper than most men’s, yet it soothed her frayed nerves and battered mind. ‘Want me to park on the road?’
‘Great.’ She’d forgotten about Gemma calling in after her shopping expedition so they could have a wine together. Not happening now; the mere thought of wine turned her stomach. ‘That’d be fine. I’ll shift the car later.’ Tomorrow when she finally crawled out of bed.
Harper was hardly aware of Cody pulling up. He had her door open and was reaching for her elbow so quickly it came as a surprise. ‘Come on. I’ll see you to your door.’
‘I can manage.’ And she promptly proved herself wrong when her knees refused to hold her upright.
‘Now, don’t take this the wrong way,’ Cody murmured as he swung her up in his arms and nudged the door shut with his hip. ‘But falling flat on your face after everything else could really mess up your day.’ He strode up the path towards her front door as though she was no heavier than a bag of spuds. A very small bag at that.
Harper didn’t bother arguing. He wouldn’t listen and she didn’t have any energy left. Besides, it was lovely lying against that expansive chest and feeling strong arms around her. Arms she imagined holding her through the night. Jeez, Harper, get a grip.
‘Harper? Jason said you were all right but you’re not looking great.’ Typical Gemma: go for the throat. No, someone else already did that today.
‘Gemma,’ she squeaked.
Her sister-in-law stood in the doorway, her eyes flicking between her and Cody, worry slowly turning to speculation as she studied Cody from head to foot. ‘Or do I need to grab my bag and head away pronto? Leave you two alone?’
Harper cringed. She loved Gemma to bits but the woman had a mission in life to find her a man who’d accept all her problems without batting an eyelid—and from what she was reading on Gemma’s face right this minute Cody was a prime target. No way in hell. Squirming out of Cody’s arms, she stood shakily between him and Gemma. ‘I’ve got a migraine.’
It seemed Gemma had become deaf overnight. She focused entirely on Cody and asked, ‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Cody. I work with Harper.’
Feeling Cody’s hand on her elbow—again—Harper wanted to shrug him away but doubted she had the strength to walk unaided. ‘I need to lie down. Going to take a rain check on that wine, Gem.’
‘Your voice’s all weird.’ Gemma leaned closer. ‘What’s wrong with your neck? Jason told me about the gunman but you’ve been hurt. You’re not all right, are you? That’s why Cody’s here.’
‘Harper needs to get inside and lie down in a dark room.’ Cody was firm, like he’d take no argument.
Gemma caught the message and led the way indoors. ‘What really happened, Harper? Spill.’
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