wave of nausea moved over her. Blowing out a deep breath, she battled the desire to throw up again.
He assisted her into the seat, his movements gentle. “Do you need help with the buckle?”
She reached over to take the seat belt, but pain shot through her left hand as she attempted to pull it down. He leaned over to buckle her, and she sucked in her stomach in an instinctive response to make herself appear smaller. Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth. God, what would his lips feel like against mine? She tried to block out the idea and blurted, “Your vehicle smells like a diner.”
His lips curved into a grin, and his rugged good looks morphed into just pure handsome. Speaking softly, his breath whispering across her cheeks, he said, “That’s because I’ve got a dozen sausage biscuits in that bag.”
He leaned back, threw the door closed, and jogged around the front of his SUV. Calling out to the policeman still standing by the tape, he said, “I’ll take care of getting her vehicle later.”
They drove in silence for a moment, and Harper’s mind raced. How could everything have gone so wrong within a matter of moments? Following all proper procedures, she was almost finished with the evidence collection that she would need for both her certification and for her employer when she had suddenly landed on her ass with a possible broken wrist. And, of course, the cause of both had to be an infuriating—albeit gorgeous—detective.
Sighing, she knew that she needed to make amends. She had been sure that the police were finished with the scene or she would have waited. “While I had every right to be where I was, I’m sorry if I got in your way. I’m also sorry that you’re now having to take your time to drive me to the hospital. I’m sure I could’ve made the trip myself.”
“Apology accepted.”
His deep voice glided over her, sounding sincere. Twisting her head around to look at him, she asked, “That’s it?”
He shrugged. “You apologized. I accepted.”
She was quiet for a moment, wondering about the ease of his acceptance, and he continued, “I was taught that a heartfelt apology should always be accepted. If not, then it reflects on me, not the other person. And while we’re at it, I’m sorry to be the cause of your fall.”
She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. His words were spoken in a soft voice, but the sincerity rang out clearly, something she had not expected considering his earlier arrogance. Her mother’s similar words ran through her mind. “Funny, I was taught the same thing... apology accepted.”
They remained quiet, and she soon observed they were already pulling up to Hope City General Hospital. Expecting him to let her out, she blinked in surprise as he parked outside the emergency room and flashed his badge to one of the guards standing near the door. He offered her his hand to assist her down and, looking over his shoulder, signaled for a wheelchair.
Shooting him a sideways glance, she whispered, “I can walk!”
Nodding, he stepped back, allowing her to move through the ER doors. Walking to the reception desk, she pulled out her wallet with some difficulty and handed over her information, ID, and health insurance card before being whisked to one of the back bays. Glancing behind her, she saw Sean standing with his legs apart, his hands on his hips, face hard and unreadable... and wondered if that was his usual stance. Before she could blink, the doors closed, and he was gone.
Grateful that with his assistance she had made it to the emergency room quickly, through reception, and now into an examining room. But the pain in her wrist was increasing and overtook all other thoughts. A doctor walked in, his expression as exhausted and beleaguered as she felt, and she heaved a great sigh.
Two hours later, after numerous medical personnel had popped in—most asking the same questions—x-rays and splinting her arm for a hairline fracture near her wrist, she signed her discharge papers, accepted the pain prescription, and was wheeled back to the front of ER.
“Do you have a ride?” the nursing assistant asked as his gaze had already moved toward the crowded waiting room, probably in anticipation of the next patient.
She shook her head. “No. My car is still where I fell. I’ll call a friend to come get me.” She stood, thanked the young man who offered a