Page 64 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 1-4

At that moment someone bent over her and she found herself looking up into a pair of eyes the dark grey of thunderclouds, framed by long black lashes and straight black brows.

Her breath caught.

It was the man. The beautiful man from her dream. Except apparently he wasn’t a dream after all.

His face was all rough angles and chiselled planes, his mouth hard, his cheekbones high, and he had the most impressive jaw she’d ever seen.

No, perhaps beautiful wasn’t the right word for him. Compelling, maybe. Or magnetic.

Electric.

Nell stared at him, her voice vanishing somewhere she couldn’t reach.

He was very tall, wide shoulders and broad, muscled chest encased in an expertly tailored white shirt that looked somewhat damp. He also wore black trousers that highlighted a narrow waist and powerful thighs and...

Lord. What was she doing? She never gazed at men like that. She’d certainly never gazed at Clayton like that. Then again, Clayton didn’t look like this man and, also, Clayton had ghosted her in a bar the night she’d planned on sleeping with him.

Clayton, who she’d thought was the perfect man for her. Who worked for a bank, owned his own home, and was good-looking. Whom she’d had fun with and—

And who didn’t want you.

Nell swallowed, a hot wave of remembered embarrassment washing through her, but she forced the thought away, concentrating instead on the man at her bedside and not the man who’d left her high and dry.

He looked expensive, this man in his damp evening clothes, and he radiated authority, as if he were one of the doctors who ruled this ER. No, as if he were one of the people who ruled the entire hospital, or possibly even the entire city itself. Maybe even the whole country...

Then something else interrupted the rush of chaotic thoughts. He was holding her hand, his fingers warm and strong, and somehow reassuring. She wanted to tighten her grip, as if he were all that stood between her and a hundred-foot drop.

‘Are you well?’ His voice was deep and a touch rough, with a hint of an accent she couldn’t place. Definitely not Australian.

Nell tried to find her own. ‘Um... My head hurts.’

‘Yes,’ the man said. ‘You had an accident. You slipped on the wet pavement and hit your head, and so I called an ambulance. You are in hospital.’

Oh, God. She must have been more upset than she’d thought if she’d slipped. She was normally pretty careful on the bluestone paving of Melbourne’s streets, especially when it was raining. It had better not be serious. Sarah, her manager, would be extremely annoyed if she couldn’t go to work the next day, since they were already short-staffed.

At that moment the curtain was pushed back and a doctor came in, looking harried. ‘Miss Underwood,’ she said. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘A bit woozy,’ Nell replied.

‘Of course, you’ve had quite the knock on the head. Luckily, Mr Katsaros here was able to call an ambulance and get you in to see us.’

‘It was nothing,’ the man—Mr Katsaros—said dismissively. He released his grip on her hand and glanced at her. ‘You’ll be looked after here.’

Her fingers tingled from where he’d been holding them, and his grey gaze was very sharp, very intense. It was as if all the air in the room had been sucked away when he looked at her, which was disconcerting.

‘Thank you,’ she said, trying to sound her usual calm, firm self since that was her default setting whenever she was disconcerted. Being calm and firm also worked extremely well with small children, animals and overbearing men.

‘We’ll need to do a brief examination,’ the doctor said, ‘but first I need to know if you have anyone at home who can look after you.’

Nell swallowed, her mouth a little dry. ‘No, I live alone.’

‘Friends or family?’

She shook head again. The only friend she could call on was Lisa, who also worked at the preschool, but she was on holiday in Bali. And as for her family... Her parents had died when she was a child, and there was no point asking her aunt or uncle. Or her cousins. She hadn’t been in contact with them for years and didn’t know how to reach them even if she’d wanted to. Which she didn’t. They’d never been interested in her and the feeling was mutual.

The doctor frowned. ‘You need to be with someone for at least twenty-four hours. Are you sure you don’t have anyone you can call?’

Nell’s head was starting to feel a little better so she sat up, taking it slow, pleased to find the dizziness receding. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine,’ she said. There was her neighbour, Mrs Martin, who could look in on her. No need to put anyone else to any trouble over a silly bump on the head. ‘I have a neighbour who can—’

---