eyes as he crossed in front of the SUVâs headlights. Burnished by light, surrounded by darkness, he looked more myth than man as he yanked open the passenger door for her.
Woodenly she eased into the seat, stiff with cold, but not feeling anything but a horrible void. Tepid airbreezed out of the vents in the dash and she couldnât feel it. The clock glowed the timeânot thirty minutes had passed since theyâd nearly followed Samantha Fields off the road.
Snow drifted inside with Ryan as he collapsed in the seat and slammed the door. He filled the seat, slumping with his head rolling back against the headrest. His presence made the passenger compartment shrink. âI was able to get through to Tim, a friend I used to work with. Heâs one of the best surgeons in this area, and heâs agreed to meet Samantha at the hospital. Heâll take excellent care of her.â
âYou took the time to do that?â
âSure. Helping people is what I do. Itâs why I studied all those years. Why Iâm in debt for a few hundred grand.â Although exhaustion lined his face and bruised the skin beneath his eyes, his wink was saucy.
She had watched while he worked tirelessly alongside the medics stabilizing Samanthaâs neck and spine so that she had the best possible outcome, in case of a spinal cord injury. All in a dayâs work for him, maybe, but sheâd never seen anyone like him.
She pulled off her mittens, now that the heater was kicking out a decent hot breeze. âLetâs trade places. Iâll drive and let you sit here and warm your hands. Youâve got to be half frozen.â
âThe cold never used to bother me. Iâve been away from Montana too long. Itâs the Phoenix weather. Itâs thinned my blood. Now I turn into an icicle the second it snows. Itâs not manly. Itâs embarrassing.â
âIâm embarrassed for you.â Sheâd never met a better example of what a man should be, but he seemed unaware that he was that and more. âMove. Go on. I canât drive from over here.â
As if too exhausted to lift his head from the seat back, Ryan swiveled his eyes to focus on her with a disbelieving look. One eyebrow crooked with obvious skepticism. âYouâd really drive? Youâre not just saying that, right?â
âRight.â
âYouâre not afraid to drive in this stuff?â
âDo I look as if Iâm shaking in my boots? No.â
âBut youâre a girl. Girls donât drive in lots of snow. At least not in my experience.â
âYou have lived in Arizona too long!â Kristin took one look at the man slouching beside her, dappled with big flakes of melting snow, his face chapped from the bitter temperatures outside. âDonât let the designer clothes fool you. You can take the girl out of Montana, but not Montana out of the girl. Let me behind the wheel and Iâll show you.â
âYeah? Iâd be grateful if I could just close my eyes for about ten minutes.â
âHow about all the way until the next town?â
âDeal.â Ryan opened the door and shouldered out into the dark. âNo, you climb over and stay inside. Iâll brave the storm. Iâm still frozen anyway.â
With a lopsided grin, he was gone, leaving the scent of wind, a hint of expensive cologne and man. A pleasant combination. Kristin climbed over the console andinto the seat that was pushed too far back for her feet to reach the pedals. She adjusted the seat, snapped the shoulder harness into place and checked out the controls.
Ryan cut through the headlights with that confident, jaunty walk of his. He was like a hero out of an old black-and-white movie, tough and strong and compassionate. She didnât know they made men like that anymore.
He collapsed beside her, bringing with him the frigid wind and a blast of snow. He swiped icy flakes off his eyebrows.