Those words send Matt Blakefield fleeing his brother’s wedding. Marriage or even falling in love is the last of his desires. What he wants to learn is the identity of the owner of the house he wants to use as a make-over for the magazine he edits, Good Livin’. A fall rainstorm and a pine tree sends his motorcycle into a spin and into the arms of an old acquaintance, a girl he hurt in high school.
Cassie Moore has borrowed a cabin from one of her partners in a cardiology practice to come to terms with a broken engagement. The news came via an email. Her fiancée had married another woman just weeks before their scheduled marriage. The appearance of Matt at her door brings an old attraction into full bloom. She realizes love is lurking but he’s a player and she needs to forget the connection.
Is it possible that a weekend of love can become a lifetime?
When Cassie reached the main room she popped the movie disc in place, filled the second flute with champagne and selected a truffle. As she savored the rich chocolate she draped the afghan over her shoulders and reached for the remote.
A rumble of thunder drowned the opening music of the movie. A loud crash made her jump. Had lightning struck nearby? She crossed to the window and turned on the yard lights.
A heap on the ground near the end of the driveway caught her attention. A movement made her realize she saw a body. She grabbed a yellow slicker from a hook near the door, slipped on her sneakers and opened the door.
Moments later she clattered down the steps. Rain pelted her. She raced to the figure. As she drew closer she saw a man wearing a helmet and leather jacket. A motorcycle rested against the lone pine tree beside the drive.
Cassie crouched and felt for a carotid pulse. The steady beat against her fingers reassured her. When she grasped his shoulder he groaned. Her breath escaped on a sigh. She needed to see if any bones had been broken and get him out of the storm. While she was a doctor, hearts not bones were her specialty.
“Where do you hurt?”
He groaned. “Everywhere.”
“Can you move your arms and legs?”
He complied. This time his groan emerged louder and deeper.
“Try to sit up.”
Slowly he eased into a sitting position. “My bike?”
Cassie choked back a laugh. How like a man. “Before you worry about your wheels you need to get out of the rain and be checked for other injuries. Can you stand?”
“Probably.”
With her help he stood and swayed. He clutched Cassie’s shoulders. They nearly fell but she steadied him.
“Easy.” She put an arm around his waist. “Did you lose consciousness?”
“Don’t think so. Had the breath knocked out. Stunned a bit.” He drew a breath. “Must have been a deer.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The thing on the road. Big. Dark. Saw the creature in a flash of lightning. Couldn’t stop.”
Cassie peered toward the road. If he’d broadsided a deer, the animal would be on the road either dead or badly injured. She saw no sign of one. The motorcycle had crashed into the tree where the road curved. Had he been more than stunned? Was he drunk? Was she a fool for taking a stranger into the cabin?
She could leave him at her car and run inside for her keys. They could drive to town. Except she wasn’t dressed for going to town or for entertaining a guest.
“Where are we going?”
“To the cabin so I can check you for injuries.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
His deep voice held a quality that sent heat rushing through her veins. She faltered. Why the reaction? With all the recent developments she should avoid thinking of any man as attractive until she recovered from the pain of Tim’s rejection.
She helped the stranger through the wind driven rain to the roofed porch. The protection from the steady downpour was welcome. She opened the door and they stepped inside. Water beaded on her yellow slicker and his leather jacket. Pools collected on the slate foyer floor.
She shivered. “Cold.”
“Makes two of us.”
Cassie released her hold on him and dragged a metal kitchen chair with a padded seat and back into the entrance. She wished for her medical bag so she could do a complete assessment but the bag was at her apartment. While she couldn’t check his blood pressure or listen to his heart his pulse beat strong and steady. For the rest of the exam she could improvise.
“What year is it?” She asked the first question to check his mental status.
He answered with month, day and year.
“Where are you?”
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