The Prince Next Door. Sue Civil-Brown

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The Prince Next Door - Sue Civil-Brown


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bent forward, putting her ear to the man’s mouth to listen for breath as she also felt his carotid artery for a pulse.

      Neither.

      She tipped the man’s head back and used her fingers to ensure his air passage was clear. Then, holding his tongue with her thumb so it wouldn’t fall back in his throat, she applied the breathing bag.

      “Can someone use this bag?” she asked. “Like this? While I try to resuscitate his heart.”

      “I will.”

      She suddenly found herself looking in the brown eyes of her mysterious neighbor, who knelt across from her. She didn’t have time now to think of that, though. “Like this,” she said. “Every time I tell you.”

      “Got it.”

      She began compressions, timing them, leaning fully into them with all the weight in her body, while her mysterious neighbor pumped air into his lungs as ordered. Every five compressions, she paused to listen.

      Then she heard it, the thud of a heartbeat. Then a weak lub-dub.

      “Stop for a second,” she said, and put her ear to the man’s mouth. A shaky breath. Another, deeper. Feeling the carotid, she found a pulse. A little irregular, but recurring.

      “Thanks,” she said to her neighbor.

      He nodded, his dark eyes grave. “It’s the least I could do.”

      But the danger wasn’t past. In the distance she could hear the wail of approaching sirens. She looked along the length of the man’s body and realized his swim trunks were shredded, and a zig-zaggy burn, almost like a lightning bolt itself, marked his left side and left thigh.

      She grabbed the blanket and spread it over him. “Elevate his feet with my bag,” she said to one of the people in the crowd.

      Then she returned her attention to her patient’s face. His color was improving, he was still breathing. Thank God. She touched his cheek, shaking his head gently. “Can you hear me?”

      A moan escaped him.

      “Does anyone know his name?” she asked.

      “It’s Jack,” said a woman.

      “Jack. Jack! Can you hear me? Open your eyes!” Much to her relief, his eyelids fluttered. His eyes were unfocused, but they were open. “Stay with us, Jack. Stay awake. Help is coming.”

      He moaned again, but his eyes stayed open.

      “I told him,” said the woman. “I told him not to go in the water! But no, he’s a tough macho idiot…” Her voice trailed away in sobs.

      “Nobody ought to be on this beach,” Serena said firmly. “Nobody.”

      “But it’s our vacation,” some man argued. “Damn it, I paid a fortune…”

      “You’ll pay even more in hospital bills,” Serena said shortly, trying to pick out the speaker from the crowd. “This place isn’t known as the lightning capital of the world for nothing.”

      As if to back her up, another bolt sizzled and crackled downward, farther out in the water.

      As if on cue, the curious began to hurry away.

      Then, other than the woman who was Jack’s companion, Serena and the mysterious neighbor were alone with the patient. She couldn’t avoid his eyes then.

      “Thank you,” she said again.

      “You saved his life,” he said, and smiled.

      God, it was a devastating smile. Things inside her went all fluttery and soft, and she wanted to kick her own butt. She cleared her throat and shrugged. “I’m a doctor.”

      “I heard.” He extended his hand. “Darius Maxwell. Art dealer.”

      “Hi.” She had to drag her gaze away from him and return her attention to Jack, who was beginning to actually focus his eyes. They found her and he said thickly, “You’re an angel. Oh, God, I’m dead.”

      “No you’re not,” the sobbing woman said, “but you damn well oughta be.”

      Jack actually smiled.

      Serena was saved by the arrival of the paramedics. She gave them a crisp, professional report and let them take over responsibility. Her specialty didn’t involve caring for lightning victims…until they wanted scars removed. “Take care,” she said to Jack and his wife.

      Then she gathered up her things and headed back toward the building while another crackle of lightning sizzled behind her.

      “Excuse me!” Darius Maxwell caught up with her.

      Who was following whom? “Yes?” She didn’t want to look at him. Absolutely not. He was too…too…attractive.

      “Listen, since we’re neighbors…can I buy you dinner?”

      Her instinct was to refuse. After all, what did she know about this man? On the other hand, getting to know him would be a wonderful way to find out what he was up to.

      Uh-uh. Moth, flame, singed and all that. “I don’t think so. But thank you.”

      “I understand.” They had reached the shelter of the parking garage, safer from the lightning, which was now forking across the sky like Thor’s own fireworks show. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

      She darted a glance at him, hoping he was about to spill the beans. He disappointed her.

      “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll order takeout and we can eat at my place or yours.”

      Serena didn’t know if that was much safer. She hesitated before the elevator door. On the one hand, here was a sterling opportunity to learn something about this man and his evil doings. On the other, she’d be about as safe as a lamb in a cage with a tiger. Or so she wanted to believe.

      “Compromise,” she said finally.

      “Yes?”

      God, his smile was just too inviting. “I’ll ask Ariel to join us. You know Ariel?”

      “Of course. The lovely young woman who lives at the other end of the wing. That would be delightful.” His dark eyes creased at the corner.

      Damn, he was oozing warmth. She wondered if she was going to get a sunburn standing here.

      “One more condition,” she said.

      “Yes?”

      “We eat inside if it’s still storming.”

      He laughed. “Of course. Say seven?”

      The elevator door opened, and she didn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed when he didn’t join her.

      “I’ve got an errand to run,” he said pleasantly. “See you tonight.”

      The door closed. Errand? He probably needed to deliver some dope, she thought sourly.

      That’s when she realized that she was looking forward to the evening with entirely too much excitement.

      Idiot.

      “WHAT DO YOU need me for?” Ariel wanted to know. “I’m too young to chaperone someone your age.”

      Serena tried not to grit her teeth. “I don’t know anything about him! I don’t want to be alone with him.”

      “I thought that would be exactly what you’d want. So you could tie him to a chair and threaten to beat him with a kitchen appliance until he tells you the truth.”

      Serena rolled her eyes. “Traitor.”

      Ariel frowned. “No, he might like that.”

      Serena gasped. “What do you know about such things?”

      Ariel


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