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Dr Zinetti's Snowkissed Bride. Sarah MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.

Dr Zinetti's Snowkissed Bride - Sarah Morgan


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a maddening smile, he pushed past her into the tiny tent. ‘She was brunette.’

      ‘This tent isn’t big enough for you and me,’ Meg gritted, but he ignored her, his leg brushing against hers as he settled himself next to the injured boy. His wide shoulders pressed against the flimsy tent and there was barely room left to breathe, but that didn’t seem to bother him. And, for once, it didn’t bother her either. Not that she would ever have admitted it, but she was really relieved it was him.

      Dino Zinetti might be too good looking for his own good, he might drive her crazy and make her feel horribly uncomfortable, but he was also a skilled doctor and an experienced mountaineer.

      ‘You chose lovely weather for your trip, Harry.’ He sat next to the injured boy, the same eyes that had been seducing her moments earlier now sharp and focused, the sexy smile replaced with a reassuring one. ‘You seem to have got yourself in a spot of bother. You’re lucky wolf-girl happened to be out today on one of her lone walks.’

      Harry’s lips were turning blue. ‘I made a mistake. I called her dog-girl.’

      ‘Ah…’ Dino’s eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘In a couple more years I’ll give you some tips on the right and wrong things to say to women.’ His tone was relaxed and easy, in direct contrast to his fingers, which were working swiftly, checking pulse, pupils and other signs. ‘Do you know if you knocked yourself out?’ He questioned the boy, interspersing reassurance with questions designed to aid his clinical judgement.

      ‘He might have done. GCS of fifteen when I got here but that’s a nasty gash on his head. I think he needs a CT scan. Do you reckon the helicopter might still make it, or is the weather too bad?’ Cramped in the confines of the tiny tent, Meg found it unsettling to be pressed so close to him. ‘Are we going to have to wait it out for a few hours?’

      ‘You want to leave this place?’ Smiling, Dino checked Harry’s pupils, asked him another couple of questions and then turned his attention to the broken wrist. ‘Are you telling me this isn’t the most romantic place you’ve ever spent a night? A beautiful woman, alone with two strong men?’

      ‘One strong man. I don’t think I count.’ Harry gave a weak smile. ‘You’re pretty smooth, Dr Zinetti. When I’m older, I want to be like you.’

      ‘Trust me, you don’t.’ Meg squashed herself against the tent to make as much space as possible. ‘Not unless you want to walk around with a permanent black eye courtesy of all the women who have punched you. Dr Zinetti is Italian so that’s how he gets away with being so politically incorrect. You don’t have that excuse. And you do count, Harry.’

      ‘I don’t think so. I don’t feel too good…’ Harry’s eyes drifted closed and this time didn’t open again.

      Meg felt her heart do an emergency stop. Instead of focusing on not allowing any of her body parts to touch Dino, she concentrated on Harry. ‘He—’

      ‘Take a breath, wolf-girl,’ Dino said calmly. ‘There’s a spare jacket in my backpack and a space blanket. Get them both on him because his temperature is dropping and I don’t want to add hypothermia to his list of problems. Time to call in the cavalry.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a satellite phone while Meg tucked the extra insulation around the injured boy.

      As Dino talked to the search-and-rescue team, giving GPS co-ordinates, she was thinking about how worried Harry’s mother would be.

      ‘They’re going to scramble a helicopter.’ Dino rocked back on his heels, frowning as the tent flapped against his back. ‘I think he needs a faster trip to hospital than we can give him on a stretcher.’

      ‘The wind is too high for the helicopter.’

      ‘It’s dropped slightly. They’re going to give it a try, although of course it won’t be easy given that we’re in a gully.’ He gave a humourless smile. ‘Let’s hope the winchman likes a challenge. Is Rambo all right with noisy helicopters?’

      ‘Of course. He’s flown in them more times than you.’ Meg was looking at Harry, worried about his pallor. ‘Dino—’

      ‘I know. I see. I agree with you that we need to get him to hospital and do a CT scan. I’ve rung the department.’

      ‘Who is on duty this evening?’

      ‘Sean Nicholson. And the helicopter crew picked up Daniel Buchannan when they received our call.’

      In the confines of the tent, their faces were close. She could see the thickness of his eyelashes and the beginnings of stubble on his jaw. It was a face so handsome that no woman passed him without taking a long, covetous look. Except her. Resolutely, she looked the other way. The day she started noticing that he was handsome was the day she was in trouble. So he had sexy eyes. So what? ‘So you’re not going in the helicopter?’

      ‘No. I’m staying with you, wolf-girl.’ Suddenly those sexy eyes were deadly serious. ‘What were you doing up here, Meg? Hardly the weather for an evening stroll. Blizzard, drifting snow, wind chill…’

      ‘Perfect evening for a walk.’ Meg didn’t bother telling him that was how she liked the weather. Wild and crazy. She’d given up explaining herself to people years before. ‘Anyway, you should be thanking me. If I hadn’t decided to walk, I wouldn’t have found Harry. I didn’t plan to come up this far but Rambo picked up the scent.’

      ‘You should be at home, baking cookies or painting your nails.’

      Even though she knew he was intentionally trying to wind her up she was still shocked by the emotion that rushed through her body. Why did comments like that still bother her so much? Reminding herself that it had been nothing more than a flippant remark on his part, Meg pulled a face. ‘I’d rather be blown off a ridge in a force-nine gale than paint my nails. Not that I expect you to understand that. The women you date can’t walk and blink at the same time. The one today—could she talk and eat her lunch?’

      ‘Jealous, amore?’

      ‘No. I’d rather poke myself in the eye with a fork than have a romantic lunch with you.’

      ‘Is that so? You have strange aspirations, Meg Miller.’ Humour in his eyes, Dino watched her for a moment and then turned back to Harry, checking his temperature and other vital signs again. ‘His GCS is dropping.’

      ‘Perhaps we should—’ Meg broke off as Dino put a hand on her arm.

      ‘Listen. No wind. Must be the eye of the storm.’

      All she could hear was the throb of blood in her ears. She told herself it had absolutely nothing to do with the touch of his hand on her arm and the fact that they couldn’t move without brushing past each other. Forcing herself to focus, she realised that the tent was no longer flapping so violently. ‘I can hear the helicopter.’ She stuck her head out of the opening and saw lights approaching high above them. ‘They’ll have to hover above the gully.’

      ‘I’ll make sure everything is strapped down.’ Dino crawled out of the tent to help the helicopter crew and Meg’s gaze lingered on his shoulders. She was an athlete, she told herself. It was natural that she’d admire honed muscle and a powerful physique.

      He stood on the narrow, snow-covered path, ready to assist the winchman. As the helicopter hovered above the narrow gully, the downdraft caused the sides of the tent to flap and whip up the new snow. Given the potential hazards, there was no wasted time. The winchman was lowered out of the helicopter and together the three of them strapped Harry securely to the stretcher, protecting his back and his neck. As he was winched back up into the helicopter, Dino held the guide rope to help prevent the potentially lethal swing of the winch rope into the sides of the gully. Once Harry was safely inside the helicopter, the crew released the guide rope and disappeared into the darkness.

      Meg felt the adrenaline drain away and relief take its place. It was almost weakness, this response after the event, and she slid back inside the tent and sat for a moment, breathing slowly,


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