Capturing The Millionaire

Dimly, Kayla could make out the back of a man’s head. His face appeared to be all but swallowed up by the air bag that had deployed.

She heard a groan and realized it was coming from her, not him.

Her runaway, Winchester, was hopping on his hind legs, as if to tell her that he had discovered the man first. This had to be the canine variation on “He followed me home, can I keep him?”

The man wasn’t moving.

Kayla held her breath. Was the driver just unconscious, or—?

“This is the part where I tell you to go for help,” she murmured to the dogs, trying to think. “If there was someone to go get.”

Which there wasn’t. She lived alone and the closest neighbor was more than three miles away. Even if she could send the dogs there, no one would understand why they were barking. More than likely they’d call the sheriff, or just ignore the animals.

In either case, it did her no good. She was on her own here.

Setting the lantern down, Kayla tried the driver’s door. At first it didn’t budge, but she put her whole weight into pulling it. After several mighty tugs, miraculously, the door gave way. Kayla stumbled backward and would have fallen into the mud had the tree not been at her back. She slammed into it, felt the vibration up and down her spine, jarring her teeth.

She hung on to the door handle for a moment, trying to get her breath. As she drew in moist air, she stared into the car. The driver’s face was still buried in the air bag, and the seat belt had a tight grip on the rest of him, holding him in place. Admitted to the party, the rain was now leaving its mark, hungrily anointing every exposed part of the stranger and soaking him to the skin.

And he still wasn’t moving.

Chapter Two

“Mister. Hey, mister.” Kayla raised her voice to be heard above the howl of the wind. “Can you hear me?”

When there was no response, she shook the man by the shoulder. Again, nothing happened. The stranger didn’t lift his head, didn’t try to move or make a sound. He was as still as death.

The uneasiness she felt began to grow. What if he was seriously injured, or—?

“Oh, God,” Kayla murmured under her breath.

Moving back a foot, she nearly stepped on Winchester. The dog was hobbling about as if he had every intention of leaping into the car and reviving the stranger. At this rate, she was going to wind up stomping on one of his good legs.

“Stay out of the way, boy,” Kayla ordered, and he reluctantly obeyed.

She frowned. The air bag was not deflating, but still took up all the available space on the driver’s side. After having possibly saved his life, it was, in effect, smothering the man.

Kayla pushed against the bag, but it didn’t give. She tried hitting it with the side of her hand, hoping to make the huge tan, marshmallow-like pillow deflate.

It didn’t.

Desperate, Kayla put the lantern down on the wet ground and felt around in her pockets. In the morning, when she got dressed, she automatically put her cell phone in her pocket, along with the old Swiss army knife that had once been her father’s prized possession.

A smile of relief crossed her lips as her fingers came in contact with a small, familiar shape. Quickly taking it out, she unfolded the largest blade and jabbed the air bag with it. Air whooshed out as the bag deflated.

The moment it was flat, the stranger’s head fell forward, hitting the steering wheel. He was obviously still unconscious, or at least she hoped so. The alternative was gruesome.

Kayla felt the side of his neck with her fingertips and found a pulse. “Lucky,” she muttered under her breath.

The next step was to free him from the car. She’d seen accidents where the vehicle was so badly mangled, the fire department had to be summoned, with its jaws of life. Fortunately, this wasn’t one of those cases. Considering the conditions, the driver had been incredibly lucky. She wondered if he’d been drinking. But a quick sniff of the air near his face told her he hadn’t been.

Just another Southern Californian who didn’t know how to drive in the rain, she thought. Leaning over him, she struggled to find the release button for the seat belt.

Was it her imagination, or was he stirring? God knew she hadn’t been this close to a man in a very long time.

“Have…we…met?”

Sucking in her breath, Kayla jerked back, hitting her head against the car roof as she heard the hoarsely whispered question.

She swallowed. “You’re awake,” she declared in stunned relief.

“Or…you’re…a dream,” Alain mumbled weakly. Was that his voice? It sounded so high, so distant. And his eyelids, oh God, his eyelids felt heavier than a ton of coal. They kept trying to close.

Was he hallucinating? He heard barking. The hounds of hell? Was he in hell?

Alain tried to focus on the woman in front of him. He was delirious, he concluded. There was no other explanation for his seeing a redheaded angel in a rain slicker.

Kayla looked at the stranger closely. There was blood oozing from a wide gash on his forehead just above his right eyebrow and his eyes kept rolling upward. He looked as if he was going to pass out again at any moment. She slipped her arm around his waist, still trying to find the seat belt’s release button.

“Definitely…a dream,” Alain breathed as he felt her fingers feathering along his thigh. Damn, if he’d known hell was populated by creatures like this, he would have volunteered to go a long time ago.

Finding the button, she pressed it and tugged away his seat belt. Kayla looked up at his face. His eyes were shut.

“No, no, don’t fade on me now,” she begged. Getting the stranger to her house was going to be next to impossible if he was unconscious. She was strong, but not that strong. “Stay with me. Please,” she urged.

To her relief, the stranger opened his eyes again. “Best…offer…I’ve had…all day,” he said, wincing with every word that left his lips.

“Terrific,” she murmured. “Of all the men to crash into my tree, I have to get a playboy.”

Moving her fingers along his ribs gingerly, she was rewarded with another series of winces. He must have cracked or bruised them, she thought in dismay.

“Okay, hang in there,” she told him as she slowly moved his torso and legs, so that he was facing out of the vehicle. With effort, she placed her arm beneath his shoulder and grasped his wrist with her hand.

The man’s eyes remained closed, but he mumbled against her ear, “You shouldn’t…put your trees…where…people can…hit them.”

Kayla did her best to block the shiver that his breath created. Gritting her teeth against the effort she was about to make, she promised, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Spreading her feet, she braced herself, then attempted to rise while holding him. She felt him sagging. “Work with me here, mister.”

She thought she heard a chuckle. “What…did you have…in…mind?”

“Definitely not what you have in mind,” she assured him. Taking a deep breath, she straightened. The man she was trying to rescue was all but a dead weight.

Curling her arm around his waist as best she could, she focused on making the long journey across her lawn to her front door.

“Sorry…” His single word was carried away in the howling wind. The next moment, its meaning became clear: the man had passed out.

“No, no, wait,” Kayla pleaded frantically, but it was too late.

He went down like a ton of bricks. She almost pitched forward with him, but let go at the last moment. Frustrated, she looked at the blond, striking stranger. Unconscious, he was just too much for her to carry.