Kissed By a Stranger

‘In the Gold Coast Hinterland. I know it. It borders a property of mine.’ He frowned. ‘How will you get home from here?’

She grimaced. ‘I can’t even think about home until I’ve checked in with the studio. Luckily the camera crew weren’t involved, so I can hitch a ride with them.’

Was she imagining things or did he seem relieved that she wouldn’t need a lift home? She found the thought oddly disquieting. Already she found herself curiously reluctant to see him walk away.

Whether it was the thought of him leaving her life as abruptly as he’d entered it or the sight of Rick walking towards her wielding his camera, she wasn’t sure. But she felt light-headed suddenly. She fought the sensation down. Automatically her hand went to the tangled mess of her hair. ‘Don’t look now, but here’s one of my crew now, and he’s got the camera turning. He must have decided we’re part of the story.’

Luke’s dark gaze flickered to the approaching cameraman. Then he looked around at the crowd pressing in on them from all sides. In seconds Rick would have them on film for that evening’s edition of Coast to Coast.

‘Do you want to have this on film?’ Luke asked her urgently.

She shook her head. Her shoulder-length blonde curls were a mass of tangles, her skin felt gritty with cinders from the explosion and her clothes were torn and dirty. ‘Not looking like this.’

‘Neither do I. So there’s only one solution.’

‘What are you—?’

Before she could complete her question, his mouth fastened over hers. It was just as well he had consulted her, because resistance would have been futile. It would have been like wrestling with a brick wall resting on her chest.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked between breaths.

‘Giving you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation,’ he said, the same way.

It was hard to speak when her mouth was being covered every few seconds by his. It was also unnerving to be kissed by a man who already set her senses on overdrive. Under other circumstances she could have managed to enjoy having his mouth covering hers. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances.

‘I know you don’t want Rick to film you, but is this really necessary?’ she asked.

‘Unless you have a better idea.’

The soft wind of his breath in her mouth and the warm, compelling feel of his lips moving over her own made thinking clearly next to impossible. She allowed her eyes to close but it was a mistake, serving to focus her awareness even more closely on her rescuer and his effect on her. Her senses reeled. She tried to blame the shock of the accident but knew it wasn’t the whole explanation.

When she felt Luke relax, she opened her eyes cautiously, striving to sound more composed than she felt. ‘Do you think you put Rick off the idea of filming us?’

‘I was a bit too busy to notice, but I think so. A studio isn’t likely to use footage of somebody being resuscitated. A bit too graphic for the evening news.’

‘Let’s hope so,’ she said fervently.

‘In any case, our faces were well hidden, so you can relax. Your image is intact.’

And his privacy was assured, she thought. Well, the man had pulled her out of the wreckage, probably saving her life. If he didn’t want publicity, she wouldn’t force it on him. She owed him at least that much.

He sat back on his heels. ‘When your cameraman saw me working on you, he went to fetch the paramedics. You should let them check you over. Nothing seems to be broken but your colour’s high and your breathing is a bit shallow.’

She was tempted to laugh. The symptoms he described hadn’t been present until he’d started ‘resuscitating’ her. What was going on here? Maybe she was shocky from the accident after all. ‘You could be right,’ she agreed.

She closed her eyes again, trying to sort out her confused feelings. When she opened them a woman in ambulance uniform was bending over her. Luke was gone.

‘The man with me—did you see where he went?’ she asked tremulously as a sense of loss swept over her.

Her fingers resting on Sarah’s pulse, the paramedic frowned. ‘You mean your friend with the camera? He’s over with the rest of your people.’

Had she dreamed Luke’s presence? It seemed impossible that a complete stranger could have made such an impact on her in a few minutes. What had he done besides take care of her—and kiss her senseless in the guise of first aid?

A tremor shot through her and the paramedic looked concerned. ‘Are you cold?’

‘I’m fine, honestly,’ she repeated, for what seemed like the dozenth time.

She was still repeating it when Rick and the crew yielded to her request to be dropped off at a friend’s place on the Gold Coast. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘The ambulance people checked me over and everything’s working perfectly,’ she insisted. Everything except possibly her common sense. Why else was she so anxious to track down a man she’d never seen before today? Yet something drove her to try, even if it proved hopeless.

‘I’ll join you at the studio as soon as I take care of a personal problem,’ she promised, waving the crew away.

She stood outside her friend’s office, gathering her thoughts. If anyone could help her find out more about her mysterious, camera-shy rescuer, it was Kitty Sale. Kitty ran the most successful photo library on the coast and had supplied Sarah with more useful information than she could remember.

‘You realise he could be passing through? He may not even live in Australia,’ Kitty pointed out over herbal tea when Sarah had finished relating the afternoon’s adventure.

Sarah sighed. ‘I know. I have so little to go on. But I must find him and thank him for pulling me out of the car. He probably saved my life.’

Kitty regarded her shrewdly. ‘All you want to do is thank him?’

‘Well, maybe a bit more than that.’ She set the cup of chamomile tea down on a side-table. ‘All right, he intrigues me.’

Kitty’s eyebrow lifted. ‘Personally or professionally?’

Sarah hesitated. She’d been telling herself that her interest in Luke was professional, but in the instant she opened her mouth to tell Kitty so she knew it wasn’t the whole story. ‘Probably both.’

‘At least you’re honest. He sounds worth the effort—although your description could fit a dozen dark-haired hunks on the Gold Coast.’

‘All called Luke?’

‘If it’s his real name.’

Sarah pressed her fingers to her temples. Her head ached, thanks to the accident, making it hard to think clearly. Then she remembered something more. ‘His hair is unusual,’ she said, without opening her eyes. ‘He has a streak of silver at each temple.’

When she opened her eyes, Kitty was grinning. ‘Silver streaks, huh? Why didn’t you say so in the first place?’ She dived for her voluminous photo catalogues, shuffling through files until she located a brown envelope. With a flourish, she pulled out a glossy photo of a man in sleek black and gold racing leathers. ‘Is this him?’

Sarah’s heart missed a beat as she took the photo from Kitty. The midnight eyes seemed to lock with hers as she studied the craggy face above the leather outfit. It was Luke.

He cradled a full-face helmet in one arm and stood, with legs braced wide apart, alongside something that looked more like a silver bullet than a car. The power and purpose she’d sensed emanating from him suddenly clicked into place. Her throat dried. ‘Yes, it’s him.’

‘I knew it. As soon as you mentioned the silver streaks. They are . . . were . . . his trademark. He’s Luke Ansfield and those same streaks earned him the nickname “Lightning”. He used to be the top Formula One racing driver—five times world champion, if I recall correctly.’

Sarah resisted the urge to hold the photo close against herself, hardly daring to examine her motives. The man had saved her life. She shouldn’t read more into this than there was. All the same she heard herself ask Kitty, ‘Can I keep this for a while?’

Kitty nodded. ‘What are friends for? When you return it, make sure you put his phone number on the back.’

Something sharp stabbed Sarah, yet she had no claim on Luke Ansfield. She had no reason to react so strongly to Kitty’s suggestion. She made herself laugh. ‘What happened to Jeff, the one who jumps out of helicopters?’