Raising the Stakes

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She nodded. Big mistake. The merry-go-round took another spin. “Bottle of water,” she whispered.

He was back a few seconds later. “Drink,” he ordered.

He put the bottle to her lips and she clutched it, drank greedily, gulping down the warm, life-giving fluid, feeling it spill over her chin. When the last drop trickled down her throat, she lifted her head and looked at the man standing over her. His hands were propped on his hips and he was slit-eyed with hostility.

She could deal with hostility.

“I’m okay now.”

Her jerked his head in what she assumed was assent.

“Thank you.”

He jerked his head again. Apparently he’d run out of names to call her. Without a word, he walked to his car. She heard a door slam, followed by the sound of the engine starting. Good. Her Bad Samaritan was leaving—but he’d forgotten whatever he’d draped over her. Dawn reached up, felt the softness of cotton. A shirt? A sweater?

“Leave it on.”

She looked up, startled. He was back.

“I checked my trunk.” Just for a moment, his mouth curved in what might have been the first stages of a smile. “Turns out there were no flares in it, either. You sure you’re okay?”

Dawn nodded. The world had stopped spinning. “It was just the heat.”

“And the sight of me coming at you at a million miles an hour.”

The sight of you coming at me in a rage, she thought, and hated herself for discovering that she hadn’t gotten past that. He smiled, and she forced herself to smile in return as she rose to her feet. He reached out a hand but she pretended not to see it.

“Okay,” he said, “here’s the deal. You go sit in my car while I move yours to the curb.”

“No. That’s all right. I’ll—I’ll—” She widened her smile and told the lie with aplomb. “I’ll phone and have it towed.”

“Good.” He reached into his pocket, took out a cell phone and handed it to her. “Make the call. I’ll move the car.”

Dawn stared at him blankly. There was no reason to tell him she couldn’t afford to have her car towed, not until she figured out her current finances or borrowed some money from Cassie. “Actually…” She cleared her throat, smiled brightly and returned the phone to him. “Actually it’ll be simpler if I get to my office and call from there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She took a breath and went for broke. “But if you could help me move the car, maybe just up to that side street…”

He sighed. “Yeah. No problem.”

Dawn could tell he was just being polite but really, what choice did she have? She couldn’t leave the car where it was. Moving it away from the No Standing/No Parking/No Doing Anything signs that bristled like metal tree stumps along the boulevard would be a big help.

“Great.” She pulled off the garment he’d put around her shoulders—it was a navy sweatshirt, faded and frayed—smiled and held it toward him. Her lips hurt from all the smiling. What was there to smile about, when your car was dead and you were at least a two hours’ walk from the office that was certainly not going to be yours by the time you finally put in an appearance? None of that was the stranger’s problem. She was just lucky he’d agreed to help her when nobody else had.

“You sure you don’t need it?”

“I’m fine.” Another smile. God, her lips were going to stick to her teeth. “I’ll take the right side.”

“The right…” He smiled and shook his head. “You just hop into the car and steer. I’ll push.”

“By yourself? But—”

“Steer, or you’re on your own. No more saving you from passing out. When the weather’s hot, I have a one a day limit on rescuing swooning damsels.”

He really was being pleasant. This time, her smile was real. “Well,” she said, “I guess I don’t have a choice.”