Nadia took a step so her body was flush against his. Their hands squashed between his chest and hers. Someone groaned. Was it her or Mitch? What did it matter, she wanted this moment. She angled her head, opening her mouth so they could deepen their kiss.
Lost in Mitch’s touch, Nadia was unaware that the rain had gone from a light mist to large drops. The wind had picked up and behind her closed eyes she saw a flash and a second later a loud boom of thunder broke the tranquility of the night.
Mitch broke off the kiss and shoved her away. “Fuck, did you kiss me again?”
Disoriented at the abrupt motion it took a full ten seconds for his words to penetrate her mind. Anger steamrolled into her, but she let the wave flow through and out her fingertips. Fighting his anger with her anger wouldn’t solve anything. “No, actually,” she said casually. “You kissed me. Where are we Mitch?”
“What? I wouldn’t have kissed you and we’re standing in the rain in a middle of a field in Hu…” Realization struck him that second. “Dammit, not again.”
“Yeah, again.” Another crash sounded, followed by a couple of screams and Nadia whirled around to see if she could make out what had happened. With dealing with Mitch’s PTSD attack, the drama of the tornado had been shoved to the side. “We can talk later, we need to help.”
Mitch shook his head. “I can’t go back there, I’m not safe.”
Nadia reached out and grabbed his hands. It would be so easy to continue on being annoyed with the way he’d accused her of kissing him, but now wasn’t the time. “Find Gene or one of theother guys. Deal with clearing downed trees or something. But you are safe and your help is needed.”
Exhaustion slammed into her faster than the can falling on her head in the pantry and she swayed a little. Mitch’s strong hands clasped her arms, steadying her. The pounding in her head and the ache in her ribs, became more prominent again, as if subconsciously, she’d pushed it aside to deal with Mitch’s issues. Now that they were over, her body reminded her she too had suffered injuries.
All she needed was a minute. Just a minute to get herself centered and then she could go and help. Yet her body was rebelling and had different ideas. She closed her eyes and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. Her legs turned to jelly and if Mitch still hadn’t been holding her, she was sure she’d collapse to the ground.
A wave of nausea had her stomach rolling and she swallowed hard. The last thing she wanted to do was throw up. “I don’t feel so good,” she mumbled before yanking herself out of Mitch’s hold to bend over and emptied the contents of her stomach on the ground.
Wonderful.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Shit!”Mitch side stepped so he wasn’t in the splash zone. Nadia throwing up wasn’t a good sign. She’d taken a severe hit to the head and instead of taking it easy and having someone look at her, she’d soldiered on and dealt with Buck and the other couple trapped with her.
“I really don’t feel well, Mitch,” she whispered before she swayed again. This time he caught her and swept her up in his arms, holding her tight against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she burrowed down against his chest.
For a few heartbeats Mitch stood still, savoring the feel of her in his arms. How quickly things change. A few minutes ago, he’d been lost in another PTSD attack and now he was aware of his surroundings. Aware he had a very sick Nadia in his arms. He needed to take care of her.
“Come on, Boston. Let’s get you looked at. I’m pretty sure you’ve got a concussion. You need to be resting not working.”
“I’m fine. Let me just rest my eyes a moment and then I can get back to helping people.”
Sleeping was the worst thing a concussed patient could do. “No. Let me say it again, in case you missed it the first time.You’re exhibiting signs of a concussion. You can’t fall asleep. You know that.”
Mitch strode across the field, his large steps eating up the distance. He couldn’t believe how far he’d walked while lost in his mind again. A flash of calling NadiaBoston, while he’d been in the clutches of his attack, worked its way into his thoughts. Perhaps he hadn’t been totally out of it. That would be a first, though. Whenever he’d had his attacks, he’d never been able to recall anything from them. All he recalled was when he became aware of his surroundings again, nine times out of ten he wasn’t standing where he last remembered being.
He wanted to stop and concentrate his thoughts inward to see if he could remember more of the attack he’d just experienced, but he couldn’t. Nadia needed looking after first.
“I’m so tired, Mitch. My head hurts. My ribs ache. And I think I’m going to throw up again,” Nadia moaned.
Mitch had her feet on the ground before she finished speaking and Nadia again bent over and threw up. There wasn’t a lot that could come out but throwing up twice within the space of ten minutes ratcheted up his anxiety about the seriousness of her head injury. She’d also mentioned sore ribs too. That would explain the way she’d been holding her side and wincing every now and then when she breathed in.
Once she finished retching, he picked her up again. They were getting closer to the flashing lights of the first responder vehicles. Somehow while he’d been working to get the others in the pantry free and working on Cerise, his radio had slipped out of his pocket. Normally he clipped it on, but tonight, for some reason, he just shoved it in his pocket. Rookie mistake and one that he regretted, because if he’d had his radio he could’ve notified Gene that he needed an ambulance ASAP.
But no point lamenting what he didn’t have. He was close and Nadia would get the help she needed. He would make sure of it.
Two hours later, Mitch poked his head into the darkened room where Nadia lay. She was sleeping, but a nurse was in the room with her, checking her vitals and prodding her awake.
“Time to wake up Dr. Fletcher.” She waved a pen light over her face and Nadia’s hand came up, swatting at it as if it was an annoying fly.
“Let me sleep,” she grumbled and Mitch chuckled.
The nurse looked over her shoulder and grinned. Nadia’s reaction was probably the same every time the nurse handled a concussed patient. “You’ve got a visitor, Dr. Fletcher, so that’s another reason to wake up.”
“My family wouldn’t visit. They live too far away.”
