‘No.’

‘But…’ Leaving her hand resting on his head-he’d need touch, she knew-she rose and sat back on her heels and stared blankly down at him. ‘But…why not?’

‘Because we’re in the middle of nowhere.’ Stupid, he might have added, but he didn’t. ‘Why do you think I run out here?’

‘Because you’re stupid?’ Lizzie whispered, trying to disguise her overwhelming sensation of sick dismay. No reception. Help!

‘A man has to have peace some time.’

‘Yeah, well, it should be really peaceful in hospital,’ she snapped. This was a crazy conversation. He was lying face down in the road; she didn’t even know what was wrong with him yet, and he was giving her cheek?

‘Who said anything about hospital?’

‘I did.’ Her voice was starting to sound a bit desperate. She was feeling more out of control by the minute. ‘That’s where you’re going.’ She took a deep breath, searching for control. ‘Now shut up while I examine you. And stay still!’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Silence. More silence. Lizzie started running her fingers over his body, searching for any lumps or bumps or obvious contusions. She could still only see his back but she was reluctant to roll him over. For a start that leg would hurt like hell. Second, if he’d hurt his back or his neck…

‘I can wiggle my fingers and my left toes,’ he told her. ‘I’m not game to try my right toes.’

‘I don’t blame you. You’ve got a horrible break. I just had to straighten it to get circulation back.’

‘Circulation…’ He stirred and she placed a warning hand on his shoulder. ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘Lizzie Darling.’ Her hands kept moving. One good thing about the scanty clothes he was wearing, her examination wasn’t impeded. She put her hands under him and felt his ribs. His chest was broad and muscled and the ribs didn’t seem damaged at all.

‘Lizzie Darling.’ He sounded bemused. ‘Darling. As in not Lizzie Sweetheart but Lizzie Darling, daughter of Mr and Mrs Darling? Or wife of Mr Darling?’