And if Niall Mountmarche could give the anaesthetic then the dog had a chance!

‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘If we carry him together then we can move him with little jolting to the pad.’

Niall’s smile had faded once more, gone as if it had never been. ‘I don’t like strangers at my house,’ he said shortly, and Jessie flinched at the coldness of his words.

Back cometh the ogre…

‘I thought I introduced myself,’ she made herself say, replacing his smile with one of her own. ‘That makes me not a stranger, Dr Niall Mountmarche.’

She was fighting here. For Harry…

For a moment she expected a stinging rebuff. He wanted to give her one-she could tell.

Then Niall looked down again at the dog in Jessie’s arms and his look softened. If he was fighting a war then he was losing. Somewhere inside was a soft core.

‘I guess you’re not,’ he said slowly and in his voice was a small note of discovery. ‘Well, Dr Harvey. If you’re not a stranger then I suggest you act like a medical colleague. And we’ve got a job to do. So let’s get on with it.’

He stooped and took the dog from her as though the creature was weightless and, as Jessie supported the trapped pad, Niall swung Harry gently up to lie cradled against his body.

The impression of a man of compassion was stirring and beginning to grow. Jessie looked up at man and dog-and there was something else stirring within that she didn’t want to think about.

Niall Mountmarche met her look and his eyes widened.

It was as if he’d read her thoughts.

As if there was some sort of communication channel between them that needed no words. That was beyond words…