‘No.’

‘Okay. Let’s get you out of the rain where I can take a look at you.’

‘I shouldn’t be here,’ she managed. ‘It’s really late.’ She stared blindly up at him and he thought he saw fear. Her eyes were wide and brown and shocked.

It was one in the morning. Maybe reassurance was the way to go.

‘Take a look around,’ he said gently, motioning to the jumble behind him-buckets and spades, Nathan’s tricycle, Martin’s pogo stick, the bundle of wet towels left from the day’s play. ‘I’m a dad as well as a doctor. My kids are asleep upstairs. You’re safe here.’

‘The dog…’

‘Even the dog’s safe with me,’ he said ruefully. ‘Safe, reliable Dr Spencer.’

She even managed a smile at that. ‘Don’t say it like you’d rather be a playboy,’ she whispered.

‘Leave my fantasies alone,’ he growled, and smiled back. ‘Now, Erin, don’t get your knickers in a knot but I’m going to carry you indoors. One, two, three, go.’ And before she could protest he swung her up into his arms.

She was older than twenty. She was every bit a woman, he thought as his arms held her close. Pushing thirty? Maybe. Now the worst of the mess was gone from her face he could see smile lines around her eyes. Or worry lines? Nope, smile lines, he thought. She had clear, brown eyes, nicely spaced. Her mouth was generous and her nose was decidedly cute.

That was hardly patient appraisal. He gave himself a swift mental swipe and carried her inside before she could find the strength to protest.

She did protest as he stepped over the dog in the hall.

‘The dog…’ she managed. ‘Put me down.’

‘I’ll attend to your dog as soon as I’ve attended to you.’ In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if the dog was on the way out. It hadn’t moved an inch since he’d set it down.

But that wasn’t his concern right now. Erin had been retching. He needed to check there wasn’t a ruptured spleen or something equally appalling going on inside. So he stepped over the limp dog with purpose and carried her into the living room.