He named some of the small towns they’d be passing through and added some local history, taking her mind off what she deemed an affront. Relaxing as she reciprocated with insightful questions about the hotel, they were soon chatting without any of the earlier tension.
Miffed that she avoided all but the most inane questions about herself, he appeased his disappointment by reasoning any conversation was establishing a bond. Not quite the bond he sought, but there was time to build on that.
He was highlighting his intended programme for the afternoon when the van jerked and threw Debra against him. Angry horns bleared as a passing car squeezed in front of the van and almost collected another coming around a blind corner.
Jase wrapped his arms around her as their driver struggled for control of the braking van. Forcing Debra’s face into his shoulder Jase covered her head with his hand, bending over her and praying like he’d never prayed before. Instead of the scrunch of ripping metal, or the flip he was bracing himself for, the vehicle shuddered to a screeching stop in the loose gravel alongside the road.
“Are you okay?” He tore off his seatbelt and gently lifted her head. Tremors flooded her body but she gave a shaky nod.
“What happened?”
Jase swore. “Some idiot overtook us on a blind corner and almost took out a car travelling south.” He smoothed his hand over her head, searching for signs of hurt or discomfort. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” Her unsteady smile strengthened to reassure him. “I might just stretch my legs for a minute though, seeing we’re having a break.”
“Good idea,” Jase agreed. He couldn’t resist drawing her back into his arms to hold tight for just a second. His lips lingered across the top of her head. But before she could complain, he slipped past her out of the van. “I’ll just have a word with Chris. He looks a bit shook up.”
The young driver hung over the farm fence, looking decidedly yellow. Jase slung an arm across his shaking shoulders. “You okay there, mate? You did a great job. How you managed to stop the van without using this fence as a brake, I’ll never know.”
The younger man’s back straightened at the praise. He turned to glare along the road. “Bloody idiot, he’s gonna kill someone.”
“Let’s just hope it’s himself and no-one else,” Jase agreed. “You feel okay to keep driving? I can take over if you’re feeling a bit shaky.”
“I’m okay, boss. My dad always said when you fall off your bike, get right back on again.” Chris summoned up a wobbly smile. “I guess this isn’t too different.”
“I guess it isn’t.”
“Is it okay if I grab a smoke though? Seeing as we’re stopped.”
“Sure buddy, take your time.”
Shaking hands extracted a packet of cigarettes from Chris’ pocket. “Couple of minutes, boss, then we’ll be on our way again.”
Jase patted the young man’s shoulder and turned to see Debra watching them. He strolled back to the van.
“You really care about people, don’t you? Especially your staff.”
Jase frowned. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Debra’s laugh was hollow. “Not in my experience.”
“Then you’ve been working for the wrong people.”
From Debra’s deep frown Jase could see his words had hit some chord. “Have you found any dissension while you’ve been with us?”
Debra’s astonished look and splutter drew an answering smile. “Yeah, well, the manager’s a Jafa.” He used the derogatory term often applied to residents of New Zealand’s biggest city by those who didn’t live there. “That makes her an exception.”
His face darkened at his lack of discretion, something he was always strict about maintaining. He swallowed. “For God’s sake, don’t ever mention I said that.”
Warmed by her very genuine smile Jase forgot their near accident. Forgot the purpose of their trip, forgot everything but how great he felt in her company. His gaze roamed over her, eventually settling at the pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat.
His arm touched her, drew her close. She swayed forward, and he hoped she was incapable of denying the lure of desire growing between them.
Blood roared in his ears, deafening him to any sound other than their hearts thumping in unison. His head dipped but just as his lips were about to meet the sweetest honey pot, Debra jerked her head aside and took a hasty step backward.
A door slammed. Chris had finished his cigarette and was ready to resume their journey. Staring out across the lush farmland Jase took some deep breaths, ignoring Debra’s scramble back into her seat.
His head flung back, he sucked in even more deep breaths, trying to return his body, and his mind, to some semblance of order. Finally he climbed back into the van, slamming the sliding door shut with far more force than was necessary.
Reclaiming his seat he called to the driver, “You sure you’re okay to drive, Chris?”
“I’m fine, boss, I’ve had my nicotine fix.”
As the van eased back onto the road Jase daringly reached for Debra’s hand and held it on his thigh. Not too high, he didn’t want to be that obvious, although if she kept tugging and wriggling their grasp might travel to the source of his discomfort. As if she realised this possibility too, Debra stopped struggling.
Although her hand remained rigid, Jase dared to stroke his thumb across her knuckles as he leaned back and closed his eyes. A smile played around his lips as he imagined what expression she might be wearing. He could dream it was as besotted as he felt, although he guessed she was more likely spitting at his audacity.
Was it wishful thinking on his part that Debra’s touch on his leg had lightened? He even sensed slight movement of her fingers, exploring movement, caressing movement.
His heart sang. She wasn’t only not pushing him away, she was responding. Lost in a sensuous world built for two, Jase’s flight of fancy was torn from him when the vehicle braked sharply.
“Bloody hell!” Chris jerked to a stop on the grass verge and jumped out, his cell phone already in his hand.
Jase and Debra had their seatbelts undone and followed him as he ran across to where two vehicles rocked together in a mangled mess of steel. Shocked and bleeding passengers were spilling out of, and milling about, what had been a minibus.
“There’s no reception, boss.” With arm extended high in the air Chris urgently twisted his phone around searching for a signal.
“Try your phone,” Jase shouted at Debra as he ascertained who needed help first.
“Nothing,” Debra replied desperately.
“Chris, drive back until you can get a signal—or you see a farmhouse. It’ll take a while for emergency services to reach here. We’ll do what we can until they do.”
“That’s the bastard who almost ran us off the road,” Chris indicated the second vehicle before he ran and jumped into the van, u-turned, and disappeared around the corner.
“I’ll organise the walking wounded.” Debra ran forward demanding, “Does anyone have medical training? First aid ability?”
A lone man stepped forward, wiping at blood dripping from a cut on his forehead, advising with a very broad eastern European accent that he was a soldier. Debra urged him toward Jase, who tried to access those still trapped inside both vehicles.
“Who else isn’t hurt,” Debra shouted. “We need someone at each side of the accident to warn traffic. Quick, a vehicle could come around these corners any minute. We have to stop anything further happening.”
The sound of her voice above the hysteria—checking for injuries, ordering people around, issuing instructions to help others less able—echoed in Jase’s ears as he began the gruesome task of seeing to the injured.
“He’s dead.” The certainty in the soldier’s voice and his grim expression as he turned from the mangled car convinced Jase of his ability to judge.
The driver of the car, and undoubtedly the cause of the accident in Jase’s eyes, drew little sympathy right now. Not when there were two other people trapped and in what appeared to be a serious condition because of his actions.
Jase and his soldier helper carefully manoeuvred a woman from the minibus’s front seat. Conscious, she’d been able to reassure them as to her injuries, which appeared to be confined to cuts and lacerations along with a probable broken arm or collarbone. A young Japanese woman rushed to comfort her as they lay her on a coat thrown on the grass.
“Everyone else is okay. Shocked but okay,” Debra reported, joining the two men as they hurried to the driver of the mini-bus. “They’re tending each other’s cuts with the first-aid kit Chris threw out before he took off.” She glanced toward the victim on the grass. “She appears okay. Her daughter’s looking after her.”
“This door is jammed tight.” Jase gave an ineffectual thump against the twisted metal. “We’ll have to try getting to him from inside.” He surveyed the wreck with a frustrated frown. He spoke through the window space to where his helper was checking the injured man’s condition in a professional manner from behind the driving seat. “What do you think? Can we move him?” The metal was twisted and buckled to such an extent Jase couldn’t see what they could do for the unconscious man.
The soldier pushed the airbag aside as he tried to ascertain the extent of the driver’s injuries. “His breathing is okay, pulse not so good. Maybe he’s bleeding?”
“He’s taken a fair clout on his head.” Jase could already see swelling beneath a bloody cut across the side of his head.
“It’s more than that.” The man jumped from the back and rounded the minibus to drag the deflated airbag through the broken windscreen. Jase joined him.
“I’ll squeeze in where the passenger was,” Debra said. “At least I should be able to see if there’s any excessive bleeding.”
“No.” Jase grabbed her arm. “It’s too dangerous.” The soldier had already dragged the passenger airbag out of the way to make room for Debra to enter the wreckage.
“We can’t just sit by until help arrives.”
Jase was loath to allow Debra to crawl into that twisted space. The chassis could shift, or the minibus might catch fire. “I’ll do it.”
Debra’s eyebrows rose and she stood for seconds staring at him. Finally he shrugged and let go of her arm. His heart thudded in his throat as she wriggled through the twisted metal. “I can’t see any blood, but I can’t see his legs. Hold on.” She wriggled some more. He watched her inch forward until her head and shoulders were under the dashboard and out of his sight.
“Jase,” she called. “There’s bleeding from one leg.” She wriggled some more. “Oh God, Jase,” her voice was muffled. “There’s blood everywhere. I can’t see if the blood is pulsating out or just oozing. We have to do something, quickly.”
Jase threw his jacket aside and tore off his shirt, rolling it up so he could ram it through a little gap under her arm. Relief surged through him as vehicles sounded behind him. “Chris?” he yelled. “Have we got a torch? Debbie can’t see.”
“Door’s jammed tight,” he muttered as a farmer following Chris arrived at his side. “We’ve just discovered blood, not sure how much but enough to be concerned about.”
“Fire brigade and ambulance will be about forty minutes, they reckoned. I got a crowbar in the truck.”
Jase positioned the beam of torch light toward the driver’s legs, hoping it allowed Debra better vision.
The chassis wobbled as she wriggled. “I’m going to need to apply pressure somehow.” She wriggled again. The breath caught in Jase’s throat as her butt and legs were all that were now visible.
“We’re trying to get the door open, Debbie.” He yelled to one of the uninjured passengers to come and hold the torch. He joined the farmer thrusting the crowbar into the mangled door frame. “Be careful the whole bloody thing doesn’t collapse.”
“No worries, mate. It’s not going anywhere.” The screech of metal clawed at him.
Valuable minutes were lost inching the door away from its frame. With Jase and the soldier tugging each time the crowbar was repositioned around the frame and Chris shoving from behind the driver’s seat with the tyre jam they slowly allowed light into the cavity where the man’s legs and Debbie’s head lay. Despite the winter chill Jase’s bare torso ran with sweat as he spied Debra’s suspended body and the awkward way she asserted pressure on the driver’s leg.
“I’m not holding this tight enough,” she reported urgently. “He’s still bleeding. Help me.”
A folded T-shirt was thrust over Jase’s shoulder as he knelt in the doorway. “I have your tie and my belt,” accented words accompanied the gesture. “Tell your lady to use extra to pad the wound. Can you tie it in place?”
Jase pressed the cloth toward Debra, holding his breath at her awkward fumbling to position it on top of the bloodied shirt already in place. With her help he was able to stretch in and clumsily secure the pads. They held their collective breaths until Debra called, “I think that’s better. At least it’s not gushing anymore.”
“Get out of there, then.”
The wriggles she made came to an abrupt halt. “I think I’m stuck.”
“What do you mean, you’re stuck?” Jase peered at the angle of her body and the obstacles that could be impeding her escape. Leaving the solider and the farmer to debate whether it was advisable to try moving the driver before professional help arrived, he tore around to the passenger door. Debra had been terrified in the lift. This incarceration would be so much worse. Sweat broke out. He had to free her.