Sierra noted the vital signs as she gazed down at the man lying on the gurney, strapped to a backboard and wearing a cervical collar. Bruises were already forming on his visible extremities and lacerations from broken glass crisscrossed his face. An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth, but his nose was swollen and clearly broken, which meant they’d need an airway.

“Let’s go,” Trey ordered, and off they scurried to the nearest available trauma room.

“He’s wearing a MedicAlert bracelet,” the other paramedic reported. “According to the company records, he’s a diabetic and he’s currently taking Coumadin, hydrochlorothiazide and something called liraglutide.”

The blood-pressure medicine wasn’t unusual for someone his age, but the blood thinner was. “Has he had a recent heart attack or stroke?”

“We don’t know, but his left knee has a freshly healing scar. Maybe a recent joint replacement? The police are trying to locate his next of kin.”

“Any record of insulin?”

The paramedic shook his head. “None.”

“What was that last drug you’d mentioned?” Trey asked, his brow furrowed as if trying to place the medication.

“Liraglutide,” the paramedic repeated.

Trey turned to one of the nurses. “Call the Pharmacy and ask—”

“Don’t bother,” Sierra interrupted. “It’s a new drug just approved by the FDA for treating type 2 Diabetes.”

“Oh.”

Trey’s dark-eyed gaze met hers over the gurney and she read his unasked question. “I had a patient who had trouble controlling his diabetes, so we tried it. It’s not the first line of therapy and has a number of side effects, but in his case it was a last-ditch resort and it worked,” she explained.

He grinned, and the most endearing dimple appeared in the side of his cheek. “Your first official day and you’re already handy to have around.”

Strangely enough, her face warmed under his appreciative comment. Sierra McAllaster did not respond to empty flattery with a blush, she reminded herself. Thanks to her husband, who’d liberally used his charm to his own advantage, she’d eventually determined it was merely a tool to get what he wanted. The lesson had been painful to learn as her illusions had been shattered, but she’d never forget it. Never again would she fall for a fellow who troweled on charm as easily as a brickmason laid his cement. She’d become immune to men like him.

However, immunized or not, it seemed rude to refuse to return his smile so she did, even though she didn’t know why she was smiling in the first place.

A few seconds later, they’d pushed the gurney against the awaiting bed in the trauma room. Sierra locked the wheels in place with the toe of one pump, having already decided she’d overdressed for the demands of this department. She’d forgotten the frantic pace—or maybe she’d simply blocked it out of her mind—which meant a dress and heels weren’t her most practical choice of attire.

“Lift on three,” Trey ordered. “One, two, three.”

Everyone complied in one smooth, well-rehearsed motion to move their patient to his new bed. Sierra hoped any residual blush on her face could be attributed to the strain and not Trey’s flattering comment.

“Can you hear me, Mr. Klein?” Trey spoke to the fellow. “You’re in the hospital and we’re going to take care of you.”

Unable to nod because his head and neck were immobilized, he simply blinked and mouthed, “Okay.”

Sierra hung around and helped the nurses organize the patient’s tubes and swap the paramedics’ equipment for hospital-issue while Trey issued orders for X-rays and lab work, requesting the same procedures Sierra would have if she’d been in charge of this case.

His next command caught her by surprise. “Go to lunch, Sierra.”

She paused. “You don’t need help?”

He shook his head and flashed his trademark grin. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

Yes, he was, she thought as she moved out of the way, somewhat reluctant to leave just yet. Instead, she took a few minutes to observe her colleague in action.

Today might be her first official day in Emergency, but it wasn’t the first day she’d worked with Trey. In her previous position as hospitalist on the fifth-floor medical unit, she’d received several patients he’d admitted and had answered his call for a consultant on numerous occasions. His medical skills then, like now, seemed outstanding.

He spoke with a calm authority that sent staff scrambling to obey, but she could tell they did so out of a desire to please rather than a sense of fear. Then again, who wouldn’t want to do whatever he asked if it meant receiving one of his killer smiles? She’d seen how his grin had turned even the most independent, career-minded woman into the equivalent of a simpering teenager.

He was also more than just a handsomely wolfish smile. His long eyelashes were partly to blame for his appeal to women, she decided. Add dark brown hair and midnight-blue eyes, a firm jaw and an attractive dimple, and infatuation was a given.