Connor was about to say ‘No way’ but something in Bella’s gaze stopped the words emerging.
‘Please?’ Bella added. She twinkled at him, rather like the imitation diamonds in her tiara.
‘Fine,’ Connor growled reluctantly. ‘I’ll dance with the prisoner.’
‘Prisoner?’
‘That’s what her costume is, isn’t it?’
Bella laughed. ‘No! She’s being a pedestrian crossing.’
Connor was still grinning as he made his way to where Kate was still talking to Lewis. A pedestrian crossing. Smart. Different.
He liked that.
He extended a hand as he got closer. ‘May I have the pleasure...?’
Kate shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I don’t dance.’
No surprises there.
What was surprising was that Lewis Blackman made a growling sound that Connor could have easily produced himself.
‘Go on, Kate,’ Lewis urged. ‘Let your hair down for once.’
Connor wished she had done that in a far more literal sense. He’d seen that astonishing fall of silky black hair but it was all buttoned up again right now. Not in the usual braid she wore at work but kind of folded into a complicated knot thing at the back of her head. Something looked different about her, though... Her face looked softer.
Make-up?
No. She had ditched her glasses again, that’s what it was. He could see her eyes clearly. He saw the way they widened at Lewis’s rather abrupt instruction. He saw a cloud of, what...hurt? Embarrassment?
A hint of fear, even?
He could deal with that. He caught Kate’s hand and smiled.
‘How ’bout if I say please?’
* * *
How could anybody refuse an offer like that?
Kate could feel so many people watching her. She could sense the astonishment mixed with envy that was coming from all the women nearby.
Connor had gone the whole hog with a pirate costume. The wild wig with its braids and beads and a red bandanna. A flowing white shirt with its cuffs carelessly unbuttoned. More flowing white fabric as a sash that had a knife in a scabbard attached to it. Knee-high black boots. A heavy layer of eyeliner and the dusting of authentic designer stubble completed the look to perfection.
He looked every inch a pirate. Dark and dangerous and...quite simply devastatingly attractive.
And here he was, holding the hand of the person with the least imaginative costume here. All Kate had done had been to tack some strips of an old white sheet to the only formal dress she possessed, which was, of course, a classic black number.
Any woman in her right mind would jump at the chance to dance with Connor. They had been all evening. Kate knew that because, despite her very best intentions, she had found her gaze drawn to him time after time and he’d been with a different partner on every occasion. She had told herself she had just been waiting to see him dance with Bella but when he’d finally approached her niece, Bella had clearly refused. Bella was now being led onto the dance floor by someone dressed as Pinocchio but she caught Kate’s glance and waved. No. It was more like a signal that it was high time Kate joined in the fun.
Even Lewis was staring at her with a vaguely perplexed expression. He’d sounded almost exasperated in ordering her to go and dance and ‘let her hair down for once’.
For once? Did her boss think she needed to get a life as well?
Kate could have dealt with whatever negative impressions everyone around her had if she’d stuck to her guns and refused to make an idiot of herself on the dance floor. She had every intention of doing exactly that until the moment when Connor took her hand.
That smile.
It went with the expression in his eyes that said very clearly, I understand...you can trust me.
Feeling somewhat stunned, Kate allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor.
For probably the first time in her life, accepting the wish of a man and thereby relinquishing control didn’t feel like a personal threat.
It felt curiously like a gift.
* * *
Holding Kate in his arms on the dance floor felt exactly the way Connor would have expected it to feel.
It would have been much easier if the music had been a bit faster. He could have kept more of a distance between their bodies and given Kate a twirl or two and it might have been fun to shake her up a little. But here he was, dancing to quite a slow track with a woman he didn’t understand and didn’t even like.
Dr Graham was dancing here, trying to keep her steps and her posture perfect and avoid eye contact. It felt stilted and awkward.
There was only one way he could get through this, Connor decided. He closed his eyes, tugged Kate more firmly into his arms and let the music take over.
* * *
This was so hard it was unbearable.
Kate knew how to dance. Once upon a time, so far back in her life it was totally irrelevant now, she had loved letting go and allowing music to flow through her body. To drift with its current.
But it was impossible now. She couldn’t even hear the music because her senses were overloaded with the effort it was taking to distance herself from how it felt to be held in a man’s arms.
She could do this. She had done it, time and again. There was a place in her head she could go where she became kind of an observer of what was happening to her body. Good grief, she was capable of having sex with a man from the perspective of that place and she was quite confident her partner had not been aware of her emotional isolation.
So why couldn’t she get into it right now?
Her senses were overloaded. The warmth of Connor’s body. The way her clothing was offering no kind of protection and making it feel as if his hands were burning imprints into bare skin. The musky male smell of him. The easy, confident flow to the way he moved.
When Connor pulled her even closer, Kate shut her eyes and tried harder but, oddly, what happened was that she could hear the music now. Something about the way he was moving to it maybe. He had more than simply natural rhythm. There was a sensitivity to the way he moved that made it feel like he was channelling the music.
Something melted inside Kate that she hadn’t even known was frozen. Instead of the hold of those arms feeling like prison bars, it became a kind of force field. Something safe that begged her to relax into it. A combination of beautiful music and human touch that was pure pleasure.
And it was irresistible.
* * *
Connor felt the moment that Kate relaxed in his arms.
She could dance. He went from feeling he was hauling a concrete block around the dance floor to having something weightless in his arms. He could lose himself in the music and have every move followed as though he was dancing with his own shadow, and it was...amazing.
The track didn’t last nearly long enough. Connor didn’t want another dance partner tonight. He wanted to dance with Kate again. And again. He’d never felt that kind of connection with a woman before, on or off a dance floor.
Good grief...if she was like this to dance with, he couldn’t begin to imagine what she might be like in bed.
But whatever the astonishing connection had been, it ended when the music faded and the ending was harsh. As abrupt as a light switch being flicked off.
For a split second Kate had stayed as close to his body as it was possible to be in public, as though she hadn’t realised that the track had finished. But then she jerked back. She met his gaze for only a heartbeat but it was long enough for Connor to see the way she refocused and actually saw him.
The way her eyes darkened with unmistakeable fear.
Terror, even?
‘I...have to go.’ The words came out in a whisper.
And then she turned an
d all but fled from his side. She disappeared amongst the crowd of people and Connor was far too slow in trying to follow.
By the time he made it off the dance floor and went looking for her, Kate had apparently left the building.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT WAS not his problem.
OK. Someone, some time had obviously done a number on Kate Graham and made her afraid of men.
But it wasn’t him, dammit, so it had been totally undeserved to have her look at him like that. As if he was some kind of monster, for God’s sake, like a murderer or rapist.
Well, he wasn’t going to let it happen again. It had been easy enough to avoid her at work in the last few days since that fundraising fancy-dress ball. She didn’t have to work most weekends and he’d kept strictly to his expected areas of the hospital since then. His path had crossed with Bella’s up in the theatre suite but that hadn’t been a problem. He’d simply avoided talking to Kate’s niece as well. Apart from that he’d attended an outpatient clinic or two and spent the rest of his time in the wards.
He was heading for one of those wards right now to see thirteen-year-old Estelle Montgomery, who’d been admitted after breaking her leg very early that morning.
Tall for her age, Estelle had the tanned skin and bleached blonde hair of someone who spent more time on a beach than anywhere else. Her mother was also in the room and they were both flicking through a magazine. The pages seemed to be a feature on bikinis.
Nice. Connor stopped himself from making any appreciative sounds, however. Instead he smiled.
‘Hi. I’m Connor Matthews.’
‘Oh...’ The magazine slid from her hands and Estelle’s mother swallowed visibly. ‘You’re the orthopaedic surgeon Stella’s been admitted under.’
Connor nodded. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to say hello before this but I hope my registrar and the rest of the staff have been looking after you well?’
It was Estelle who nodded. ‘Everyone’s been cool. I asked if I could get a proper cast on and go home but they said I had to wait for you to come and see me.’ She glanced towards the window of her room. ‘It’s a great day. I know it’ll be a few weeks before I can get wet but if I got out now and didn’t have to go to school, I could at least go and watch the others.’ Her chin wobbled slightly as she looked at her mother. ‘Couldn’t I? You wouldn’t mind an hour or two on the beach, would you, Mum? Shane’s practising for the competition next weekend and...’
Her mother’s smile was strained. ‘Let’s see what Dr Matthews has to say first, Stella.’
Connor was looking at the long, tanned leg, which had been left free of the bed cover. Cradled in a plaster shell, the malformation of the fracture was clearly visible halfway down the shin.
‘How’s the pain?’
Estelle shrugged. ‘It’s fine if I don’t move.’
Her mother sighed. ‘She doesn’t admit to anything that might stop her getting near the sea. She dislocated her elbow a couple of years ago and still went back to catch another wave.’
Connor smiled at Estelle. ‘Surfing, huh?’
Estelle’s face lit up. ‘I won the thirteen and under section that year. That’s why I was up so early today. The waves are always good at dawn and I’m practising for this year’s competition.’
‘Wow.’ Connor shook his head. ‘The longest I’ve managed to stay upright on a surfboard was about ten seconds.’
‘It just takes practice. And good balance. Learning to dance helps. I started when I was about three and I still do classes whenever I can. Can you dance?’
‘Stella!’ Her mother sounded shocked. ‘You can’t ask Dr Matthews that sort of thing.’
Connor grinned. ‘Of course she can. And, yes, I like dancing.’
He’d always liked dancing but it hit him suddenly that he might not like it as much from now on. The way he’d felt dancing with Kate had been like nothing he’d ever experienced before and he had this curious certainty that he never would again.
The way she’d felt in his arms.
That connection.
The sheer power of something sensual that was so big Connor couldn’t recognise it. So alluring he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. He’d tried to tell himself he’d imagined it but what if he hadn’t?
What if there was something he hadn’t known was missing from his life because he hadn’t even known it existed?
And what if it only existed because the other half of the equation had been Kate?
Connor actually shook his head again to clear the fleeting distraction. Estelle’s mother noticed the subtle movement and drew in an audible breath.
‘There’s something wrong, isn’t there? That’s why Stella couldn’t just get plaster on her leg and go home?’
Connor had been planning on introducing himself, examining Estelle and then taking her mother somewhere for a private conversation. Both mother and daughter were staring at him now and then they looked at each other.
‘I don’t want you talking behind my back,’ Estelle said firmly. ‘It’s my leg and I want to know what’s wrong with it.’
Her mother caught Connor’s gaze. ‘Stella’s thirteen, going on thirty,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘There’s no point hiding anything. And it’s just the two of us. Stella’s dad died when she was a baby.’
With a slow nod Connor took an X-ray from the folder he was carrying. He held it up so that the light from the window shone through it.
‘You know you’ve broken your tibia, which is the bigger of the two bones in your lower leg. The fracture itself isn’t that serious, although it’s bad enough to need a pin to stabilise it. What worried the doctors in the emergency department initially was that it hadn’t been caused by any trauma. You were just climbing some steps, yes?’
Estelle nodded. ‘I heard it snap. It was really gross.’
‘You hadn’t had a knock from your surfboard or anything before that?’
‘No.’
‘It’s not brittle bones or something, is it?’ her mother asked. ‘It can’t be, surely. She gets knocked all the time. That surfboard is bigger than she is and she goes out in some wild waves sometimes.’
‘For a bone to break without trauma being involved means there’s something wrong,’ Connor agreed. ‘And when this X-ray was taken it showed a mass in the tibia. Can you see the way the line of the bone isn’t straight on the edge there? And how much wider the whole bone is in that spot than above and below it?’
‘A...mass?’ The word from Estelle’s mother was a horrified whisper.
‘What’s a mass?’ Estelle queried. She was staring at her mother. ‘Oh, my God...you mean, like...cancer?’
Connor’s heart sank at the fear in their voices but he couldn’t be any less than honest. ‘A mass is when cells are growing and dividing in a manner that isn’t normal. A collection of abnormal cells like this is called a tumour. We don’t know yet whether the tumour is benign or cancerous. Given your history, Estelle, and what we know of your general state of health so far, the chances are very good that this tumour is benign.’
‘You’ll do a biopsy, right?’ Estelle was nodding. ‘I’ve seen it on telly.’
‘We’ll certainly do a biopsy and find out exactly what we’re dealing with. Because you already need surgery to pin the fracture, that’s when we’ll do the biopsy. I’m going to send you for an MRI first, though.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s an advanced test that can show better detail of not only the bone but all the soft tissue around it, including tendons and nerves and muscles and things. It can show us whether this tumour is confined to the bone.’ Connor paused for a moment, letting the implications sink in. ‘Normally, we’d do a biopsy and if we didn’t like the kind of cells we found we’d look at a course of chemothe
rapy or radiotherapy to shrink the tumour before surgery. Depending on what we find, the better course of action may be to remove the tumour during surgery and use chemo later if it’s necessary.’
‘How much of the bone do you have to remove?’ Estelle’s mother asked quietly.
‘That will depend on what we find. If it’s benign, only enough to allow your leg to continue growing as normally as possible. If it’s cancerous, it will depend on both the type of cancer and whether it’s spread.’ Connor didn’t want to go into details about the more aggressive types of bone cancer unless he had to when the diagnosis was confirmed. He gave Estelle’s mother a steady glance. ‘I know it’s a big ask but right now the consent form you need to sign allows me to take what I consider the best course of action depending on what we find during surgery.’
Estelle was gripping a fold of her sheet in her hands. ‘I thought I was just going to have to stop surfing for a few weeks and that I’d have crutches and a cast that the kids at school could write stuff on. That was bad enough but I could deal with it.’ The fold of sheet twisted in her hands and she gave a huge sniff. ‘I’m scared, Mum...’ she sobbed. ‘I’d rather die than have my leg cut off.’
‘Don’t say that.’ The older woman was close to tears herself now as she reached to hold her daughter in her arms.
Connor couldn’t deny that amputation was a possibility and it was something they needed to talk about. He had a dozen things to get sorted before slotting this emergency case into his surgery schedule for the day but there was no way he could leave until he had provided enough reassurance to reduce some of his patient’s fear. The possibility was extremely remote that Estelle would have to lose her leg but if that was what it would take to save her life, that was what Connor would have to do. He perched a hip on the end of the bed and settled in to talk for as long as it was going to take. At least it was still early in the day. Some people wouldn’t have even started work yet. People who had cushy jobs, maybe.
Like pathologists?
A nurse poked her head around the door but Connor sent her away with a glance. He could keep an eye on whatever needed monitoring, like the circulation in Estelle’s foot. Reaching out, he touched the skin. It was a bit cool but his fingers found a strong pulse on the top of her foot and he kept them there for a few moments to check her heart rate.
The Legendary Playboy Surgeon Page 5