And it might work against her, anyway. If Blake wanted to ignore her and pretend that it had never happened, he might be inclined to keep her out of the team just to underline the fact that it had meant nothing to him. That she meant nothing to him...
She could wait. Until it was no more than a memory for her, as well.
She needed to take a leaf out of Blake’s book, that was all. If he could simply enjoy a night of the most incredible sex ever and then walk away as if it had never happened, then so could she.
And that might impress him just as much as proving herself clinically capable or acing a test and practical exercise in a completely different arena.
What was it they said? Fake it till you make it?
She was coping pretty well so far, given that Harriet didn’t seem the least bit suspicious. Surely Blake must be just as convinced already. Who knew that those drama classes at high school would end up actually being rather useful?
‘I will apply,’ she told Harriet. ‘But, for now, I’ll just let Blake think about how well I did in that course.’
And about what had happened afterwards?
Surely he thought about that occasionally? Unless sex for him was always that mind blowing and she hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary as far as he was concerned?
She dropped the last part of her sandwich back into the container. Her appetite had vanished.
I’ll know when to pick the right time,’ she told Harriet. ‘Now...tell me about your weekend. What did you and Pete get up to? Some surfing? A fun run or something? Or were you both working?’
* * *
It was inevitable that they would end up having to work closely together.
At least he’d had more than a week to prepare for it but Blake hadn’t expected to have to be quite this close. The department was stretched and the trauma team was already fully occupied with three victims from a motorway pile-up when another trauma case got wheeled through the ambulance bay doors. He was the consultant who stepped out from the resuscitation bays to assess the new arrival.
And Sam was the nurse standing beside the bed in the treatment room. She was arranging pillows to support the heavily bandaged arm and hand of a middle-aged man.
At least the paramedics were still here, packing up their gear.
‘This is Stuart,’ one of them told him. ‘Fifty-eight years old. He got his arm caught in a conveyor belt at the factory he works in. De-gloving injury to his forearm and hand. Possible fracture. We’ve just covered it in sterile dressings and splinted it.’
The subtle shake of the paramedic’s head warned Blake that the injury was severe.
‘Vital signs?’
‘All recorded on arrival and en route. GCS has been fifteen throughout. Sinus tachycardia. Sats normal.’
‘Pain relief?’
‘He’s got five milligrams of morphine on board, which seemed to do the trick.’
‘Past medical history?’
‘He’s diabetic. On beta blockers for hypertension and he’s a smoker.’
Blake’s heart sank a little. They could all complicate the road to successful treatment, especially if delicate surgery was required.
‘I can’t lose my hand,’ Stuart was saying to Sam as the paramedics left. ‘Please... I’ve got six kids at home and my job’s the only thing keeping us afloat. You’ve got to help me...’
‘We’ll do everything we can.’ Her voice was reassuring. ‘You’re lucky, Stuart.’ She was smiling at her patient now. ‘You’ve scored the best doctor we’ve got at Bondi Bay. This is Blake Cooper...’
‘G’day, Stuart.’ Blake stepped closer to the bed. It was disconcerting that he had to make a conscious effort to chase the effects of hearing Sam’s voice up close into the back of his head. And that smile...
Thank goodness he had a patient to focus on.
‘I’m going to give you a quick all-over check first and make sure we’re not missing any other injuries and then we’ll take a good look at that arm of yours, okay?’
Sam was just as focused. She had wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Stuart’s uninjured arm and was checking the IV line to make sure they still had a vein open if needed. She had both the ECG and drug trolleys nearby as well.
A few minutes later and it was time to unwrap the bandages and remove the dressings applied at the scene.
‘You don’t need to look,’ Sam said to Stuart. ‘Sometimes it’s better not to.’
It was probably just as well that Stuart chose to turn his head away and close his eyes. De-gloving injuries, where the skin was pulled away from underlying structures of muscle and bone, were usually horrendous and this was no exception.
The forearm was stripped to the wrist and the little finger of Stuart’s hand was simply bone. The ring and middle finger at least had some muscle still attached and there was an ooze of blood providing reassurance that blood vessels were still intact.
‘Can you move your fingers, Stuart?’
The movement was creepily normal so nerves were still intact as well. It was like watching an anatomical model come to life.
Blake flicked his gaze upwards. Even people used to dealing with traumatic injuries could find something like this confronting and he needed to know if Sam could handle it.
Her gaze met his. He could see that she was shocked. He could also see that she could cope. That she was trusting him to know what to do and that she would do whatever was needed to assist him.
And suddenly there was no danger of being distracted by any thoughts about Samantha Braithwaite that were decidedly unprofessional. He had a colleague here that he knew was competent and that he could trust and...he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be working with him right now.
They could do this.
‘We’re going to re-cover the wounds with saline-soaked dressings,’ he told her. ‘We need X-rays and Triple A therapy.’
Sam nodded. She already had a bowl of dressings ready. ‘Analgesia, antibiotics and ADT if needed.’ She turned her head. ‘Stuart, have you had a tetanus vaccination recently?’
‘Not that I can remember. How bad is it, Doc?’
‘It’s not pretty,’ Blake said. ‘But it could have been worse. I’m going to get some surgical specialists to come down and see you but we need to get some X-rays first to see if any bones are broken or whether any bits of that conveyor belt got left behind.’
‘It was so stupid,’ Stuart groaned. ‘Something got stuck and I thought that I could just poke it with a stick, you know? The belt grabbed the stick so fast I didn’t have time to let go. My wife’s going to kill me...’
‘Has someone got in touch with her for you?’ Sam asked.
‘Yeah...but she’s got to find someone to look after the kids before she can come in. The twins are only three and they’re a real handful, you know? Ahh...that hurts...’
‘Can you draw up some more morphine, please, Sam? I think we need to top up that pain relief.’
‘Got it here.’ Sam handed him a syringe with the ampoule taped to the side so that he could check the dose and expiry date.
Man...she was impressive to work with. He had to smile as he thanked her and his gaze snagged hers for just an instant.
They were both being ultimately professional. Blake didn’t doubt that in the least but he also knew that the beat of connection he was aware of had elements that went beyond anything he normally had, even with his most trusted colleagues.
Everything about Sam was just that little bit different, wasn’t it?
* * *
His shift was officially over well before Stuart was passed into the care of the surgeons. Blake knew that Sam had also stayed on, having become so involved with this case. She looked after Marie, Stuart’s wife, after she arrived and sat with her as decisions were made about the best course of treatment. X-rays an
d clinical photographs had been taken and Blake’s initial overall examination had been followed up with investigations on all of Stuart’s existing medical conditions. The time off work that would be needed for complex reconstructive surgery that could potentially save all his fingers had to be taken into account as well, given that he was the sole financial support for his family.
‘I don’t care,’ Stuart finally decided. ‘If losing my little finger and half my ring finger means I can get back to work sooner, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll still be able to use my hand well enough, I reckon.’
‘If you stop smoking, you’ll recover a lot better and faster,’ the surgeon told him. ‘It affects blood supply and healing time quite dramatically.’
‘I’ve been telling him to stop for years,’ Marie said. ‘If losing a finger is what it takes then maybe this is worth it.’ She had tears running down her face as she gripped her husband’s uninjured hand. ‘I can’t lose you, Stu. I need you. The kids need you...’
‘I’m sorry...’ Stuart was crying as well. ‘I’ll never touch another cigarette, I promise. I love you, honey...’
The emotion in the room was enough to touch everybody. Sam was blinking hard as she walked past Blake, having wished Stuart all the best for the next steps in his recovery.
Perhaps she felt how intently he was watching her because she turned her head and caught his gaze.
And, just for a heartbeat, he saw something unguarded.
Something that suggested a connection that had absolutely nothing to do with the case they’d just spent so much time working on together. Something that made him think Sam knew too much about love...and grief...
It was only the briefest moment of eye contact but it was enough for Blake to realise that pretending nothing had happened between them wasn’t going to work any more. Whether he liked it or not, there was something there that wasn’t going to fade by being ignored.
If anything, the curiosity and...and this astonishing pull to be close to Sam was just going to get worse.
He was going to have to try something else.
The opportunity to do that came when he fortuitously caught up with Sam as she was walking towards the car park, having finally clocked off.
Okay...so maybe he’d planned his route so that that was going to happen but his decision had been made in that moment of eye contact as she’d left the treatment room.
Maybe it was due to the relief that it was clearly possible to work with Sam without anything that had happened interfering with how professional they could be.
Or maybe it was because he had reached breaking point with not being able to get her out of his head.
Then again, maybe it was what he had seen in that glance that had made him simply want to take her into his arms and hold her close. Very, very close...
Whatever it was, something had to be done.
He needed to know whether what he’d thought he’d seen in her eyes meant that she was also aware of this feeling of connection and was experiencing the same kind of pull towards him or had Sam really moved on without a second thought or backward glance? If she had, fine, he would do the same. Somehow.
But if she hadn’t...
Well... Hopefully, he’d know what he wanted to do about that when he knew how things stood.
* * *
Sam had known that Blake Cooper was a smooth operator but there was something about the way he appeared so casually and fell into step beside her that made her suspicious that it wasn’t entirely a coincidence.
Had he planned this?
Why...because he wanted to talk to her in private?
Her heart stumbled for a beat and then picked up its pace. Her awareness of Blake in a purely professional setting was hard enough to handle sometimes. Walking side by side, she found that awareness was almost unbearable. She didn’t dare catch his gaze.
‘Thanks for staying on,’ Blake said. ‘Stuart’s wife really appreciated your support.’
‘I couldn’t leave without knowing what’s coming next for them. Do you think amputation was the best choice?’
‘I do. Losing a little finger will have minimal effect on his ability to use his hand and, if the replantation and revascularisation of the other areas is successful, he might get full cover for the length of time he’ll have to be away from work.’
‘It’s going to be a tough time for the family.’
‘It is.’ Sam could feel Blake looking down at her as they neared her car. ‘But families can survive if they stick together. If there’s enough love...’
Sam swallowed hard. ‘I think there is...’ She had stopped walking now. She couldn’t not look up to meet his gaze. ‘Don’t you?’
Oh, wow...
Talk about falling into someone’s eyes. Maybe it was the echoes of the ‘L’ word hanging in the air between them.
How was she supposed to keep this casual? To pretend that what had happened had been left behind in that hotel room and forgotten?
But...perhaps she didn’t have to...
That look... She’d seen it once before. When they had been lying in bed together. When Blake had been poised above her and right about to...
He cleared his throat.
‘I...ah... I’ve been thinking,’ he said slowly.
‘Me, too,’ she whispered back.
‘About...you know...’
‘Mmm.’ Sam could feel colour seeping into her cheeks. ‘I know.’
Blake glanced around, as if checking that no one was within earshot. ‘And I know we agreed that it was a one-off, but...’
But?
Sam’s balance suddenly felt a bit off kilter. As if her legs didn’t want to hold her up any more. She focused on Blake’s feet to steady herself. On those stupid, sexy cowboy boots.
‘I don’t do...relationships,’ he muttered then.
‘Neither do I,’ Sam heard herself say.
And it was true, although not because it wasn’t something she wanted. Eventually. Was it possible that it was the same for Blake? Did he think he wasn’t relationship material simply because nothing had worked for him so far? What was holding him back?
She had to catch his gaze again and she knew that her curiosity would be evident. What surprised her was seeing a reflection of that curiosity in his gaze.
‘It was a one-off for more than the fact that neither of us do relationships,’ she said. ‘We work together. It would be unprofessional.’
Blake snorted softly. ‘It’s pretty unprofessional to be thinking about it all the time.’
Again, Sam seemed to see her own thoughts reflected in those dark eyes. He had been finding this as difficult as she had? Wow...
‘And my reputation is bad enough already, I believe.’
She had to smile. ‘I believe so, too.’ She caught her lip between her teeth. ‘So, it wouldn’t really change anything, then...’
‘No.’
Could Blake hear how hard her heart was thumping right now? ‘Um...maybe we just need to get it out of our system, then.’
His voice was a low, sexy rumble. ‘Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting? Another...one-off?’
Sam shrugged, trying to cover the wash of excitement running through her body. Trying to make this seem not a big deal.
‘Or a two-off. A three-off, if that’s what it takes.’ She took a deep breath and then held his gaze steadily as she gathered her words. Yes, she did want a real relationship that was going somewhere but it had to be with the right person and that person wasn’t going to be Blake Cooper because she could sense that his demons were even bigger than hers.
But, oh...that didn’t stop the wanting, did it? The lure of the bad boy...
‘We both walk alone, Blake,’ she said quietly, ‘for whatever reason—and at some point we’ll know it’s enough. Maybe we just
need to agree that when one of us reaches that point, the other walks away too. No regrets. No looking back.’
Somehow, she had moved closer to Blake as she’d been speaking, without realising it. Her head was tilted up so that she could hold his gaze and he was looking down.
Leaning down...as if he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her.
Then he straightened suddenly and Sam could feel the distance increasing between them with a wave of disappointment. Despair, almost...?
But he was smiling. That crooked, irresistibly charming smile of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and was quite confident he was going to get it.
‘What are you doing tonight, Sam?’
Her mouth felt dry. ‘Nothing important.’
‘Give me your address and I’ll come and get you. You up for a bike ride?’
Sam could almost hear her mother shrieking in horror at the thought but her rebellious streak wasn’t about to be quashed. She might only get one more night with this man so why not add an extra thrill to it?
She could feel her smile stretching into a grin. ‘Bring it on.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
WELL...
This was a bit of a turnaround.
Blake had always been the one to call the shots when it came to applying boundaries to any kind of relationships. He was the one to make it clear that it was never going to be anything long term and he was always the one to call ‘time’ when it was over.
It seemed like he had met his match because there was a real possibility that, this time, it would be Sam who decided when enough was enough.
And it was making him feel...competitive?
He was going to give Sam Braithwaite a night to remember. One that would—hopefully—have her begging for more.
Or maybe it was more a need to gain the usual kind of control he had over situations like this. If she wanted more, he would be back in the driver’s seat and he could decide when it was time to pull the plug on this connection.
Whatever...it was a slightly disconcerting position to be in but to walk away from an offer of more of the best sex he’d ever had in his life with no strings attached? An impossible ask.
The Shy Nurse's Rebel Doc Page 10