by Sarah Morgan
‘Yes, but don’t worry. I’m not interested.’ Liar! Of course you’re interested—what man wouldn’t be? He scowled darkly and added, ‘She’s got the same imperious everyone-is-beneath-me air as her father.’
‘Yes, well, I reckon Bevis Willoughby would be the father-in-law from hell,’ Madeleine said with grimace. ‘No one, and I mean no one, is going to be good enough for his precious princess.’
Ben rolled his eyes as he got to his feet. ‘Tell me about it,’ he said. ‘I pity the guy who gets the job of asking for his daughter’s hand in marriage.’
Madeleine lifted her brows again. ‘Do men still do that these days?’ she asked, reaching for the coffee-pot.
‘My late father did,’ Ben said. ‘And even my stepfather asked for a private meeting with my grandfather. I guess eventually I’ll have to follow their example.’
‘So in spite of public opinion, country-bred men are much more sophisticated and refined than they are given credit for,’ Madeleine mused.
‘Try telling that to Professor Willoughby,’ Ben said as he shouldered open the door. ‘He used to glance at my shoes during every Monday morning tutorial to check for cow manure.’
Madeleine laughed. ‘Did you bring some in to annoy him?’ Ben grinned. ‘What do you think?’ he said, and, winking at her, left.
The accident happened right in front of her. Georgie slammed on the brakes as the car in front of her ran into the one in front of it, the sound of metal crunching against metal sickening to say the least.
She pulled slightly towards the centre of the road to prevent more cars from ramming up the back of the already crashed vehicles, and turned on her hazard lights. There had been a case recently of a good Samaritan rescue gone wrong when another car had severely injured a rescuer. She’d resolved in a similar situation to put her car between herself and any rescue mission she undertook. She approached the car in front where a woman in her early thirties was looking pale and upset, her small infant crying volubly in the babyseat in the back.
An older man was getting out of the first car, his face puce with anger as he strode over to the young mother. ‘What the hell you do think you’re doing, you stupid idiot?’ he stormed. ‘Didn’t you see the red light or are you just plain dumb?’
‘Excuse me, sir,’ Georgie said, as she placed her doctor’s bag on the road. ‘I’m a doctor. Are you hurt in any way?’
The man peered down at her. ‘No, but I want to press charges for—’
‘Never mind that now,’ Georgie interrupted firmly. ‘Step back and out of the way. I need to see to this young woman’s baby. You can sort your grievances out later. Go and wait by your car until the police arrive.’
The man looked as if he was going to argue the point but Georgie had already opened her bag and slung her stethoscope around her neck to drive home her professional advantage.
She turned to the mother and smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, he’ll soon cool down. Now, let’s have a look at you both.’
‘I’m fine,’ the young mother said, wiping away tears of distress. ‘But Jasmine …’
‘Is that your name, sweetie?’ Georgie crooned as she expertly examined the baby girl, who looked about eight months old. ‘Did you get a big nasty shock when Mummy’s car suddenly stopped?’
‘Is she all right?’ the mother asked with a wobble in her voice.
‘I can’t see anything wrong with her,’ Georgie said as she did a hasty primary survey up to ABCD, missing out on E. As she listened to the little girl’s chest with her stethoscope, she wasn’t sure whether she’d heard a faint murmur. When she listened again she couldn’t definitely pick it up. She pulled the baby’s top back down and tickled her under the chin before addressing the mother.
‘It seems like all is OK,’ Georgie said, ‘but she needs to be checked over properly at Accident and Emergency just to make sure everything is fine. I’ve already called an ambulance. It’s possible the restraints on her baby seat may have bruised her when the car stopped.’
‘I didn’t see the man’s brake lights,’ the young mother began to cry again.
‘Try not to upset yourself,’ Georgie said, putting a consoling hand on the woman’s shoulder. ‘Jasmine is probably crying because you are, aren’t you, poppet?’
The little baby gave her a toothless smile, two fat crystal tears still clinging to her blonde eyelashes, but thankfully her wailing had stopped.
Within a few moments a police car arrived, closely followed by the ambulance, the paramedics agreeing with Georgie’s advice to transport the baby to A and E for assessment. While the paramedics extracted the child from her seat with neck support, and onto a trolley, Georgie wrote basic notes and obs onto a paper pad from her car, and gave it to the ambulance driver to add to their own hospital notes.
After the ambulance had left, Georgie stopped to have a quick chat with the policewoman attending the accident. She knew her from the gym and had often exchanged an early-morning greeting with her in the change room in the past. ‘Hi, Belinda,’ she said. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’
Belinda Bronson smiled. ‘I didn’t see you at the fit ball class this morning.’
‘I was on call last night and slept through my alarm.’
Belinda ran her gaze over Georgie’s neat skirt and top and mid-height heels. ‘You know, I almost didn’t recognise you with your clothes on.’
Georgie grinned. ‘No wonder they’ve banned camera phones in the gym.’
‘You’d be amazed at what people get up to,’ Belinda said, with a fleeting but totally cynical cop-like expression. ‘You off to work now?’
Georgie glanced at her watch and grimaced. ‘Hell! I’m going to be late for my first ward round on the neurosurgical unit.’
‘Thanks for helping here this morning,’ Belinda said. ‘That little baby was a cutie, wasn’t she?’
‘Don’t tell me you’re a bit clucky.’
‘I’m over thirty now so, yes, I’m hearing the clock tick a little louder than before.’
Georgie smiled at her friend’s rueful expression. ‘You doing body combat tomorrow morning?’
Belinda gave her a twinkling look as she pointed to the tall, good-looking police officer who was inspecting the brake lights of the male driver’s car. ‘I’m hoping to be doing body combat tonight. What do you think of my new partner?’
Georgie ran her gaze over the fit-looking, brown-haired man. ‘Not bad,’ she said.
‘What about you? Got any options going at that new hospital of yours?’ Belinda asked.
Georgie had to forcibly remove the image of Ben Blackwood from her mind. ‘I’m on a three-month no-dating pact,’ she said. ‘My flatmate and I decided after our last relationship disasters we were going to bail out for a while. I’m so over men at the moment.’
‘No wonder you’re hitting the gym every morning,’ Belinda said, reaching for her phone when it started to buzz. ‘Catch you later, Georgie.’
‘See you,’ Georgie answered. Glancing at her watch again, she raced back to her car.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘SO WHERE is the registrar this morning?’ Ben asked Irene Clark, the unit head nurse on duty.
‘She called the unit a few minutes ago. She’s going to be a few minutes late,’ Irene said. ‘She said something about an accident.’
Ben gave a grunt and turned to the four medical students and the intern hovering in the background. ‘Just for the record if you need to make up an excuse for being absent or late, make sure it’s an original each time,’ he said. ‘I will be keeping a mental record of how many grandmothers’ funerals, toothaches or minor traffic accidents occur.’
There was a snigger from the group just as Georgie burst onto the ward. ‘Sorry I’m so late,’ she said a little breathlessly. ‘I was caught up in an accident and—’
Ben hooked one brow upwards. ‘Another one, Dr
Willoughby?’
Georgie stopped in her tracks, her eyes taking in the intereste
d stares from the medical students and Jules Littlemore the intern. She drew her shoulders back and met Ben’s dark satirical gaze with an equanimity fuelled by anger. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact, Mr Blackwood,’ she said in a clipped tone. ‘And this time it wasn’t my fault.’
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. ‘I’m very glad to hear it. Now, if you’d like to join us, we’re about to do a ward round. You do know what that is, don’t you,
Dr Willoughby?’
Georgie silently seethed as he led the way to the first patient. So that’s the way he was going to play it, was he? She ground her teeth as she took her place beside Jeffrey Neale’s bed.
‘Dr Willoughby, can you summarise Mr Neale’s admission from last night for us, please?’ Ben asked as he glanced through the patient’s notes. ‘Mr DeBurgh has asked me to include his patients on the ward round for him as he’s doing a list in the private hospital this morning.’
‘Yes, Mr Blackwood,’ Georgie answered tightly. ‘Mr Neale came in through A and E after a high-speed MVA. He was resussed and investigated by the A and E staff before I was called. Apart from some minor soft-tissue injuries and a couple of fractured ribs, his main problem was a closed head injury, and his GCS was 9 on arrival. He was intubated and CT’d. He’s got diffuse oedema and scattered cerebral petechial haemorrhages but no localising lesion. Last night Mr DeBurgh put in an ICP monitor. He’s been on mannitol, steroids and phenobarb overnight. ICP has remained normal, and pCO2 and oximetry have been closely monitored.’
‘Nicely summarised, Georgie,’ Jules said with an encouraging smile.
‘Yes, not bad,’ Ben agreed. ‘But you haven’t gone on to the management plan.’
Georgie set her mouth. ‘I thought you just wanted the summary up to now.’
Ben held her pointed look. ‘The summary is fine. But you need to spell out a plan of management. You can’t just stop there.’
Her eyes shifted away from his. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.
Ben could tell she wasn’t the least bit sorry. She had a pout on her mouth and her chin was a little too high for his liking.
He forced his attention back to the matter in hand and said, ‘Maybe the students can help us out, then. Karen, what do you think we should be doing with Mr Neale today?
‘Well, I think we should maybe re-CT him to make sure no focal bleed has occurred, because we can’t do a clinical neurological assessment. Then maybe start to withdraw the sedation and see what sort of GCS and peripheral neuro activity we get,’ Karen answered. ‘Oh, and maybe an EEG, too.’
‘That’s not bad for a medical student,’ Ben said. ‘Karen, why don’t you work with Dr Willoughby and write down a management plan, and we’ll review it later this morning?’
‘Gee, thanks, Mr Blackwood. I’d be glad to help out,’ Karen gushed.
Georgie caught Jules’s amused gaze and rolled her eyes.
The next patient was a woman in her early fifties who had undergone a microdiscectomy a few days previously. Georgie gave the students a quick rundown on Mrs Walters’s progress before addressing the patient. ‘So how is the physiotherapy going, Mrs Walters?’
‘I’m not very good on the stairs yet,’ Margaret Walters confessed. ‘And the pain is keeping me awake at night.’
‘It takes time for things to settle down,’ Ben said, his shoulder brushing Georgie’s as he reached past her to inspect the IV fluid chart. ‘We’ll write up some more pain relief for you but I’d like to see you walking down the corridor tomorrow. I don’t expect you to do a marathon but it’s important to get moving. And don’t forget—no sitting for two weeks and no lifting or bending for six.’
‘I don’t know how I’ll manage,’ Margaret said with a worried frown. ‘My husband’s not well and we’ve got our disabled son to care for. Who’s going to do the washing and cooking?’
Ben put the chart back, noticing how Georgie had put some distance between them. ‘I’ll send one of the social workers in to chat to you about home help,’ he said. ‘And perhaps you’d better have a few extra days in hospital to give yourself a bit more of a break.’
Georgie fell back as the ward round came to an end to chat with Jules, who had attended the same university as herself and Rhiannon. He had briefly dated a friend of hers and while he and Emma had since broken up, Georgie and Rhiannon had maintained occasional contact with him.
‘So what’s going on with you and Ben Blackwood?’ Jules asked with a teasing smile. ‘I’ve never seen him act like that before. He’s normally so laid back and easygoing.’
Georgie checked to see if anyone could hear them before answering with a scowl, ‘I disliked him the moment I met him. He’s a pain in the you-know-where.’
‘Uh-oh,’ Jules said.
‘What do you mean, “Uh-oh”?’ Georgie asked, frowning at him darkly.
He gave her another grin. ‘You don’t stand a chance, Georgie,’ he said. ‘Pay Rhiannon the thousand bucks and get it over with.’
She gave him a surprised glance. ‘She told you about that?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, not quite meeting her eyes. ‘I ran into her the other night.’
‘Funny she didn’t mention anything to me,’ Georgie said with a smile and a glint in her eye.
‘Dr Willoughby.’ Ben Blackwood’s voice cut through the air like a switchblade. ‘If you have finished flirting with the intern, I would like to see you in my office to discuss your research project.’
Georgie turned around but he was already striding away.
She turned back to Jules and said in an undertone, ‘See what I mean? A total pain in the rear end.’ Jules just smiled.
This time his office door was closed and Georgie stood outside it for a moment, trying to control her bubbling anger. She took a couple of calming breaths and clenched and unclenched her fists.
‘Are you to going to knock on it or kick it in?’ Ben asked from just behind her.
She spun around, her colour rising as she met his mocking eyes. ‘I suppose you think it’s hilariously funny, making a laughing stock of me in front of the medical students, do you?’ she said.
He reached past her to open the door, his arm brushing against her waist. Georgie stepped away but her body felt hot and tingly and her nostrils began to flare as the tantalising scent of his aftershave drifted towards her. She fought against her reaction and not just for the sake of a thousand dollars. He was quite clearly enjoying every moment of her discomfiture if the look in his bluer-than-blue gaze was to be believed.
‘Would you like a coffee or something?’ he asked as he took the chair behind his desk.
‘No, thank you,’ she said, still standing.
‘Would you like to sit down or are you enjoying the height advantage for a change?’
‘You really are the most annoying man I’ve ever met,’ she bit out. ‘You’ve done nothing but ridicule me from the word go. Just where do you get off?’
A hint of steel entered his voice. ‘Sit down, Dr
Willoughby.’
She stamped her foot on the floor. ‘No, I will not sit down.’
A flash of anger appeared in his eyes as they duelled with hers. ‘Do you want to stay on this unit or not, Dr Willoughby?’ Her eyes burned into his. ‘Are you threatening me, Mr
Blackwood?’
He got to his feet in one slow movement, his increase in height making her feel tiny as he towered over her with only the desk between them. Her stomach did a funny little birdlike flutter as he leant forward with his hands resting on the desk, his eyes pinning hers.
‘You have been late two mornings in a row,’ he said in a cold, hard tone. ‘I do not usually like to run the unit like a drill sergeant but if you keep not turning up on time we’ll have to look at whether you’re suitable for the neurosurgical training scheme.’
‘If you do that I will report you to the CEO. My father and he are golf buddies.’ As soon as Georgie had said the words she regretted them. She was not normally a name-dropper and
she positively loathed hospital politics, but something about Ben’s manner towards her provoked her into totally uncharacteristic behaviour.
His eyes glittered like sapphires, his jaw white with anger. ‘You really take the cake, don’t you, Dr Willoughby?’ he said. ‘You come flouncing into my unit like a princess, expecting everyone to worship the very ground you walk on just because you happen to have a professor for a father.’
‘I do not flounce,’ she said, only just managing to resist a toss of her head.
His lip curled. ‘I’m not impressed with anything I’ve seen from you so far,’ he said. ‘You came to that ward round unprepared and then had the audacity to flirt with the intern.’
‘The intern and I are friends,’ she said in her defence, her cheeks glowing with rage. ‘And I do not flirt.’
‘Is there anything else you do not do?’ he asked with another curl of his lip.
Georgie had had enough. She leaned forward on the desk, the tips of her splayed fingers touching his, her eyes like twin fires as she met him eye to eye. ‘I do not normally feel like slapping my boss’s face but let me tell you right now I am sorely tempted.’
‘Go right ahead,’ he said, eyeballing her back. ‘But perhaps I should warn you of the consequences first.’
Georgie disguised a little swallow as her gaze dipped to his mouth. She was so close to him she could see the pepper of dark stubble on his face as if he had skipped shaving that morning. It gave him an arrantly masculine look that was devastatingly attractive. She tried to edge her fingers away from his but somehow one of his hands had come down over both of hers, trapping them beneath his.
‘W-what consequences?’ she croaked as her eyes returned to his.
Long seconds seemed to pass before he spoke.
‘I’m not going to tolerate this sort of performance, Dr Willoughby. If there is any more slacking off, you’ll be out on your ear. Understood?’
‘Perfectly,’ she said through tight lips.
He released her hands as he straightened, his hands going to his trouser pockets, the deep thrust of them drawing her eyes like a magnet. He had such long, strong legs, toned by hours of hard exercise, his waist lean and his stomach flat and ridged with muscle that was clearly visible through the lightweight cotton of his shirt. His sleeves were rolled back past his wrists, the dark masculine hair reminding her all over again of his potency as a full-blooded male in his prime.