‘My pleasure,’ he said with a wry chuckle. ‘Any time.’
She went out into the ward and found Adam with Damian and his parents in the side ward near the nursing station. The boy was in the Stryker frame that was used for spinal cases, so that he could be turned regularly without damaging him.
He had an aluminium halo attached to his skull, and it was fixed to rods leading to another set of screws in his pelvis, holding his spine in traction. It looked far worse than it felt, but because of the pain of the spinal surgery he was attached to a syringe driver delivering painkillers in a steady, measured dose.
It would be a long, slow process to correct the spinal deformity and allow the newly remodelled bones to heal, and in the meantime he was going to be bad-tempered and tearful.
Anna had seen it all before, and knew it would present quite a nursing challenge. He was in a side room now for peace and quiet, with a nurse to special him, but once he was feeling better he would go out into the ward to provide him with some entertainment and diversions.
And that was when their real problems would start.
Adam looked up and smiled at her, then looked away, then looked back again, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned her face.
Oops. She hadn’t got away with it. Trust him to notice. He’d spent the weekend studying her every feature. She might have realised he’d be impossible to fool.
‘Sister Long,’ he said quietly. ‘Come and join us. You’ve met Mr and Mrs George, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, of course. How are you?’ she asked the parents. ‘Can I get you anything? You must have had a very trying day.’
Damian’s mother smiled wanly. ‘It’s just so draining, waiting.’
‘I know. Well, I’m going off duty now, but if you want anything, ask any of the nursing staff and they’ll sort it out. Jenny will be keeping an eye on him and reporting back to Mr Bradbury, and she’ll be in here with you all the time until she goes off duty at nine. There will be another nurse on for the night, and I’ll be back on at seven. If there’s anything you want to know, just ask one of us. OK?’
She left them with a smile, and retrieved her coat from the locker room and headed off the ward.
‘Anna!’
She stopped, waiting while Adam caught up with her, and looked up into his searching eyes. ‘Hi. Sorry, I thought you were busy.’
‘I am. Are you all right?’
She gave him a sad smile. ‘Yes, Adam, I’m all right. I’m just tired. I’m going home to bed.’
‘Can I ring you? I don’t want to wake you.’
‘I don’t mind,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t suppose you can come round?’
He shook his head. ‘Well, not until much later—about ten, and it’s too late.’
‘It is really,’ she said reluctantly. ‘You could, though, if you wanted to.’
‘I’ll see.’ He moved away from her, back towards the ward. ‘Later. Take care.’
She smiled and watched him go, then turned and made her way out of the hospital. She’d miss him if he didn’t come round, but perhaps it would be better if he didn’t. As Josh had said, it was too much, too soon, and she maybe needed time to come to terms with it all.
Adam got as far as his car, then thought better of it. Be rational, he told himself. You can’t spend every minute of every night with her, and then work all day. It’s just silly.
He locked the car again and trudged back inside, hung up his coat, poured a small glass of Scotch and went up to his room. There he kicked off his shoes, settled himself on the bed and picked up the phone.
‘Hi,’ he said in answer to her hello. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Mmm. I was asleep. It’s lovely to hear your voice.’
‘Are you in bed?’ he asked, and felt the longing ache begin.
‘Mmm. I miss you. It seems odd without you here now.’
He closed his eyes and groaned softly. ‘Anna, don’t,’ he murmured. ‘I was coming over.’
‘You should have.’
‘No. We need sleep. Anyway, I’ve got a drink now, I can’t drive.’
‘Oh.’ Was it his imagination, or did she sound disappointed?
‘Are you really OK?’ he asked again, still concerned about her. He was sure she’d been crying, but he couldn’t imagine why. Surely she and Josh—
‘You and Josh,’ he said abruptly. ‘You don’t have a thing going, do you?’
Her laughter nearly cut through his eardrum. ‘Josh? Are you kidding? He’s got a gorgeous wife he’d kill for, and two beautiful little children, a boy and a girl. There’s no way he’d look at another woman.’
‘What about you?’ he asked, trying to keep the acid burn of jealousy in check.
She hesitated for a moment, and when she spoke there was a note of reproach in her voice that made him ashamed. ‘What about me, Adam? Didn’t the weekend convince you? I don’t have a thing going with anyone—only you.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like that. I just wondered…You seemed upset after you talked to him. I didn’t know why.’
She sighed softly, and he wished he’d gone round there, that they were having this conversation face to face, so he could read her beautiful expressive eyes.
‘I just got upset—he asked about you. He thinks it’s too sudden. He behaves like a big brother with us all. It’s nothing. You learn to ignore it after a while.’
Big brother? He had an overwhelming urge to push Josh Lancaster’s teeth down his interfering throat. How dare he presume to tell Anna off for her relationship with him?
‘Hey, stop it, I can feel you getting angry,’ Anna said in gentle reproach. ‘He means well. He’s very kind.’
Adam didn’t want to talk about him any more. He didn’t want to talk, full stop. He wanted to hold her, and touch her, and watch her fall apart under his hands. He looked at the untouched Scotch in the glass, and wondered if he had any self-control at all.
Then he heard Jaz cry out in his sleep, and with a sigh he picked up the glass and drained it.
That would fix it. He couldn’t go to her now. He didn’t ever drink and drive, not after what he’d seen in A and E. ‘I have to go,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Jasper’s crying, he needs me. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well.’
‘You, too. Hope he’s all right.’
‘He’ll be fine. ‘Night, Anna. Take care.’
He put the phone down very carefully, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and padded softly next door. Danny was asleep in his bed behind the door, and Jasper was sitting up on the far side, knuckling his eyes and sobbing quietly.
‘It’s all right, Jaz, I’m here,’ he murmured reassuringly. Scooping the little lad up, he sat on his bed and cradled him against his chest.
‘Had a dream,’ Jaz hiccuped unhappily. ‘I was f’ightened.’
‘It’s all gone now,’ Adam assured him. ‘You’re safe now, I’ve got you.’
And if I’d gone to Anna, I wouldn’t have been here for him, and Helle wouldn’t have heard him over her music.
Suddenly his burning desire to be with Anna was extinguished, replaced by the need to nurture and care for his children, and shelter them from the fears and perils of their hitherto insecure little lives.
‘It’s all right,’ he said again, rocking him until the little body relaxed against him and was still. Then he slid Jaz under the covers, tucked him up and went to bed, trying not to think of Anna and how big and empty his kingsize bed felt after sharing her much smaller one all weekend.
He couldn’t abandon his responsibilities, and he didn’t want to. What he wanted, what he needed, was a retreat, somewhere he could run to and hide when it all got too much. An oasis of calm and warmth and tenderness, a place to go to recharge his batteries and refill his soul.
He thought of Anna and her gentleness, and her peace seemed to steal over him.
‘Goodnight, my love,’ he whispered softly. ‘Sleep tight.’
Two miles away,
Anna lay in bed with her hands wrapped around a scarf Adam had left there. It was soft and cosy, and it carried the faint tang of his aftershave. She cradled it under her chin, and thought of him, and ached for him. She felt his presence with her somehow, almost as if he was thinking of her. Was he in bed already? Hers seemed awfully empty without him. Empty and cold.
Goodnight, my love. Sleep tight.
She snuggled the scarf closer, inhaling deeply and focusing on him in his huge bed in that enormous, empty bedroom.
‘Goodnight, my love,’ she whispered in the silent room. ‘Sleep tight. See you tomorrow.’
She seemed to feel his arms around her, holding her, his warmth stealing over her, and within moments she was asleep.
CHAPTER SIX
‘DAMIAN, we’re going to turn you,’ Anna said gently.‘All right?’
‘No-o-o,’ the boy protested, his voice barely audible. ‘Please, no.’
‘Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll give you a bit more pain relief, OK?’
‘Does it hurt him very much?’ his mother asked, looking troubled.
‘Probably a bit,’ Anna told her as she overrode the syringe driver and gave him a little more of the drug. ‘It’s also quite scary. When I was training we had to lie in it and be turned so we knew what it was like, and it’s a bit unnerving. It squashes you a bit with both halves on and, although you’re pretty stable inside it, you do feel a bit vulnerable. I can quite understand why he doesn’t like it, but he’d hate being turned any other way much, much more, believe me.’
Anna and Jenny clipped the other half of the revolving bed-frame on top of him, fastened it securely so that he was firmly sandwiched between the layers, and then turned it over, so that he went from his back to his front, with his face cradled in a special cut-out.
He whimpered as they turned it, but it had to be done, and once the upper piece of frame was removed they soon made him comfortable again.
Anna left the dressing until Adam arrived. She was sure he’d be in early to check up on Damian and Kate before going to his clinic, and she was right. He appeared shortly before eight, and she left Allie taking report and joined him just outside Damian’s room.
Adam gave her a brief but intimate smile of greeting and moved a little further away from the door so they were no longer in earshot. ‘Morning. How’s my favourite nurse today?’ he murmured.
‘Busy—how are you?’
‘Ditto. I’ve got a clinic in a minute. How’s he been in the night?’
‘All right, I think. He hates being turned over.’
‘I’m sure he does. I expect it hurts. Use the override on the syringe driver a few minutes before to give him a bit of extra pain relief,’ he suggested.
‘We do. It still hurts.’
‘Hmm. Well, there’s nothing else we can do, he’s on the most we can really give him. It’ll get better. Today will be the worst, I expect. Can I have a look at the wound?’
‘Sure. I’ve got the trolley ready. I was waiting for you.’
‘Thanks.’ His smile warmed her down to her toes, and she knew it was nothing to do with Damian and everything to do with their conversation last night. ‘Anna?’
She paused on the threshold of the room.
#8216;I missed you last night,’ he said, so softly she could hardly hear him.
‘Ditto,’ she replied just as softly. ‘It was a long night.’
‘What time do you have lunch?’
She laughed under her breath. ‘If and when I can get away, usually. Why don’t you ring me when you’re free?’
‘Good idea. Right, let’s see how Damian’s getting on.’
‘Are you OK?’
Anna looked up from her paperwork to see Josh leaning over the top of the work station, his arms propped on the high, narrow counter.
She gave him a forgiving smile. ‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks.’
‘I hear interesting things about your Mr Bradbury,’ he murmured. ‘I gather he’s pretty top-flight.’
‘So I’m told.’ It didn’t surprise her. She imagined he was the sort of man who was good at everything he did, and if his love-making was anything to go by, he was a stickler for detail.
‘Robert Ryder was impressed. He assisted with a case on Friday night, apparently, and saved a leg anyone else would have given up on. Apparently, the young woman is doing well, despite having lost the other leg and her fiancé in the crash.’
So that was what he’d been doing. She’d wondered what it had been that had put that haunted look in his eyes. ‘I don’t know how anybody can bear to do orthopaedics,’ she said with a shudder. ‘The trauma side is so messy.’
‘A and E is what gets me. You get the lot. I really, really don’t like blood.’ He grinned. ‘So what have you got for me?’
‘Oh, hundreds of new admissions,’ she teased. The phone rang, and she scooped it up.
‘Children’s ward, Sister Long speaking. Can I help you?’
‘Lunch?’
She glanced at her watch. ‘Can you give me five minutes?’
‘Sure. I’ll meet you in the Gallery.’
‘OK.’
She cradled the phone and looked up at Josh. ‘Right. Allie will show you your new cases. There are only two. One’s got some kind of flu that won’t shift and is turning into what looks like pneumonia, the other looks like diabetes.’
‘Thanks. I’ll go and see them. You go and have lunch with your maestro.’
She coloured. ‘What makes you think—?’
‘Don’t bother,’ he said with a lazy grin. ‘It’s written all over your face in letters ten feet high.’
‘My face isn’t that big.’
‘Your smile is.’
She laughed and stood up. ‘Are you going to watch my every movement?’
‘No—actually, I’m hoping to sell you tickets for the Valentine Ball on Saturday night. It’s a fundraiser for the children’s facilities in the department. You have a moral duty to support it. We’ve got a couple of spaces on our table—why don’t you join us?’
‘I’ll ask him,’ she promised, her heart thumping at the thought of spending the evening dancing with Adam. ‘I’ll let you know.’
She all but ran through the hospital, and found him sitting at a table in the Gallery coffee-shop. It was the nearest to the paediatric ward, and served snacks and drinks. Hardly lunching out, but it was quick, and that was all she had time for.
Adam stood up and came towards her, ushering her to the counter. ‘You took six minutes,’ he said in mock reproof, and she glanced at her watch.
‘Did I?’
He laughed. ‘I have no idea. It just seemed like a long time. What are you going to eat?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. A sandwich?’
‘Good idea.’
They took their selection out of the chiller, added mugs of coffee to the tray and he paid for it and led her back to the table where he’d been sitting.
‘I’m starving,’ she confessed, biting into her sandwich enthusiastically.
‘Must be all that activity at the weekend,’ he teased gently, and she felt herself colour a little.
‘It seems a long time ago,’ she said wistfully, picking out a prawn.
‘Too long. What are you doing tonight?’
She looked up into his eyes, and read the unmistakable invitation in them. ‘Waiting up for you?’ she suggested, and he gave a crooked, sexy smile that made her heart flutter.
‘Sounds good.’
‘This weekend,’ she said, trying not to drown in his eyes, ‘there’s a Valentine Ball in aid of the hospital children’s facilities. Josh asked if we wanted to join their table. I said I’d ask you.’
He looked thoughtful. ‘A Valentine Ball? I haven’t danced for years. Have you got strong shoes?’
She chuckled. ‘No—little strappy, open-toed ones—and I warn you, I love dancing, so you’d better be good at it.’
‘I’ll do,’ he confessed, and searched her eyes. �
�Fancy it?’
She nodded. ‘I do, actually. I haven’t been to a ball for ages, and I love to party.’
‘OK, Cinderella,’ he said with a lazy, sexy smile, ‘you shall go to the ball. Just don’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight.’
‘That was the coach,’ she laughed, and he grinned.
‘So it was. My mistake. What time tonight?’
Tonight. Her heart slammed against her ribs. ‘Whenever. What time can you make it?’
He shrugged. ‘Depends on the kids. I can’t stay long. Last night Jasper woke up crying and needed a cuddle—I’d hate to think I wasn’t there for him.’
‘What does he do when you’re at work?’
‘He cries, I suppose,’ Adam said heavily. ‘I don’t know. I try not to think about it.’
‘They need a mother,’ she said, her heart aching at the thought of Jasper lying crying in his bed, all alone. ‘Poor little loves.’
‘No,’ he said with quiet certainty, and a chill ran over her. ‘No, Anna, they don’t need a mother, and I don’t need a wife. Don’t start thinking along those lines, please. I need you, yes—God knows I need you—but not as a wife. Not as a mother for my children. Been there, done that. It was a disaster. No, our relationship’s going nowhere, Anna, except where it is—a beautiful little oasis of calm and tranquillity in the midst of my chaotic existence. I’m sorry if that’s not what you see for us, but it’s all I can give you—all I can ask of you. I’m sorry.’
She dropped her eyes, unwilling to let him see the pain she knew must be all too obvious in them. You’re wrong! she wanted to shout. Of course you need a wife!
But perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps he was right. She sat there, chasing bubbles in her coffee with the spoon, and swallowed the hurt before she made a complete ass of herself.
‘Anna?’ His voice was kind, and he placed gentle fingers under her chin and tilted her head so he could see into her tear-filled eyes. ‘Damn,’ he said softly, and brushed a tear away with his thumb. ‘Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry. I didn’t say I don’t need you. I do—probably more than you can imagine.’
He glanced around, sighed and dropped his hand. ‘We can’t talk about this here. I’ll come round tonight—may I come round tonight?’
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