The Pregnant Surgeon

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The Pregnant Surgeon Page 2

by Jennifer Taylor


  The thought should have been reassuring but for some reason Dylan found it depressing to realise that Joanna might be treating him the same as everyone else. Even though he resented her interference he preferred to think that she viewed him as more than just one of the crowd.

  The sheer stupidity of that thought made him laugh out loud and he had to hastily turn it into a cough because he really didn’t want to have to explain what was so amusing. He finished closing up then glanced at Tom Barnes, the anaesthetist, relieved that the operation was over. Never had such a routine piece of surgery turned out to be so stressful.

  ‘That’s it, then. How’s he doing?’

  ‘Better than when he came in,’ Tom replied laconically. He was a positive giant of a man with a mop of blond hair crammed under his Theatre hat. He’d been in the changing room when Dylan had arrived and had introduced himself, which had been a good job because otherwise Dylan would never have believed he was a bona fide medico.

  Dressed in combat trousers and a tatty T-shirt bearing a surfing motif across its front, Tom hadn’t looked like anyone’s idea of a doctor. However, the minute they had stepped into Theatre Dylan had realised that Tom knew exactly what he was doing, which was probably why Joanna accepted him as part of her team. She was prepared to overlook Tom’s appalling dress sense if it meant she had the calibre of staff she wanted working for her.

  For some reason that thought didn’t gel with the image he’d been building up of Joanna Martin. As Dylan thanked the staff and left Theatre, he found himself wondering about a woman who dressed as conservatively as Joanna did and yet who was prepared to overlook such obvious quirks in those who worked for her. It simply didn’t add up to someone who needed to be in control all the time and that naturally made him wonder why she’d been so keen to check up on him…

  Unless she had been as eager to see him as he’d been to see her, of course. He could lie to himself until the grass turned blue but the reason why he’d arrived for work so early that morning had been because he had been longing to see Joanna again.

  Dylan groaned as he dragged off his Theatre hat and raked an impatient hand through his black hair. He had to stop this nonsense before he made a complete ass of himself. He’d spoken to Joanna Martin for what? An hour, maybe a little more if he counted that conversation they’d had on the phone yesterday. And yet he was behaving as though—as though they were on the brink of having an affair!

  Joanna Martin was his boss. Period. He had to get that fact into his head once and for all. However, when the door opened and he saw her coming out of Theatre he knew it wasn’t going to be easy to think of her purely as that.

  His vision suddenly blurred so that it seemed as though the room was lit by the glow of a million stars rather than by the glare from a neon striplight. Maybe it was crazy, and maybe he was crazy for thinking it, but he knew in his heart that the woman standing in front of him was going to mean a lot more to him than just someone he worked with. He might not like the idea and was sure that Joanna would hate it if she had any inkling of what he was thinking, but there was no way he could pretend about something so important.

  Joanna Martin was the woman he was destined to fall in love with.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘I THINK we need to have a word, Dr Archer. If you would come to my office….’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  Joanna jumped when Dylan interrupted her. He smiled but his green eyes were full of something which made her skin suddenly start to prickle. Why was he looking at her as though he’d never really seen her before? She had no idea but it was hard to hide her alarm when he continued.

  ‘Obviously I’ve upset you and I apologise. It’s the last thing I wanted to happen on my first day.’

  Joanna cleared her throat, praying that he couldn’t tell how off balance she felt. She wasn’t sure what was going on but something was definitely wrong. Just for a second she found herself wondering if it was the fact that Dylan Archer was such a handsome man that had upset her equilibrium before she dismissed the idea. Dr Archer was a member of her staff, not a would-be suitor, and his looks had no bearing whatsoever on the situation.

  ‘I am not upset, Dr Archer, I assure you,’ she said firmly. ‘However, it’s obvious there are a few points we need to discuss—’

  ‘Like me waltzing off to Theatre with a patient before you could check me out?’

  Once again he cut in before she could finish and Joanna’s mouth thinned. She’d spent too many years fighting her corner whilst various male colleagues had tried to talk above her to let a new junior colleague get away with such tactics.

  ‘Perhaps you will do me the courtesy of letting me finish what I’m saying before you interrupt me again,’ she suggested coldly, then broke off when Tom and Lucy came out of Theatre, pushing the patient on a trolley. She saw them glance at her and Dylan before they hurriedly carried on to the recovery bay, but it was obvious even from that brief look that they’d sensed that something was going on. A little colour touched Joanna’s cheeks when it struck her once again that she might be making too big an issue out of this situation but she had to sort it out to her own satisfaction. She was in charge of this department and she wouldn’t rest until she was sure that Dylan Archer understood that.

  She turned to him again, struggling to keep her tone as neutral as possible. ‘I’ll see you in my office as soon as you’ve changed, Dr Archer.’

  He didn’t say anything this time although whether it was because he had decided to heed her advice, she wasn’t sure. Joanna hurried to the women’s changing room and quickly showered then dressed again. She checked her watch as she opened the door and sighed when she saw that she was already way behind schedule. She’d hoped to get an early start on the day’s list but it would have to wait until she’d cleared up this misunderstanding. From what she had seen so far, Dr Archer appeared to be perfectly competent at his job, but she needed to be sure that he wasn’t going to disrupt the workings of the whole team.

  Joanna went back to her office and told Lisa to send Dr Archer in as soon as he arrived. She sat down at her desk, wanting to look suitably composed when he appeared. She frowned because she’d never had any difficulty taking charge of her staff before so why did it seem so important all of a sudden that she make the right impression?

  She got up again and went to the mirror, tucking a loose strand of honey-gold hair into the heavy coil at the nape of her neck then running a finger over her eyebrows to smooth the tiny golden hairs into place. She never wore make-up when she would be operating and with her fair complexion tended to look rather washed-out in consequence. Maybe a holiday in the sun this year would give her a bit of much-needed colour?

  ‘Lisa said to come straight in. I hope that’s all right?’

  Joanna swung round at the sound of that familiar, deep voice. She was a little embarrassed at being caught staring into the mirror but less so than she might have been if she hadn’t had a more pressing concern to deal with. Bearing in mind that she’d spoken to Dylan Archer no more than half a dozen times to date, how had the timbre of his voice managed to imprint itself so clearly on her memory?

  Frankly, Joanna had no idea how to explain such a strange phenomenon so decided to ignore it and concentrate instead on the reason why she’d asked Dr Archer to come to her office. She sat down behind her desk once more and waved him towards a chair.

  ‘Please, sit down, Dr Archer. I shall be brief because we have a lot to get through today. I would have preferred it if you had waited until I’d arrived before you operated on that patient. As I explained to you yesterday on the phone, every new member of this team goes through a period of supervision. That rule applies to everyone who works here and there are no exceptions.’

  ‘Then I can only apologise once again, Ms Martin. I assure you that I wasn’t trying to flout your rules even though it may have appeared that way.’

  His tone was nothing less than polite so Joanna had no idea why it should have s
et her teeth on edge. It was an effort not to snap back with some sharp retort but she knew it would be a mistake to do that. She had to remain in control at all times when dealing with Dylan Archer. Something told her it was the only way to handle the situation.

  ‘I accept your apology, Dr Archer. Now that you’ve assured me it won’t happen again we’ll let the matter drop.’

  ‘I’m sorry but I’m afraid I can’t give you any such assurance, Ms Martin.’

  Once again his tone was faultlessly polite. However, Joanna had heard the steely note it held and her brows rose steeply. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘If we are to avoid any future misunderstandings I think it’s only fair that I make my position clear, Ms Martin. Given the same set of circumstances, I would follow exactly the same course of action.’

  His voice was even softer this time, soft and oddly dangerous-sounding. Joanna shivered when she heard the warning note it held. It was an effort to reply when she could feel the tremors working their way through her body.

  ‘Would you care to elaborate, Dr Archer?’

  ‘Certainly. If I had waited for you to arrive to supervise me then the patient could have died. I made my decision to go ahead and operate based on the experience I’ve gained over the last few years, and I believe it was the right decision, too.’ He shrugged, his broad shoulders rising and falling beneath his suit jacket. ‘Rules are all well and good, Ms Martin, but I will never endanger a patient’s life by blindly sticking to them. I’m a qualified surgeon, not a student, and I hope that you will pay me the courtesy of remembering that.’

  Joanna was completely floored and had no idea what to say. She knew she would be within her rights to reprimand him for speaking to her like that, but she was also aware that she’d handled the situation very badly. Dylan Archer was a highly skilled surgeon, which was the reason she’d been so keen to have him on her team, and if she’d been in his shoes, most probably she would have done the same thing. The patient could have died if the operation had been delayed so how could she honestly object to what he’d done? Why should she even want to when the outcome had been so satisfactory?

  Her breath caught because there was another question that needed answering, one which was suddenly more important than all the rest: was she really acting out of professional concern or because of the way Dylan Archer made her feel as a woman rather than a surgeon?

  Dylan forced himself to appear relaxed but it wasn’t easy. He was used to making decisions and not having them questioned, yet Joanna Martin seemed set on treating him like the new kid on the block! He couldn’t help wondering if he’d made a mistake by accepting the job at St Leonard’s. He’d been happy enough in his last post, but he’d needed to broaden his experience, which was why he had applied for the job.

  It was a well-known fact that Joanna Martin had worked wonders since she’d been appointed as head of surgery at St Leonard’s and Dylan had honestly believed he could learn a lot from working with her. However, he was rapidly having second thoughts. His life was going to be hell if she continually took him to task over everything he did.

  Maybe she got a kick out of throwing her weight around, he mused, before he dismissed the idea. Quite frankly, she didn’t look any happier than he felt as she sat there behind her desk, her beautiful face set and her eyes so dark that he could see his own reflection in them.

  Dylan’s stomach muscles suddenly knotted at the sheer intimacy of that thought and he sucked in a calming lungful of air, wishing that he’d thought everything through properly before he’d come charging up to her office. With the benefit of hindsight he could see now that he’d needed more time to get himself together before he had faced Joanna after that earlier revelation. Frankly, it was no wonder that everything was going pear-shaped. How, in the name of heaven, could he have known that he’d met the woman he was destined to fall in love with?

  Frankly, it defied all logic, or at least the bit of logic he could still dredge up. All he could do now was to try and salvage something from this mess.

  ‘I’m sorry. I was way out of order for saying that, Ms Martin. I understand that you have a duty to the patients in this hospital and need to ensure that everyone receives the best possible care.’

  ‘I do, but equally I’m one of the people who interviewed you for this post, Dr Archer. If I’d had any concerns about your suitability I should have raised them then.’

  She shrugged and Dylan felt a wave of tenderness wash over him when he saw how confused she looked. He wanted to reach across the desk and squeeze her hand, reassure her that he wasn’t offended—well, not now that she’d apologised, anyway—only he sensed it would be a mistake to do that. Joanna would just retreat back into her shell and then he’d have an even harder job eliciting a response from her.

  Heat flashed through him when it struck him that the response he wanted from her wasn’t solely a professional one. Maybe he did want her to treat him as the skilled surgeon he knew himself to be, but it wasn’t his only attribute, as he would be happy to make clear. It was a relief when Joanna suddenly stood up because it effectively put an end to such crazy thoughts.

  ‘I think it’s time we got down to some work, don’t you? We have a full list this morning, mainly minor elective surgery, although there is one case which you should find interesting.’

  She headed for the door then glanced back when he followed her. Dylan felt his heart lift when she suddenly smiled at him. ‘It should definitely give you a chance to show off your skills.’

  ‘Sounds intriguing.’

  He followed her out of the room, trying to control the thundering of his heart as they walked to the stairs together. Just because Joanna had smiled at him, it wasn’t any reason to get too excited, he admonished himself, but sadly the advice seemed to fall on deaf ears. It was difficult to concentrate as she outlined the case for his benefit but he didn’t intend to give her any reason to fault his work. He was good at what he did and he was going to prove it to her and the rest of the team!

  ‘The patient’s name is Ada Harper and she is one hundred years old. She’s remarkably fit for her age which is the reason why we have agreed to operate on her. According to our colleagues in the cardiovascular department, Ada has the heart and lungs of a fifty-year-old.’

  ‘Amazing!’ Dylan laughed as he pushed open the swing doors so that Joanna could pass through them ahead of him. He inhaled deeply when he caught the fragrance of her perfume as she passed him. His whole body began to tingle before he ruthlessly forced his mind back to work, but it was alarming to realise just how responsive he was to this woman. He’d had more than his share of girlfriends over the years but he couldn’t recall a single one of them having the effect on him that Joanna seemed to have.

  ‘Amazing is the right word.’ Joanna waited for him to catch up before continuing. ‘Ada is a wonderful old lady, full of fun and brimming with energy. She would put many people half her age to shame, in fact. Unfortunately, she has a hiatus hernia which has been making her life a misery of late. The muscle at the junction between the oesophagus and the stomach has been badly affected and she’s been suffering from severe reflux of the stomach’s contents.’

  ‘Nasty,’ Dylan observed sympathetically. ‘Has it just caused severe heartburn or has there been oesophagitis as well?’

  ‘The oesophagus has been badly inflamed for some time, plus there are increasing periods when Ada can’t eat at all because the muscles have gone into spasm,’ Joanna explained. ‘Her GP tried all the usual remedies—a bland diet, eating several small meals each day instead of large ones—but the situation has got steadily worse. The GP referred Ada to a specialist at her local hospital and he agreed that the best treatment would be an operation to repair the hiatus hernia, but he refused to put her on his list, which is why she has ended up here.’

  ‘That’s rather unusual, isn’t it?’ he queried. ‘If her local hospital refused to operate why did you agree to treat her?’

  ‘Because
one of the things I feel most strongly about is that age shouldn’t prevent a person from receiving treatment. Ada is remarkably healthy apart from this problem and it isn’t fair that her quality of life should be ruined because she’s considered too old by some surgeons to undergo an operation.’

  ‘I agree. It’s one of the things that really angers me, too. If a person will benefit from surgery then it should be available to them.’ He sighed because he’d had an uphill struggle in his last post, putting across that view. ‘I’m afraid it usually comes down to economics. Many surgeons refuse to, quote, “waste good money operating on someone who won’t live long enough to appreciate it”.’

  ‘Exactly! It’s an attitude I abhor. Every case should be decided on its own merits and age should never be the deciding factor,’ she agreed, smiling at him.

  ‘Seems we’re in accord on that, at least,’ he said softly, his heart going into raptures when he saw the approval in her beautiful grey eyes.

  ‘So it appears.’ She briskly turned and hurried towards the female changing room but not before Dylan had seen the wash of soft rose colour that had tinted her cheeks. ‘I’ll see you in Theatre, Dr Archer,’ she told him, without looking back.

  ‘Of course.’

  Dylan took a deep breath as the changing-room door shut behind her then let it out very, very slowly. It didn’t help but, then, he hadn’t honestly expected that it would. It would take more than a deep breath to cure this affliction.

  He went into the men’s changing room and stripped off his clothes then slid on a cotton scrub suit. The cotton felt cool against his skin, cool and soft, and he groaned because it made him think about Joanna and how her skin would feel. It would be cool and soft as well but, unlike the cotton, it would also be velvety smooth.

  How he longed to touch her, ached to let his fingers explore her body, and the sheer depth of his desire shocked him because it was way out of proportion to the stage they were at in their relationship. They were two new—very new—colleagues, finding their feet as they worked together, and yet here he was lusting after her like a lover! What the hell was wrong with him? Was he having some kind of a mid-life crisis? Was it possible to have one at his age or did age make absolutely no difference in this situation as it shouldn’t in so many others? He wanted Joanna Martin. He wanted her more than he’d believed it possible to want a woman, and it would have made no difference if he’d been ninety-five instead of thirty-five because he’d still have felt the same!

 

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