Top-Notch Men!. Anne Fraser

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Top-Notch Men! - Anne Fraser Mills & Boon By Request

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      She came in and found him taking two cups of coffee off a tray, the fragrant aroma instantly teasing her nostrils.

      ‘Quite a day,’ he said, handing her a cup. ‘Do you take milk or sugar?’

      She shook her head. ‘No, straight up is fine.’

      Joel waited until she sat down before he took his chair behind his desk. His dark chocolate gaze connected with hers, the edge of his mouth tilted slightly. ‘I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve asked you to see me after what occurred between us last night.’

      Allegra felt her colour rise but there was nothing she could do to stop it. ‘As you said during the course of that … er … unfortunate conversation, we were two tired, overworked people, having a drink.’

      There was a surprising level of warmth in his gaze as it held hers. ‘Yes, that’s true, but I still thought I should apologise, for being so …’ He seemed to be hunting for a suitable word so she supplied it for him.

      ‘Overbearing?’

      He gave a soft chuckle of laughter, the sound of it sending a river of tiny feathery sensations down Allegra’s spine. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his whole face softened, the tension and guardedness she was so used to seeing there now completely gone.

      ‘I’ve been described as a lot of things in the past but “overbearing” is a first,’ he said.

      She arched one of her brows sceptically. ‘Really? I’m surprised.’

      His smile faded a little and he put down his cup. ‘Look, Allegra, I know we haven’t had a great start to our working relationship but I wanted to apologise for my part in last night’s … er … unfortunate conversation, as you called it. I have no intention of speaking to Patrick Naylor about you. From what I’ve seen, you are a very competent anaesthetist with a high level of compassion for patients.’

      ‘Thank you …’

      ‘However, I did want to advise you about your handling of Keith Lowe.’

      Allegra felt herself stiffen. ‘Oh?’

      ‘He’s still in shock over what’s happened. Also, I don’t think he’s the touchy-feely sort. A lot of men aren’t. I was watching from bed four. He seemed very stiff and uncomfortable at touching the child.’

      She frowned at him. ‘So what are you saying?’

      ‘I think it would be wise to go slowly with him in regard to your coma recovery plan. Somehow Keith Lowe doesn’t strike me as a man who would be comfortable singing lullabies to his kid, no matter what the circumstances.’

      ‘I wasn’t thinking along the lines of lullabies, but I do think it’s important Mr Lowe speaks to his son at the very least.’

      ‘True. I agree. But the man’s trying to come to terms with the as yet unanswered question of whether or not his wife tried to do herself in and take the child with her. To make matters worse, Kate is one bed away. He’s edgy and very uncomfortable.’

      ‘You think we should move her—maybe to one of the isolation rooms?’

      Joel drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment. ‘It’s a thought … but, no, I think the transfer might be interpreted the wrong way. The father’s already agreed Tommy might benefit from having his mother nearby.’

      ‘Even though she tried to kill him?’

      His eyes came back to hers. ‘We don’t know that. It could have been an accident.’

      ‘You mean, straight driving under the influence?’ she said. ‘Driving with point one alcohol in the blood is hardly responsible behaviour for anyone, let alone a mother with a small child in the car.’

      ‘Look, I know I brought up the suspicions in the first place, but it’s probably wise not to make any judgements until we have more facts.’

      ‘But Mr Lowe said she had a history of depression and he immediately assumed she’d been drinking, as if it was a regular occurrence.’

      ‘Lots of people suffer periods of depression without trying to take their own or other’s lives,’ he pointed out.

      ‘So why did you order a drug test? You must be more than a little suspicious.’

      He let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I just thought it best to make sure either way.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘The results should be in now.’

      ‘What do you think they’ll show?’

      ‘One would assume she’s been taking her antidepressant, so that will show up—but at what level? And any other drugs—sedatives, tranquillisers. Maybe she took a cocktail of things.’ He reached for the telephone and dialled the pathology department.

      Allegra sipped her coffee and listened as he discussed the results with the lab.

      ‘That high, huh? Both of them?’ He raised his brows at Allegra. ‘Yeah, I guess so. Right, thanks for speeding it through. The police will want a copy. I’ll get them to contact you themselves—they may have their own questions.’

      He put the phone down and sent Allegra a grave look. ‘Mrs Lowe was on a cocktail of three drugs. Paroxetine at five times the maximum therapeutic level, diazepam at a high level and traces of codeine.’

      ‘So she was really serious about doing it properly,’ she said, starting to chew at her bottom lip.

      ‘Looks more like it now.’

      Allegra’s frown increased. ‘That’s three drugs. You said “both of them”. What exactly did you mean by that?’

      ‘I wasn’t referring to the number of drugs. I had the lab examine the boy’s blood as well. It now seems that he had detectable diazepam as well, but not as high as hers.’

      ‘What! She sedated the boy first?’ she gasped in shock.

      ‘That’s what it looks like. Hard to believe someone would do such a thing, but it’s not the first time a parent has taken things to such extremes.’

      ‘It’s just so awful to think that if that car hadn’t been behind them they would have died for sure …’ she said, staring down at her hands.

      ‘Maybe it was meant to happen this way.’

      She looked up at that. ‘What? Don’t tell me the incredibly scientific Dr Joel Addison actually believes in something as metaphysical as destiny?’

      He leaned back in his chair and studied her for a lengthy moment before asking, ‘What have you got planned for the rest of the evening?’

      She gave him a startled look. ‘Planned?’

      ‘After you finish work,’ he said. ‘What have you got planned?’

      ‘Um … well, nothing really. I should do some washing, I guess. My machine broke down and my shifts have made it impossible for me to be there

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