a week or more?
‘And how many times did you have to pick her up heartbroken in the middle of the night?’
‘Once.’ Not strictly true. But he was beginning to look too smug. There was a lot not to like. He was too handsome and too sure of himself. And she didn’t like that look on his face—as if he knew something she didn’t.
‘Jill is a really good friend of mine. She helped me when I needed it most. Make no mistake about where my loyalty lies, Gabriel.’
Those words didn’t even touch what Jill had done for her. When her father had died, Jill had dropped everything and flown straight up from London to Glasgow. She’d organised the funeral, dealt with the post-mortem, sorted out the insurance and the contents of the house—all things that Francesca couldn’t possibly have dealt with. Jill had been her rock.
In the past their relationship had always felt uneven, as if Francesca was constantly running after Jill and taking care of her. But when the chips had been down Jill had more than risen to the challenge. Francesca couldn’t have got through it without her.
‘How long are you here for?’
‘I haven’t even done my first shift and you’re trying to get rid of me?’
She shrugged.
‘As long as I want. I took this job at short notice—someone had broken their contract—so I was pretty much offered what I wanted. It’s up to me to decide how long I want to stay.’
Great. Who knew how long she would be stuck with him? ‘You didn’t answer the original question. Why would a billionaire doc like you want to be working on a cruise ship?’
He waved his hand dismissively. ‘Family stuff.’
It was the first interesting thing he’d said.
Yip. The walls in the room were definitely closing in on her. This was her worst nightmare. Working with this man every day was going to play havoc with her senses and her principles. She hated the fact that under other circumstances she might like him. She hated the fact she’d almost flirted with him.
‘I know you’ll have some clean uniforms in your quarters but how about putting these on right now?’ She pointed to the scrubs. She wrinkled her nose at the ruined jacket and T-shirt, still in his hand. ‘I don’t care how good the laundry staff are here, they’re not going to be able to save those.’
Gabriel stood up, his legs feeling firmer than before. He hadn’t even considered his appearance. The pristine white uniform he was holding was covered in remnants of brown sludge. His body hadn’t fared much better. From the port wall perhaps? She was right, no matter what the TV adverts pretended to show, no washing powder on the planet could sort this out.
He grabbed the towel to rub his hair, momentarily forgetting the reason he was there and wincing as the edge of the towel caught his wound.
‘Easy, tiger.’ Francesca pushed him down onto the edge of the bed. ‘Let me do that.’ She took the towel from his hands and gently dried around the edges.
‘Stop fussing,’ he muttered, trying to swat her hand away. ‘I need a shower.’
Francesca was doing her best to push her anger aside. She had a job to do. Whether she liked him or not, he was a patient—one she’d just resuscitated and with a head injury. She was a good nurse. This was straightforward. She could do this. ‘Right now I’m in charge—not you. You can go in the shower when I say so.’ She stuck a tympanic thermometer in his ear. ‘I’m going to do a full set of neurological observations on you, then clean that head wound and either glue or stitch it.’ She glanced at the reading on the thermometer. ‘You’re still cold. We’re going to heat you up a bit first.’ She pulled a blanket from one of the nearby cupboards.
Gabriel sighed. At least she was an efficient nurse, even if she was smart-mouthed and hated his guts. ‘Where’s Dr Marsh?’
She peered around the edge of the door. ‘He and Katherine are dealing with the teenager. Children get priority. I’m sure you’d agree with that.’
The child, of course. What was he thinking? There was a child to be attended to. ‘I should go and check him over.’ He tried to push his blanket off, but she laid her hand firmly on his shoulder.
The constricting feeling across his chest was almost instant. Paediatrics—children were his whole reason for being a doctor. There was no way he’d watch a child suffer. He couldn’t stand the thought that there was a child in the next room requiring attention while he was being pushed onto a bed.
It made him feel useless. It pushed him into dark places imprinted on his mind. Memories of long ago. Of a child with a scream that sent shivers down his spine. Feelings he’d spent his whole professional career trying to avert.
He pushed himself off the bed again.
‘Gabriel.’
Her face was right in front of his, her large brown eyes looking him straight on and her voice firm.
‘Ryan is fine. David Marsh is more than capable of looking after a shocked teenager. Maybe—just maybe—if we were resuscitating him, like we did with you, I might let you go and assist. But this isn’t an emergency situation. You’re not needed. You’re not even officially on duty. Right now you’re a patient, not a doctor. And a cranky one at that. You’d better hope that your head injury is making you cranky because if that’s your normal temperament you won’t last five minutes in here.
She was right. The rational part of his brain that was still functioning knew she was right. But his heart was ruling his head. He was cursing himself for not paying more attention to the port wall. He shouldn’t have dived straight in, he should have taken a few more seconds to get his bearings. Then maybe he could have protected Ryan and stopped him from slipping from his arms.
They could hear rapid chatter next door. She obviously didn’t realise his background in paediatrics. It was hardly surprising. Six years ago he’d been just about to pick his speciality and he’d dumped Jill before he’d made his final choice.
‘You should stay where you are. I’m going to attach you to a monitor for a few hours. You, sir, are going to do exactly as I say—whether you like it or not.’ She pulled the wires from the nearby monitor. ‘I’m not the pushover Jill was,’ she murmured.
Gabriel felt a weight settle on his chest again. For a second he’d seen a little glimpse of humour from her. For a second he’d thought maybe she didn’t hate him quite as much as it seemed. This was the last thing he needed—some smart-mouthed nurse with a load of preconceived ideas him. How close was she to Jill? Hopefully she didn’t have any of the same tendencies—that could be disastrous.
Every part of his body was beginning to ache and if he didn’t get something for this headache soon he was going to erupt.
It was almost as if she’d read his mind. ‘I’ll give you something for your headache in a few moments. I want to have a clear baseline set of neuro obs and I can’t give you anything too strong—I don’t want to dull your senses.’ There was a hint of humour in her voice, the implication that his senses were already dulled crystal clear.
It was just about as much as he could take.
‘Enough
