bright blue eyes sparkling with just a hint of recklessness.
‘You lost a lot of blood and you’ve just undergone major surgery. Protocol dictates that we need to keep a close eye on you for the next twenty-four hours.’
‘Whose protocol?’ he challenged.
‘The hospital’s insurance company and your team’s.’
‘I thought as much.’
‘ICU is not such a bad place to recuperate for a few days. It’s much more secure than any of the other beds, including the private rooms on the general wards. I’m guessing there may be quite a bit of interest in your story and at least we can keep journalists at bay while you’re with us.’
Ruby’s curiosity was piqued. She had always been a sucker for anything with a hint of difference, be it a job, a situation or, more often than not, a man. She listened with interest, waiting for further details but was left disappointed.
‘Fair enough. I won’t make a fuss for a day or two but I’m not a great one for standing still.’
‘I think you’ve managed to solve that problem for a while at least. You won’t be going too far at all on that broken leg.’
It went quiet in the cubicle next door and Ruby saw the nurse move on to the patient on the other side. She opened the novel and started to read but she could hear her words weren’t flowing. Her mind was distracted, fixated on the motorbike man. Who was he? And why would the media be interested in him?
She forced herself to keep reading. She couldn’t worry about a stranger in the bed next door. She tried choosing some of her favourite scenes, ones that showed the heroine’s sense of humour, but she found herself constantly looking at Rose, waiting for a response from her, expecting to see a smile or a hint of laughter but, of course, there was nothing. Unrealistically, she’d been hoping for a miracle, hoping the story would trigger a response, and it was difficult to continue without even a flicker of encouragement from Rose.
Ruby closed the book.
‘Hello? Are you still there?’
Ruby frowned. She recognised the voice. Deep and quiet, it was the motorbike man. ‘Are you talking to me?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Do you think you could keep reading?’
Her frown deepened. ‘You want to listen to a romance novel written in the nineteenth century?’
‘Romance? I thought it was a comedy.’
His comment made her smile. She’d always enjoyed the unexpected humour in this book too.
‘But it’s not the content … I like the sound of your voice,’ he said simply. ‘I could listen to you read the phone book.’
Ruby laughed and opened the book again. If the motorbike man could make her laugh when she really didn’t feel like it, she figured he deserved a favour. ‘If it’s all the same, I’ll stick with Jane Austen,’ she said.
She picked up from where she’d stopped but this time the words flowed far more smoothly. She lost track of time as she turned the pages, only stopping when the nurse interrupted to do Rose’s obs.
Ruby took a moment to stretch her legs. At least, that was what she told herself she was doing when she stood and wandered into the cubicle next door. She wanted to know why the motorbike man was in the ICU and she was going to ask him. He’d been very quiet while she’d been reading—she’d half expected some interruptions but she’d heard nothing from him—but now she saw why.
He was asleep.
Her eyes swept over his face. His cheekbones were wide and his nose was perfectly straight and narrow, flaring ever so slightly where it ended just above full lips. His eyebrows and lashes were a shade darker than his hair and she could see the beginnings of a darker beard on his jaw. A couple of little scars marked his face, one below his eye, another on his lip, but they did nothing to detract from his looks. His dark blond hair framed his face but one stray strand lay across his cheek. Ruby was tempted to reach out and brush it away but she was afraid of waking him. He looked like he was sleeping comfortably and she didn’t want to disturb him.
He had a face she suspected she could look at for hours but she could hear the nurse’s footsteps moving around Rose’s bed. Ruby ducked out of the cubicle before she was caught being somewhere she had no business to be.
Monday, 15th December
Sitting by Rose’s bed wasn’t achieving anything. Ruby had spent the whole day in ICU and nothing had changed for the better.
The doctors had confirmed that Rose had pneumococcal meningitis but if anyone expected a diagnosis to make a difference they were disappointed. Rose’s condition hadn’t improved and the doctors were now worried about her declining kidney function as a result of the blood poisoning. Her condition and treatment remained the same and the family just sat and waited for a sign, for anything, to indicate that she was recovering.
Ruby had chatted to Scarlett, Jake and her mother when they’d all been at Rose’s bedside and when she and Rose had been alone she’d read to her and kept one ear peeled for the sound of the voice of the motorbike man next door, the man with the devilish grin and the voice like distant thunder, but it seemed he wasn’t in a talkative mood today.
There was a lot more activity in the ICU and Ruby knew that there wasn’t a moment when they were alone but she was disappointed he hadn’t even tried to strike up a conversation with her. By the end of the day she had learned nothing further about him. She still didn’t know who he was and he’d had no visitors, not a single one. He’d had no one to talk to other than the doctors and nurses and Ruby hadn’t learnt anything interesting from them.
Where was his family? Where were the people who cared about him?
She supposed she could have asked him, should have asked him, but whenever she had gone in or out of Rose’s cubicle there had been one of the medical staff with him and she hadn’t been able to do more than smile at him.
She should have tried harder. She should have worked on her timing but she was nervous, which was something quite out of character for her. Holding back was not in her nature. Normally, if she wanted something, whether it was information or an introduction, she would make it happen. But the butterflies that took flight in her stomach whenever they made eye contact were enough to make her hesitate.
If they’d been in a social setting she would have walked straight up to him so perhaps it was the fact that he was at a disadvantage physically that made her hesitant. He didn’t know that she’d stood at his bedside the night before and watched him sleep. She thought that might freak him out so she was keeping her distance. He had no way of getting away from her if she encroached on his personal space. He wouldn’t be able to avoid her and she hated to think that she wouldn’t know if he was pleased with her attention or not. She didn’t want him to feel obligated to be nice to her just because he was confined to a bed.
She didn’t consider that he could easily be blunt and tell her to leave him alone—something about the way he smiled at her made her think he wouldn’t be rude, but she didn’t want to put him in an awkward position. So she said nothing.
* * *
By late afternoon
