Intimate Exposure. Simona Taylor

Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Intimate Exposure - Simona Taylor страница 8

Intimate Exposure - Simona Taylor Mills & Boon Kimani

Скачать книгу

so?”

      “Mmm-hmm. They’ve reduced the staff on each shift.”

      “Even in the E.R.?”

      She nodded. “We’re two doctors and three nurses down tonight.”

      Elliot frowned. The hand that was idly playing over his chest fell to his side. “Don’t they know the kind of suffering they’re causing?”

      She rolled her gorgeous green eyes and shrugged. “Money talks, I guess. The administrators aren’t the ones here at two in the morning, having to deal with the mess they’ve created.” She paused, mouth parted in anticipation, waiting on him to commend her for being a good girl.

      His eyes held hers for several seconds longer than necessary. “Thank you, Nurse. I was right—you are very kind.” “Elena.”

      “Pardon?”

      “My name. It’s Elena. I’m on the graveyard shift every night until Wednesday. If you need anything …” She trailed off, not needing to draw him a diagram.

      He released his light grip on her arm and took her hand instead, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you, Elena. I mean that.”

      “If I can slip you guys in a little earlier … well, I’ll see what I can do.” Elena gave her hair one final fluff and backed away, a little self-conscious, giving Shani one hard, curious look before turning and heading in the direction she’d come from.

      “Surprised those scrubs didn’t hit the floor,” Shani murmured.

      He sat next to her again. “What’s that?”

      “Nothing.”

      The smile he gave told her he’d heard exactly what she’d said.

      But Elliot wasn’t satisfied with waiting on little Miss Flirty-pants to fulfill her promise. He fished his phone from his pocket and scrolled one-handed through the numbers. He hit Dial and waited for the other person to answer, giving her a comforting smile.

      Shani watched, amazed. Did he know what time it was?

      “David, it’s Elliot Bookman. Right. Junior. I’m guessing you’re still at my father’s party? Now breaking up, huh?” He waited. “How’s my father? Well, he’ll have a hell of a headache, that’s for sure. Glad you and Maggie had a good time.”

      He cleared his throat. “Listen, David, I need a favor. I’m over at Immaculate Heart. In the E.R. No, it’s a favor for a friend. We’ve got a three-year-old who needs to be seen, right away. Yes, I heard about the budget cuts. But the place is a mess. Think you could make a few calls? Maybe shift some of your staff over from another department? I’m sure it’s quieter over in Medical tonight.”

      Shani tried not to shake her head. Even on the phone, he had a careless charm about him that appealed to both men and women. Did anyone ever tell him no?

      He listened again, nodding. “That’d be great. Bless you, man. Have a good night now, and take care on the road.” He clicked off, smiling as though he’d won a game of chess.

      She didn’t bother trying to stifle her curiosity. “Who was that?”

      “David Carmichael. He’s on the board here. He and my father go way back. Anyhow, he’s going to have a few more staff sent over. The bottleneck will clear up in a while.”

      He was right. In less than twenty minutes, Shani heard her name called. She rose with difficulty, Bee still deadweight in her arms, and turned to Elliot, preparing to thank him and wish him good-night. Already, a small shard of sadness pricked at her. All evening, he’d been as solid and reliable as a load-bearing wall. Now it was time to go in and face the thunder. What did you say to a stranger who helped you save the thing that means the most to you?

      “Elliot, I … I don’t know how to say thanks. I—”

      “Let’s go.” He grabbed her by the elbow and began guiding her past the uneven rows of benches.

      “What? Where’re you—”

      He gave her a surprised look. “Did you think I’d let you go in there alone?”

      She protested. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done, but you really—”

      He didn’t stop walking. “Come on. They’re waiting.” He grabbed his shirt and tossed it over his shoulder like a towel.

      There was no sense in arguing. As he held open the swinging doors, she took one guilty look at the sad people still waiting, sending up a prayer that their troubles would end soon.

      Inside, an older nurse took up most of the entryway. Her expression was standard hospital-issue harassed, hair scraped back into a bun, face like a hatchet. She glanced at the proffered papers and nodded at a gurney. Shani set her burden down carefully, and at once an attendant began to work on Bee.

      “You the mother?” The nurse asked.

      “Yes.”

      “You can stay.”

      Shani moved to her daughter’s side. Elliot moved in concert with her, only to be stopped by the nurse’s imperious, uplifted hand. “Who’re you?”

      “My name’s Elliot—”

      She frowned, noticing for the first time that his chest was bare. Her eyes popped ceilingward in a “you-see-all-types-in-here” gesture, then she clarified. “I mean, what’s your relationship to the patient? Only the parents of a minor are allowed in here.”

      “Oh, I—”

      “So who’re you?”

      Shani found herself desperately wanting Elliot to stay with her in this awful place. “He’s … he’s …” She began and stopped.

      The nurse, as intimidating as a mythical beast guarding treasure, folded her arms. What could she say to get this woman to understand? She half wondered if Elliot’s charm could work on her, too. Bizarrely, even though it would mean his eviction and her abandonment, that almost made her feel satisfied. At least it would mean someone was immune to him.

      Elliot hardly missed a beat. “I’m her father.”

      Shani choked on her own spit.

      The nurse glanced at his face for half a second, then at Bee’s damp, sallow one, and dismissed him with disinterest, pointing the way with her pen. The doors swung open behind them, admitting someone else for her to intimidate.

      Shani felt Elliot close to her, warm skin occasionally brushing her bare arm as they watched the doctor, an older black woman who reassuringly reminded her of Maya Angelou, fiddle with Bee. The woman gave her the first genuine smile she’d had since she got here.

      “Don’t worry, doux-doux. She ees going to be just fine.” She spoke with an accent Shani couldn’t identify. West African? Caribbean? “Just a leetle infection—nothing to make a whole lot of fuss and bother about. We’ll start her on antibiotics right away. And just to be safe, we’ll

Скачать книгу