was quick—as quick as he could be without neglecting the patient’s interests—and then, reminding himself that he wasn’t the only doctor on duty and he needed a break if he was to be of any real use for the rest of his shift, he walked determinedly past a crying child in the next cubicle, past a nurse carrying a set of notes who tried to hail him, and into the staffroom.
Sally was in there with her back to him, bending over to retrieve something from a cupboard, and he was treated to the curve of her bottom and a peep of slender legs when her skirt rode up as she turned towards him.
The coffee’s run out,’ she said in disgust. ‘Will tea do?’
‘Tea’s fine,’ he assured her, wondering if he was going to make a public disgrace of himself and dragging his eyes from the long sweep of her thigh. She straightened, to his simultaneous relief and disappointment, and started clattering mugs about.
‘So, how are things going?’ she asked over her shoulder.
He went closer, just to be near her, to stand within range of the scent of her skin and feel the warmth from her body.
Not that he was cold—far from it. ‘Things are going fine,’ he murmured, and she jumped and whirled round.
‘Do you have to creep up on me?’ she said crossly, and to his delight she looked flustered—flustered and every bit as beautiful as she ever had. He smiled.
‘Sorry—just coming to get my mug from you,’ he said innocently.
She made a noise under her breath that could have been anything but was probably disgust, and stuck a mug in his hand. ‘White, no sugar, not too much milk—that right still?’
She remembers, he thought, and felt a stab of regret. ‘Yes, that’s right still,’ he said softly. Grabbing a handful of biscuits from the tin she offered him, he retreated to the other side of the room, dropped into a comfy chair and crossed one ankle over the other knee to give his feelings a little privacy.
He’d been too busy earlier to react, but now, with this little homely act, she’d brought back a whole host of memories he really didn’t have the time to deal with.
‘So how’ve you been?’ he asked in what he hoped was a level voice, and she shrugged and smiled brightly. Too brightly.
‘Oh, fine. Busy. You?’
He shrugged. ‘So-so. Busy, like you. Too busy, really.’
‘Is that why you’re here, in the country, looking for a change of pace?’ she asked, a touch of disapproval in her voice. ‘If so, I hate to disappoint you but we run flat out all day and all night. Even country bumpkins have accidents.’
He gave a soft, wry laugh. ‘Is that what you think? That I’m looking for a quiet life? I haven’t altered that much.’
Her eyes scanned him almost guiltily, and she looked away. ‘No, I don’t suppose you have,’ she said, and her voice sounded gruff and a little taut.
‘Anyway,’ he said, just to make the point, ‘I’ve been working in country hospitals for years now, so it’s hardly a change of pace.’
‘No.’ She stood up, put a little cold water in her tea from the tap and drained it, then all but dropped the mug on the worktop in her haste. ‘I have to get on. I’ll see you later.’
‘What are you doing after work?’ he asked impulsively, stopping her in her tracks.
Slowly, as if she was giving herself time, she turned towards him. ‘Nothing,’ she said clearly. ‘Either with you, or anyone else.’
And she turned on her heel and walked away.
He gave a slow smile. It was a putdown, without a shadow of a doubt, but it had failed. ‘Either with you, or anyone else,’ she’d said, and that left the smile on his face, because if there was one thing he didn’t want to do, it was tread on someone else’s toes and upset things for her if she’d got her life on track.
And if she wasn’t doing anything with anyone else, then from where he was sitting right now that was a definite plus.
But progress, he thought with a laughing sigh, was clearly going to be measured in microns …
‘Why, oh, why, oh why—?’
‘Sally?’
She looked up at Ryan, standing beside her and eyeing her quizzically. ‘Hi, there,’ she said brightly. ‘Problem?’
‘Not me,’ he said, his eyes all too perceptive. ‘It was you I was worried about. Are you OK?’
‘Me? Of course,’ she lied.
‘Just wondered. You looked a little poleaxed earlier. It just occurred to me that you and Nick might have had something going once. I hope it won’t be a problem.’
‘No problem,’ she assured him with false cheer, and wondered if it could possibly be true or if it was going to be, as she suspected, a living nightmare until he moved on again. Perhaps it was time to take some in-service training—in Alaska or somewhere. Maybe Ryan could recommend a nice, remote Canadian hospital—
‘Just wondering, that’s all,’ Ryan murmured. ‘You want to talk to me, you know where to find me.’
‘Ryan, thanks, but I’m fine. It was over years ago, and it was nothing much anyway,’ she assured him, and wondered why God didn’t strike her down for such a whopper.
Or maybe it was the truth, and it really had been nothing much, only she’d been too lovestruck and besotted to realise it.
With a sharp sigh, she snatched up the next set of notes, shot through the cubicles and went out to the heaving waiting room. With any luck she’d be able to avoid him for the rest of the day. She scanned the crowd.
‘Mrs Johnson? Can you come through, please?’
Luck wasn’t on her side that day. A scant hour later, Sally stuck her head round the corner of the cubicle where Nick was working and beckoned him.
‘Could I have a quick word, Dr Baker?’ she murmured.
‘Sure. Excuse me a moment.’
He stood up and ducked through the curtain, raising a brow quizzically. ‘Problem?’
‘I will have. There’s an attempted suicide coming in,’ she told him quietly. ‘Young woman who’s thrown herself out of a third-floor window—facial and pelvic injuries. Ryan’s gone to a meeting, Matt’s on holiday and the new SHO is so wet behind the ears I daren’t trust him with a Band-Aid.’
He grinned, sending her off kilter again, and nodded. ‘I’ll get this one sorted out and come through to Resus. Five minutes?’
‘Maximum.’
‘OK. Get the mobile X-ray in there with a radiographer, and call an anaesthetist in case we have airway problems.’
‘Done it.’
‘Good
