his sprint. ‘I’m a doctor.’ He hunkered down on the opposite side of Antoine’s legs.
‘Me, too,’ Kristina told him. ‘I was headed for the Poseidon when this happened. Kristina Morton.’ She held her hand out.
His hand gripped hers briefly, firm and electric.
Shock ripped through Kristina. Rubbing her arm, she stared at him. What just happened? He’d sent fire through her veins with a handshake? Unreal. She was supposed to be focused on a man in distress, not this one with the most intriguing face she’d ever encountered.
A startled look was reflected in the dark depths of his eyes, too. Had he felt that spark? ‘Chase Barrington, SARCO.’
Shock of another kind rocked her. This was Chase? The man who caused his family heartache on a regular basis? No one had told her he was hot! ‘I met your sister when I was a locum at Merrywood Medical Centre. I finished a fortnight ago.’ His brother-in-law, Jarrod, was one of the partners there.
‘Libby told me.’ He gave her a sharp look. ‘Bring me up to speed.’ Chase was taking charge.
Typical. She’d worked with enough male doctors in masculine environments to know the signs. ‘There’s a rod intruding into Antoine’s groin that’s attached to the grill. I’m hoping you’ve got morphine in your pack.’
‘Yes, and compression pads.’ Chase nudged the kit with his foot, and focused on the man needing his attention.
Leaving Kristina to get her breath back and stop feeling flustered by Doc Barrington’s touch. She could tell him to get the pads himself, but time was of the essence, not her pride. Finding the morphine, she read the date out loud, gave the vial to her counterpart to cross-reference before drawing up a dose. Once administered, she opened packs of compression pads, ready for the grill to be lifted away.
Chase was methodically checking for further injuries on Antoine’s body without jarring the grill. No wasted movements, his lean body muscular without being heavy. Picture perfect. So not good for her pulse. Deep breath, concentrate—on Antoine, not the SARCO. But he was so distracting. She closed her eyes, opened them and watched.
Without stopping those long fingers moving over Antoine, he told her, ‘Ribs staved in, fractured femur and arm, blood loss from where the humerus protrudes, and I don’t like the look of his mouth. It’s possible he’s bitten his tongue.’ He was good, and thorough. Impressive in more ways than that magnificent body.
She nodded. ‘Let’s do this. The sooner we can get to him the better.’ It was hard not to glance at Chase for another take on those muscles shaping his loose T-shirt but she managed. Looking behind to the men waiting to help, she said, ‘On the count of three lift the grill—very slowly.’
The moment their patient was free she was pressing a pad onto the wound in his groin. ‘The femoral artery’s torn. Is there a catheter in your kit I can put in to keep the blood flow in the artery?’
‘Unfortunately not.’ Chase was gently removing the man’s helmet in preparation for putting a facemask on Antoine for the oxygen. ‘I haven’t got a neck brace either.’
Kristina continued working on the haemorrhaging, making do with what was on hand, but the sooner help arrived in the form of a well-equipped ambulance the better. ‘Has anyone called the emergency services?’
‘Oui,’ replied a man hovering in the background.
Like magic, the sound of a siren filled the air.
Kristina didn’t relax. Antoine wasn’t out of trouble by a long way.
A quick glance showed Chase working as hard, diagnosing all the injuries while keeping an eye on the man’s breathing. There was a determined look on his face that said, I am not letting you die, Antoine. Something they had in common.
But anything else? She doubted it. The little she’d heard from Libby and Jarrod indicated she and Chase were like north and south. She was looking for a place to settle down and feel as though she belonged, a place where she wouldn’t be thrown aside at anyone’s behest, while this man apparently did not have the time or inclination for stopping still. He was driven. Not that she’d been told by what.
The ambulance squealed to a halt beside them. Instantly paramedics were moving in, asking questions in rapid French she didn’t understand. Continuing monitoring their man, she left Chase to answer them.
‘How’s that bleeding?’ he asked her moments later. ‘Still bad?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded around the relief that getting Antoine to hospital fast was now happening, as long as the paramedics didn’t take too long preparing him for the trip there.
‘We’ve done all we can. The paramedics are taking charge,’ Chase said, his hands clenched on his thighs, his jaw tight, and his eyes fixed on the two men as they put a cardboard splint on the broken leg and a brace around their patient’s neck. He wanted to remain in control, was itching to continue working on Antoine.
Kristina knew that feeling but moved back, knowing she would not be thanked for doing anything else. The paramedics knew what they were doing, and were used to working without the luxury of all the equipment an emergency department came with, but couldn’t they get a hurry along? Glancing at Chase again, the same thought was reflected in his steady green gaze.
When Antoine was finally loaded into the ambulance, relief loosened the tension gripping Kristina and she was free to walk away, if only her feet would move. Staring across the now quiet wharf, her gaze fell on the ship she’d be working on for the next three months, sharing the space with a man who had her hormones in a lather already. She’d be toast by the end of her time on board.
It had been Jarrod who’d suggested she do a spell with Medicine For All, instead of taking on the locum job in the far north of Scotland she’d been half-heartedly considering.
Watching men and women walking up the gangway laden with heavy packs for the start of the next three-week stint, tiredness enveloped her. She was weary of constantly moving from place to place, locum position to locum position, and not having somewhere of her own to return to after each contract finished. MFA was merely another diversion. It was harder this time because she’d finally found what she’d been looking for.
The quaint town of Merrywood and its friendly folk had sucked her in, made her welcome and comfortable in a way she hadn’t known since she was ten and her family had imploded, leaving her bewildered and alone. She’d wanted to stay on, continue working at the medical centre and buy a cottage on the riverbank, only there was no job once the doctor she’d been covering for returned. However, Jarrod had told her to stay in touch and drop in when her time with MFA was up as he might know of a position for her. She planned on doing exactly that, fingers crossed and expectations high.
‘Time to go aboard and meet everyone.’ Chase stood beside her, legs tense, his eyes constantly on the move.
‘I’m looking forward to this.’ The organisation did amazing work with refugees and other people in need of medical attention in horrific parts of the world, and to be a part of it was awesome. And in case Jarrod didn’t come up with the goods, she’d have time to research small towns and medical centres in the south of England in the hope of finding that same enticing family-orientated atmosphere she’d found in Merrywood.
Why did she look to the man beside
