with Jo on leave, all decisions on patient care would be down to Kate. Thoughtfully, she placed the first of the X-ray films on the viewing screen.
She turned at the rat-a-tat on her door. ‘It’s open.’
‘Morning, Kate.’ Aiden poked his head in.
Kate felt her composure drain away, her stupid heart bouncing like a trampoline, juggling for space inside her chest. ‘Good morning.’
Aiden breezed in and parked himself on the edge of her desk. ‘I’ve been commissioned to tell you coffee’s up and to twist your arm if necessary.’ He ran teasing blue eyes over her. ‘You’re not a workaholic, are you, Dr Preston?’
Kate brought her small chin up. ‘No more than anyone has to be in a busy practice.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth, exercising gentle pressure, trying anything to sideline her thoughts from savouring the detail of ‘Dr Distraction’, as she’d begun to call him in her head: the way his charcoal-grey shirt accentuated the broad sweep of his shoulders; the narrow hips in his black jeans; the fact that there was a lean athleticism beneath his well-fitting clothes.
Her gaze connected briefly with his clear blue eyes and flicked higher, lingering on his hair, short, toffee brown, spiked with gold, as if naturally streaked by the sun. She guessed his tan was an all-year-round attribute, enhancing the outdoorsy look of him. Well, that figured. Aiden O’Connor was sports mad according to the practice grapevine. Mountain-climbing, snow-boarding and extreme sports positively turned him on—the pursuits Kate had once enjoyed but now had serious reservations about. She released the pressure from her lip and swallowed. O’Connor was possibly the best-looking man she’d ever met. She’d not risked such thinking until now but it was the inescapable truth.
‘So, Kate.’ Aiden slid off his perch to peer over her shoulder. ‘Whose foot do we have here?’ He gestured to the skeletal framework thrown up by the X-ray.
‘Fifty-four-year-old male.’ Kate took a breath to steady herself. ‘He’s a processor worker. Stands on a cement floor for most of his working day. He complained of tenderness in his right instep.’
‘You were thinking of a spur, perhaps?’ The blue eye lit enquiringly.
‘Certainly a possibility.’
Aiden’s mouth went firm for a moment. ‘Well, clearly it’s not a spur from what we have here. No other bony lesion presenting either.’
‘Seems not.’ Kate’s unwilling gaze followed the stroke of his thumb as it moved rhythmically across his bottom lip in concentration. She whipped her gaze back to the viewing screen and told her heart to settle and her sensible head to reassert itself. ‘There are a couple of cysts in the first metatarsal head.’ She indicated the shaded outline. ‘But they shouldn’t present a problem.’
‘No.’ Aiden O’Connor gave a quick smile, the action cutting interesting grooves into his lean cheeks. ‘So, Kate, what treatment will you recommend for your patient?’
Miffed, Kate flicked off the X-ray light. She wasn’t aware she’d asked Dr O’Connor to consult with her. Her thoughts began scrambling. And she felt stifled by his nearness, the intimate whisper of peppermint on his breath.
She blinked, then swallowed, flying into professional jargon. ‘I’d recommend physio as a priority to try to regain some flexibility.’
‘Perhaps a change in the style of his regular work boots or at least some modification could be an option as well. Just suggestions,’ he added quickly, interpreting her less-than-impressed look by holding up his hands defensively. ‘I won’t step on your toes again.’
‘You might if we were dancing,’ Kate deadpanned. She winced inwardly. Had she really said that?
But O’Connor seemed highly amused. ‘Are you inferring I’m a rubbish dancer, Dr Preston?’
‘I don’t know. Are you?’
‘Maybe you’ll find out one day,’ he answered softly.
Kate wished she could control the odd feeling in her chest when he looked at her. What was it about him? Was it the tantalising stirrings of sexual attraction? The allure of possibility? Whatever it was, it felt different from merely the rush of hormones.
And decidedly uncomfortable.
‘We should get this coffee,’ she said stiltedly. ‘They’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.’
He smiled. ‘Let’s tell them we got sidetracked.’
Well, that was one explanation for what had just happened here, Kate thought as she stifled the complexity of her feelings and accompanied him along the corridor to the staffroom.
No doubt, she was a looker. Aiden allowed himself a few lazy seconds to observe Kate anew. She was slender, tallish, matching his stride easily. Her eyes were a deep brown, her skin peach perfect. And she was a natural brunette if he was any judge; hair so shiny he could almost see his face in it.
He shook his head as if impatient with his train of thought. He was staring and he’d better stop. He and Kate were colleagues—nothing more.
‘Welcome to the zoo,’ he said, stretching in front of her to open the door of the staffroom.
Kate’s ‘Good morning’ was met with an answering chorus from the other staff members. Vicki, began pouring coffee into a willow-patterned mug. ‘Kate, white with none, right?’
‘Thanks, Vic.’ Kate smiled. ‘But you don’t have to wait on me.’
‘It’s mandatory on your first day,’ Aiden quipped.
‘What is?’ Angelo’s dark head came up from the journal he was reading.
‘Being nice to Kate on her first day,’ Vicki bubbled. ‘I brought in a chocolate cake as well.’
‘We are blessed.’ Angelo’s dark eyes behind the silver-framed spectacles glinted with dry humour. ‘You’ll be brilliant, Kate,’ he said, getting to his feet, collecting his journal and moving towards the door. ‘Anything you need to consult about, I’m available, as well as Brady and Aiden. Don’t hesitate to call on us.’
‘Thanks, Angelo. I appreciate that.’ Kate took a mouthful of her coffee, feeling it make a warming trail down her throat. They were all being so nice to her.
‘Kate, when you have a second, I’ll need to clarify one or two points on your personnel file, please?’ Monica Lowe, the practice manager, said. ‘Nothing urgent.’ She smiled, dropping a tea bag into a mug.
‘It’ll seem odd without Jo.’ Natalie Wellings, the practice nurse, said thoughtfully. ‘And speaking of your wife, how is she this morning, Brady?’
‘Supposedly taking it easy.’ Brady’s mouth quirked. ‘But she said something about rearranging the nursery and colour co-ordinating the baby stuff on the shelves.’
Vicki, who had a one year old tot herself, joked, ‘As if that’ll last long.’
‘Jo’s nesting,’ Kate came in quietly. ‘I remember feeling just like that before both of mine were born …’
