waggled them in her face and she tried not to notice how utterly masculine they looked. Not exactly the delicate hands people usually associated with a surgeon.
Those hands had worked magic on hundreds of patients. But it wasn’t quite the same kind of magic she was imagining now.
Anouk blinked hard and tried to drag her mind back to the present.
‘That’s as may be, but I don’t think it’s your mince pies they’re interested in.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. They’re pretty good, if I do say so myself.’
‘So modest.’ She snorted. ‘Well, if you’ve stopped playing Great British Bake-Off with your home-made mince pies...’
‘“Playing Great British Bake-Off”?’ He flashed a wolfish smile, which made her skin positively goosebump. ‘I would ask if you’re passive aggressive with everyone, or if it’s just me, but, given the reputation you’ve already garnered amongst your colleagues in the few months you’ve been here, I fear I already know the answer.’
She shouldn’t take the bait. She mustn’t.
‘And what reputation would that be?’ she demanded, regretting it instantly.
His eyes gleamed mischievously. She half expected him not to answer her.
‘Focussed, dedicated, a good doctor.’
‘Oh.’ She bit her lip. ‘Well...then...thanks.’
‘Even if you do walk around like you’ve got a stick up your behind.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Heat flooded her cheeks. She could feel it.
‘Sorry.’ He held his hands up as though appeasing her. ‘Their words, not mine. But you have to admit, you are a little bit uptight. A little prim and proper.’
She opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it closed again.
If she was honest, she’d heard worse about herself. At best, she was considered to be a good—even great—doctor to her patients, but cold and unapproachable to her colleagues. A bit aloof.
The only person who knew different was Saskia; her best friend since their Hollywood A-list mothers had declared each other their nemesis, over twenty-five years ago.
‘Of course, I don’t think that,’ Sol continued, clearly enjoying himself. Not that she blamed him—he couldn’t have any idea of her inner turmoil. ‘But then, most women have a way of...melting around me.’
‘How do you get away with that?’ She shook her head. ‘Do you actually enjoy living up to all the worst stereotypes of your own Lothario reputation?’
‘Let me guess, in your book that’s wrong?’
‘Oh, you’re incorrigible,’ Anouk snapped. ‘Though I assume you’ll take that as a compliment.’
‘You mean it wasn’t?’ He clasped his hand over his heart, laughing. ‘I’m cut to the quick.’
A deep, rich, sinful sound, which had no right to flood through her the way it did. She hated how her body reacted to him, despite every order from her brain to do the opposite. Tipping her head back, she jutted her chin out a fraction and ignored him.
‘All we know so far is that we have a seven-year-old on her way having fallen approximately nine feet off a climbing frame in a park...’
‘She landed on her head and suffered loss of consciousness for a minute or so,’ he concluded. ‘The heli-med team are on the roof now and our response team has gone to meet them.’
‘Right.’ She didn’t do a very good job of covering her surprise. ‘So, if you could just stop making eyes at the female contingent of our team long enough to concentrate on the casualty, that would be great.’
The amusement disappeared from his face in a split second. His tone was more than a little cool.
‘I always put my patients ahead of anything else.’
She actually felt chastened.
‘Yes... I... I know that.’ Anouk flicked out a tongue to moisten her lips. ‘I apologise, and I take it back. Your professional reputation is faultless.’
Better than faultless. He was an esteemed neurosurgeon, rapidly heading to the top of his field.
‘It’s just my personal reputation that languishes in muddier waters?’ he asked, apparently reading her thoughts.
But at least the smile was back, his previous disapproval seemingly forgotten. Still, Anouk was grateful when the doors at the far end of the trauma area pulled open with a hiss and the helicopter team brought their patient in.
In an instant, Anouk was across the room and in the Resus bay, vaguely aware that Sol had fallen in quickly beside her.
‘This is Isobel, she’s seven years old and normally fit and well. No allergies or medications, and up to date with her jabs. Around one hour ago she was climbing on a rope basket climbing frame and was approximately nine feet up when she had an altercation with another child and fell, landing on her face or head with a loss of consciousness of perhaps one minute. She has a laceration above her left eyebrow and she has also lost two of her teeth.’
‘Okay.’ Anouk nodded, stepping forward. ‘Thanks.’
‘This is Isobel’s sister, Katie.’ The doctor turned to where another young girl was standing, and Anouk didn’t know when Sol had moved but he was next to her. ‘Katie was with her sister when she fell, and has accompanied her whilst Mum is on her way.’
Strangely, Katie lifted her head to Sol and offered a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head, but Anouk didn’t have time to dwell on that; she needed to help her patient.
‘Hi, Isobel, I’m Anouk, the doctor who is going to be looking after you. Do you remember what happened, sweetheart?’ She turned to her team, who had already stepped into action. ‘Two drips in, guys?’
Isobel muttered something incoherent.
‘Can you open your eyes for me, Isobel?’ Anouk asked, checking her young patient’s pupils. ‘Good, that’s a good girl. Now, can you take a really big, deep breath and hold it for me?’
She palpitated the girl’s chest and stomach.
‘You’re doing really well, sweetheart. Can you talk to me? Have you got any pain in your tummy?’
‘No,’ Isobel managed tearfully. ‘Katie?’
‘Your sister is right here, my love. We just need to check you over to see if you hurt yourself when you fell, and then she’ll be able to come and talk to you.’
‘Yep, got blood,’ one of her team confirmed.
‘Great. Okay, and let’s give her two point five milligrams of morphine.’ She looked back at the child. ‘That will help with the pain, all right, sweetheart?
