Книга - The Shy Nurse’s Rebel Doc

The Shy Nurse's Rebel Doc
Alison Roberts


From playing it safe…To falling for her rebel boss!In this Bondi Bay Heroes story, ER nurse Samantha Braithwaite has learnt never to put limits on herself. But working with Dr Blake Cooper is her biggest challenge yet. He thinks she’s shy, but that makes her determined to prove she can make the Special Disaster Response team. And as days spill into nights the chemistry they’ve tried to hide is about to explode!







From playing it safe...

To falling for her rebel boss!

In this Bondi Bay Heroes story, ER nurse Samantha Braithwaite has learnt never to put limits on herself. But working with Dr. Blake Cooper is her biggest challenge yet. He thinks she’s shy, but that makes her more determined to prove she can make the Specialist Disaster Response team. And as days spill into nights, the chemistry they’ve tried to hide is about to explode!


ALISON ROBERTS is a New Zealander, currently lucky enough to be living in the south of France. She is also lucky enough to write for the Mills & Boon Medical Romance line. A primary school teacher in a former life, she is now a qualified paramedic. She loves to travel and dance, drink champagne, and spend time with her daughter and her friends.


Also by Alison Roberts (#u35b4eb81-ee96-58ab-a439-b20149699f14)

Sleigh Ride with the Single Dad

The Doctor’s Wife for Keeps

Twin Surprise for the Italian Doc

Bondi Bay Heroes collection

The Shy Nurse’s Rebel Doc

Finding His Wife, Finding a Son by Marion Lennox

And look out for the next two books

Healed by Her Army Doc by Meredith Webber Rescued by Her Mr Right

Available September 2018

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


The Shy Nurse’s Rebel Doc

Alison Roberts






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-07523-7

THE SHY NURSE’S REBEL DOC

© 2018 Alison Roberts

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For Linda and Meredith, with much love.


Contents

Cover (#u01701f32-951a-5241-9b94-14113f331848)

Back Cover Text (#u2f80ccfe-1186-58d2-9918-236c028a4f63)

About the Author (#u3b1cf96d-60a2-5546-a759-acfe59d91266)

Booklist (#u81e69c19-1e13-5bd2-b019-816a70bd2ddd)

Title Page (#u21d465d3-554c-5ce1-9ac0-8e254abd0c8b)

Copyright (#ube9fc3e4-908f-5791-9d19-189794068417)

Dedication (#uc6c20c83-ef40-5616-ae98-c057c0558287)

CHAPTER ONE (#u1c8d097d-15c3-55c0-8d91-250c06a81d3f)

CHAPTER TWO (#u46cf6129-b8c6-57e4-89c4-d0af37e9cc04)

CHAPTER THREE (#ua605f4d9-605b-525d-aaf1-0e0bed91af7b)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u35b4eb81-ee96-58ab-a439-b20149699f14)

IT BLINDSIDED HIM.

Blake Cooper had just swung himself off his motorbike in his allotted ED staff parking space at Sydney’s Bondi Bayside Hospital and flipped up his visor. He should have been easing off his helmet, now, and reaching for the worn leather satchel in the side pannier but he wasn’t moving at all. His fingers felt like they were stuck to the sides of his helmet and his eyes were just as stuck.

On that car...

A gleaming, vintage MG roadster.

Red.

Of course it was red. It was a giant Dinky toy, come to life.

His toy.

And, there he was. Five years old again. Finding that shoebox full of treasure at the bottom of the carton of kitchen junk his mother had bought for virtually nothing from the charity shop clearance sale. There’d been more than a dozen of the tiny pre-loved metal vehicles but his absolute favourite had been that little red MG roadster, even if it did have chipped paint and a missing wheel. He could almost feel the sharp edges of it in his hand right now, as his fingers curled into a fist—the way they had back then, as they clutched the toy hidden in his pocket, whenever something important was happening. Like when he had to change schools. Or when the big boys on the block were following him home...

Blake dismissed the memory of that fear with a soft snort. His upbringing had had its advantages because he wasn’t afraid of anything now.

And this real-life toy wasn’t anything like his miniature version. Someone must have spent a fortune restoring it. He’d bet it had a completely new motor now, and that soft, red leather upholstery certainly wasn’t original. A new staff member, perhaps? Or a visiting consultant who had the means to indulge a pricey hobby? The idea of spending huge amounts of money purely for pleasure was distasteful but he wasn’t going to allow that to tarnish a memory that had been a poignant reminder of something very special. It became so much more muted when you were an adult, that bolt of sheer happiness that life could deliver something so amazing. When you could find real treasure so unexpectedly.

He pulled his helmet off. He was tucking it under his arm when the soft, early morning air around him, still blurred with those long-ago memories, was shattered by a sound that lifted the hairs on the back of his neck.

A scream of pure terror.

‘Help...oh, God... Help...’

It was coming from the adjoining public car park. Blake’s helmet bounced, unseen, off the asphalt behind him. He vaulted over the dividing fence with only a touch of his hand to boost him. The heels of his cowboy-style boots beat a tattoo on the hard surface as he ran towards the terrible sound. His peripheral vision caught the movement of others coming in the same direction but he was there first. The young woman standing beside the opened back door of her car didn’t appear to be injured or unwell. She just looked petrified.

‘What is it? What’s happened?’

The question was redundant a split second later, because he could see into the back seat of the car now. Into the baby seat. He could see the blue lips of a baby who wasn’t breathing.

The safety harness was already undone and it was easy to lift the infant with his hands under its armpits, his fingers supporting the head. Sometimes, being moved suddenly could be enough to restart breathing but Blake could feel how unresponsive this baby was as he stepped back from the car. He dropped to his knees and cradled the baby in his arms, tilting the head back to ensure the airway was open as he covered the tiny nose and mouth with his lips as he delivered a rescue breath.

And then another. He could see the chest rising so he knew that the airway wasn’t obstructed but there was still no response. With two fingers positioned on the centre of the baby’s chest he began rapid compressions. A few seconds later, he paused to deliver another two breaths.

Other people had arrived now.

‘What happened?’

‘How long since he stopped breathing?’

The mother was sobbing. ‘I knew there was something wrong, that’s why I was bringing him here but I thought he’d...that he’d just fallen asleep... It was just before I turned into the car park...’

‘Should I go and get a resus trolley?’

It was a nurse he knew very well who was asking the question. Harriet Collins worked in the intensive care unit but she was also a founding member of the Specialist Disaster Response team that was a big part of Blake’s life as well.

Blake had filled the baby’s lungs with air again and lifted his head to answer Harriet as he started another set of compressions but then he paused for a second. He could feel the difference beneath his hands. The tension of muscles contracting as the baby took a breath on its own.

And then another.

Blake got to his feet with the baby still in his arms. ‘No trolley,’ he told Harriet. ‘The sooner we get inside the better.’

He was already taking off, heading towards the nearest entrance to the emergency department through the ambulance bay. He could have this baby in their well-equipped resuscitation area in less than a minute if he ran.

He heard the despairing wail of the baby’s mother behind him but Harriet was onto it. A swift glance back showed her putting an arm around the still terrified mother’s shoulders. ‘Come with us,’ he heard her say. ‘Dr Cooper knows what he’s doing, I promise. He’s the best...’

He also heard the mother’s response.

‘But he doesn’t even look like a doctor...’

* * *

‘So this is your first day here, dear?’

‘Yes, it is, Mrs Henderson.’

‘Oh, call me Dottie, dear. Everyone does, you know.’

‘Okay, Dottie.’

Samantha Braithwaite smiled at her elderly patient then shifted her gaze to run a practised eye over the drip rate of the IV fluids. She moved the little plastic wheel with her thumb a fraction. The saline drip was only up to keep a vein open—Dottie wasn’t hypotensive or dehydrated.

‘Is it your first job as a nurse?’

‘Oh, no...just my first day here at Bondi Bayside Hospital. I’m very excited.’

‘It’s a lovely hospital.’

‘It is. Maybe you’ll get a view of the beach from your room when you’re up on the ward. I had a tour a while ago with my friend, Harriet. She works in Intensive Care and she told me about the job coming up here. I couldn’t wait to apply for it.’

‘It must be a very exciting place to work, here in Emergency. But you’re going to see all manner of dreadful things.’ Faded blue eyes were full of concern. ‘Are you sure that’s right for you? I’m sure I couldn’t do it.’

Sam’s smile was reassuring now. ‘I’ve worked in Emergency for years now, Dottie. At other hospitals in Sydney. I love it. Yes, you can see some dreadful things but it’s exciting, too. We get to save lives quite often.’

‘And here I am holding up a bed with not an ounce of excitement to offer.’

‘You’re a treasure.’ Sam squeezed Dottie’s hand. ‘Are you comfortable? I can arrange some more pain relief for you.’

‘No...it’s fine as long as I don’t move. The pillows are helping.’ Dottie sighed. ‘I can’t believe I’ve been stupid enough to break my hip. You’d think I would have learned to watch my step after ninety-odd years of practice, wouldn’t you?’

‘These things happen. You’re not at all stupid. I’d say you’re as bright as a button.’

Sam knew she should be moving on to check patients in the adjoining cubicles that had been assigned to her but she knew they were all low acuity, like the homeless guy who was sleeping off last night’s alcohol and the teenager who was being monitored to make sure that his blood sugar levels were stable again. But they had buzzers they could use if they needed assistance urgently and there was something in Dottie’s tone that told her how anxious this particular patient was. That she needed more of Sam’s attention.

‘Is there anyone I can call that could come and keep you company? A family member or a friend?’

‘No...my friends are all in the home, now. I’ll see them when I get back.’

‘Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?’

‘A cup of tea would be lovely...and maybe a gingernut?’

‘I’m sorry, Dottie. You’re nil by mouth at the moment because we’re waiting to take you up to Theatre for your operation.’

Yes...that was a flash of real fear in her patient’s eyes. Sam squeezed her hand again and this time, she didn’t let go.

‘I’m quite sure that you’ll be fine,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s a straightforward procedure these days. You’ll be on your feet in no time.’ Her smile widened. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re dancing again, soon.’

‘Oh...we used to love dancing, me and my Bill.’

‘Your husband?’

Dottie nodded. ‘My third.’ She winked at Sam. ‘Third time lucky it was, for me. Are you married, dear?’

‘No... I’m only twenty-eight.’

‘I got married for the first time when I was eighteen.’

‘Oh...’ Sam widened her eyes. ‘Maybe I’m on the shelf, then.’

‘No...things are different these days. It’s sensible to wait for the right one. I lost my first husband in the war, so that wasn’t my fault but the second one was definitely a mistake. I should have kept looking a bit longer.’ There was a gleam in Dottie’s eyes that suggested she was well distracted from her fear. ‘You’re such a pretty girl, dear. I’m sure you’ve got lots of suitors.’

Sam laughed. ‘What a lovely, old-fashioned word. I’ve had a few boyfriends, if that’s what you mean. I’m too young to be thinking about getting married. There’s too many things I want to do first.’

‘Don’t wait too long, dear. You might let the right one slip past...’

‘I’ll keep that in mind. I’d better go now, but I’ll be back soon, okay?’

It really was time that Sam checked on her other patients although it was possible that that comment had struck a nerve. Why hadn’t she found anyone that turned out to be a contender for the position of the ‘right’ one? Dottie had been right. With the classic combination of blonde hair and blue eyes, Sam was never short of attracting attention but she’d discovered that being pretty wasn’t necessarily an advantage. The interest she attracted tended to be shallow and the end goal blatantly obvious.

‘Before you go, dear...do you think you could bring me a bedpan? I’ve been dying to have a wee for ages now.’

Sam turned back, the curtain still bunched in her hand. ‘Of course, Dottie.’ She pulled the curtain closed again. ‘There should be one under the bed. Yes, here it is. Let me help you...we need to be careful not to move the pillows supporting your leg.’

With the covered bedpan in her hand, Sam left Dottie’s cubicle to head towards the sluice room a few minutes later. She swerved to avoid a phlebotomist and her trolley, which put her in line with the doors to the ambulance bay that were sliding open.

‘Move,’ someone barked at her.

An alarmed glance showed an unusual scenario. She might have expected uniformed ambulance officers pushing a trolley at speed after a command like that but this was different.

Very different.

A tall man, wearing jeans and cowboy boots, with a tumble of dark wavy hair that reached his shoulders was coming in at almost a run. He had a baby in his arms. People behind him were running to keep up with his long strides. A distraught-looking woman. And... Harriet? She should be heading upstairs to start her shift in ICU, surely?

Not that she had any time to wonder what was going on. This was clearly a father on a mission to help his sick baby and Sam did, indeed, have to get out of his way. Her long, blonde ponytail swung wildly as she leapt aside—straight into the path of the phlebotomist’s trolley. Racks of glass test tubes rattled and toppled to crash to the floor. A box of vacuum tubes followed, to open and spill its contents over a surprisingly large area. Sam herself was knocked off balance. Not enough to fall onto broken glass, fortunately, but it was enough to send the bedpan in her hands flying. Contact with the floor also spilled its contents and all Sam could do for a moment was stare in absolute horror, a hand instinctively coming up to cover her gaping mouth.

The noise made heads turn from every direction, including the man who was now past Sam, on his way to one of the major resuscitation areas. She could feel his appalled glare so strongly she had to turn her head and, for a heartbeat, his gaze held hers.

Dark, dark eyes.

An incredulous gaze. As if he simply couldn’t believe that anyone in this department could be so incredibly incompetent. As if his faith in people here being able to help his baby had just been dealt a devastating blow.

And then he was gone.

And there were voices all around Sam.

‘Stand back. Stay away from the broken glass.’

‘Someone get a mop.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you...’ The young phlebotomist was looking close to tears.

‘It was my fault. I jumped back without looking. I’m so sorry.’

‘Just move,’ a senior nurse snapped, ‘so we can get this mess cleaned up.’

The young technician pulled her trolley clear and muttered something about needing more test tubes as she fled. A member of the domestic staff was already here with a bucket and mop. Sam snatched up the bedpan and kept going towards the sluice room. If nothing else, a quieter space would give her a moment to get over what felt like humiliation.

She couldn’t help a sideways glance as she passed the resuscitation area. The curtains weren’t completely closed. She could see Harriet in there, with her arm around a sobbing woman. She could see the baby on the bed and staff members busy. Someone had wrapped a tiny blood pressure cuff around an arm and was sliding an oxygen saturation probe onto a finger. Someone else was attaching ECG electrodes. Weirdly, the baby’s father—who looked like he’d just come from a gig with his rock band—was standing at the head of the bed, where the person responsible for the airway was supposed to stand. And someone was handing him a stethoscope.

What the heck?

She dropped the disposable bedpan into the rubbish and then turned on the taps over the huge sink to wash her hands. She took her time, using a lot of soap and then paper towels to prolong the process a little longer. Like that young technician, she was fighting an urge to cry.

Her first day on her new job, when all she’d hoped for was to perform well enough to make it obvious that she would be a valuable team member and all she’d done was to make people think she was totally incompetent. Clumsy at best. A liability at worst. She was an emergency department nurse, for heaven’s sake. She should be able to cope with an unfolding crisis in her sleep, not jump like a startled deer just because someone was rushing towards her and barking like a guard dog.

Sam took a deep breath and then lifted her chin.

She had patients assigned to her care and she was going to go back and do her job. And, on her way back, she would apologise to the charge nurse, Emily.

‘It was an accident.’ Emily actually smiled when Sam spoke to her. ‘Unfortunate timing but I saw what happened and I can’t blame you for getting a fright. It’s not like Blake to speak to people like that but he was under a fair bit of stress. He’d just resuscitated that baby out in the car park.’

‘Blake?’

‘Blake Cooper. He’s one of our top consultants.’

‘No way...’

What had been intended as no more than an astonished inward reaction must have escaped as a whisper but Emily didn’t seem offended. Her lips twitched.

‘I know...but he looks different when he’s in his scrubs and has that hair tied up. You’ll see...’

Sam didn’t want to see. She’d never forget that appalled glance he’d given her. It would have been bad enough if he’d been the baby’s father but at least she wouldn’t have to see him again. That she’d come to the notice of one of this department’s consultants in such a humiliating manner was too much to even try and process right now.

‘How’s the baby?’

‘Stable. Looks like he’s got a respiratory infection going on but they’re also querying an underlying heart condition. He’s on his way to PICU at the moment for monitoring and follow up. Oh...your patient, Mrs Henderson? They’re coming to take her to Theatre any minute. She was asking for you. Perhaps you could go up with her?’

‘Sure. But what about my other patients?’

‘The registrar’s discharged the ETOH overdose. And the diabetic lad is eating breakfast. We’ll discharge him as soon as his mum gets back with his clothes. Don’t worry...’ Emily smiled again. ‘I’ll have a whole new list for you as soon as you get back. I might give you some time in the plaster room. And the paediatric corner—just to let you get a feel for the place.’

Or to keep her out of harm’s way?

Sam managed to paste a smile onto her face. ‘That’ll be great. Thanks.’

* * *

What a start to the day.

It was nearly two hours later before Blake Cooper felt like things were back to normal. He had a crisp, clean scrub tunic over his jeans, his penlight torch clipped onto his top pocket along with his pens, and his pager and phone attached to a lower pocket. His hair was neatly combed and fastened into the looped ponytail that was appropriate to his work environment and his own stethoscope lay over his shoulders.

The lasting impression of the dramatic start to his day was an odd mix. There was an enormous relief that the baby was going to be fine. A cardiac abnormality had been ruled out and the respiratory arrest seemed to have been caused by difficulty breathing due to a bad case of bronchiolitis, which was now being treated by the specialist paediatric team. The stress levels had been remarkably high as he was carrying that baby into Emergency, knowing that he could have already stopped breathing again on the journey from the car park but it didn’t excuse the way he’d shouted at that nurse who’d been right in his path.

So there was an element of guilt to go with the relief. No wonder the poor girl jumped. He’d never seen her before, either, so maybe she was a relief nurse who wasn’t even experienced in being in an often chaotic environment like the ED. The sound of smashing glass had made him think that he might have been responsible for causing a nasty injury but when he’d looked, she was still on her feet and all he could see beneath a halo of very blonde hair and horrified eyes was a face half covered by a hand.

A hand with ridiculously polished nails. Polka dots?

Who the hell put polka dots on their nails? Nobody who was serious about working in a place like this, that was for sure.

Emily was near the triage desk, updating details on the huge board that kept track of the whereabouts and condition of all the patients in this busy emergency department.

‘Hey, Em...’ Blake paused for a moment. ‘Thanks so much for sending someone to rescue my helmet and bag from the car park. Much appreciated.’

‘No worries, Blake. You can pay me back by seeing how many of these patients can be discharged. Like this asthma attack in cubicle three. Her oxygen saturation levels have been normal for the last hour but she’s anxious. Used her alarm to call an ambulance even before she’d tried her inhaler.’

‘I’ll go and have a chat.’ Blake scanned the rest of the glass board, hoping to find something more challenging but the resuscitation and high acuity areas were currently vacant.

The peal of childish laughter made Blake, and everyone else around him, turn. It was a welcome change from the sounds children usually made here and there were smiles breaking out everywhere as a toddler came towards them at speed, crowing with delight. An adult was in hot pursuit, arms outstretched to catch the escapee.

Hands that were almost in contact with the small person whose nappy was now loose enough to hamper chubby legs.

Hands that had fingernails with polka dots.

‘Gotcha...’

The toddler didn’t seem to mind being captured. With another gurgle of laughter he wrapped his arms around the nurse’s neck. She planted a kiss on the curly head and then turned to take him back to where he was supposed to be—presumably the paediatric area. The moment she became aware of her audience was very obvious. Her eyes widened and her smile was fading as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

Then her gaze collided with Blake’s and a flush of colour instantly stained her cheeks.

And, for the second time in a single day, he was blindsided.

She’d had her face half covered the first time he’d seen her so he hadn’t realised...

He hadn’t realised that this was the most beautiful woman he’d ever clapped eyes on in his entire life.

Sun-kissed blonde hair and the bluest eyes imaginable. A cute little nose and a generous mouth clearly designed for smiling—or for being kissed...

He couldn’t drag his gaze away from her.

She was tall and slim, as well. A model masquerading as a nurse. A Disney princess who probably had a tiara and frothy ball gown tucked away in her locker.

He was still staring as she hurried away with the toddler peering over her shoulder. As if mocking him, a small hand was waving at Blake.

‘Oh, dear...’ Emily murmured. ‘She’s not having the best first day, poor thing.’

Blake’s inward breath made him realise that he hadn’t taken one for a while. ‘Who is that?’

‘Samantha Braithwaite. She’s come here from Sydney Central with impeccable references including postgrad qualifications in trauma management.’

There was a moment’s silence, then, possibly because Blake’s tone had finally filtered through to his colleague.

‘Oh, no...’ Emily sighed. ‘Do I have to warn her of your reputation?’

Blake grinned at her. ‘Do I have a reputation?’

She laughed. ‘Go away. Do your work. What you do in your personal life is none of my business.’

He pretended not to hear her final murmur as he headed for cubicle three.

‘And thank goodness for that...’


CHAPTER TWO (#u35b4eb81-ee96-58ab-a439-b20149699f14)

‘OH, MY GOD, Harriet. I can’t go back tomorrow...’

Ignoring the glass of wine her friend had put in front of her, Sam buried her face in her hands.

‘Don’t be daft. It’ll be fine.’

‘Everybody thinks I’m an idiot.’

‘That’s not true and you know it.’

Sam reached for her glass and took a long sip. Okay...maybe not everybody thought that but one person certainly did and he wasn’t just one of the senior doctors in her new department and therefore her boss.

He was, quite possibly, the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her entire life. Emily had been quite right that Blake Cooper looked different in his scrubs. When she’d seen him later today, thanks to chasing that wayward toddler, his hair was pulled back, sleek against his head, the length of it hidden in a kind of knot at the back. And, without the distraction of those rock god tresses, it was his eyes that grabbed attention. Eyes that were so dark you couldn’t distinguish the pupils. Brooding eyes.

Drop dead sexy...

But also capable of delivering a withering glance. As they had, in that first moment he’d noticed her thanks to that unfortunate bedpan incident.

Sam was staring at her glass of wine, now. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that chardonnay looks a lot like urine?’

Harriet let out a peal of laughter that made heads turn in this trendy wine bar with its glorious view of the beach.

‘Let it go.’ She was grinning.

‘I can’t. I practically threw a full bedpan of the stuff at the feet of one of Bondi Bayside’s top emergency consultants. You were there. You must have seen the way he glared at me.’

Pushing her fingers into her hair loosened strands that escaped the coil she had created so carefully in the early hours of this morning. She pulled the clip from the back of her head and let the rest of it escape as well. Maybe that would help her try and move on from her disastrous day.

‘I think he had other things on his mind,’ Harriet told her. ‘Honestly, he’ll have forgotten all about it by tomorrow. And, if he hasn’t, he’ll make a joke about it.’

Sam finally picked up her glass and took a sip. ‘Why were you there, anyway?’

‘I heard someone screaming for help in the car park. And then I saw Blake leaping over the fence like some hero in an action movie. Joining in was automatic—it was like a training exercise for the team or something.’

‘But you don’t work in ED.’

‘I mean the SDR. I’ve told you all about that. Wasn’t it one of the reasons you wanted to come and work on this side of town?’

Sam nodded. She’d long been envious of Harriet’s involvement with the Specialist Disaster Response team. How exciting would it be to get dispatched as a first response to major incidents like floods or fires or an avalanche, maybe? To be working in the field facing the kind of challenges that you’d never experience in a nice, safe emergency department. She fully intended to try and join the team herself and, given that she wasn’t a firefighter or a paramedic, the first step in that ambition had been to become a member of Bondi Bayside Hospital’s staff.

Her heart had just sunk a little, however. Had Harriet just made her aware of a possible fly in the ointment? A fly the size of an albatross?

‘Blake’s in the SDR?’

‘Are you kidding? It was pretty much his baby right from the start. He told me once that he’d been planning to join Médecins Sans Frontières. He’d been through the selection process and was just waiting for his first posting but then his mum had a stroke and she’s pretty dependent on him now so he couldn’t go anywhere. He had a mate in the fire service who got him into USAR and that’s when he came up with the idea of a medical team that could add another level of skill to a first response.’

‘USAR?’

‘Urban Search and Rescue. I’ve done a course myself. You learn how to find victims in situations like collapsed buildings. It’s awesome. I think most firies do it and a lot of paramedics. Not so many doctors or nurses but it’s attracting more interest now. You have to do it if you’re in the team. Blake’s actually one of the regional instructors now. Plus, he’s winch-trained for helicopters. I’m thinking of doing that training myself, actually. Bit scary, though...’

Sam was nodding but her thoughts were skidding off in another direction. Blake Cooper was getting more intriguing with everything she heard about him. He was obviously a born leader. He wasn’t afraid of danger.

And he loved his mother.

He was also clearly at the top of the SDR ladder.

‘Um... Who gets to decide if someone’s allowed to join the team?’

‘There’s a committee. People have their names put forward by someone who’s already on the team and there’s a discussion and a vote to see if they’re going to be invited to a training session to try out. And then there’s another vote to decide whether they get to join.’ Harriet raised her eyebrows. ‘Want me to put your name forward?’

‘Sure. But, if Blake gets to vote, I think I might have killed my chances.’

‘By throwing a bedpan at him?’

‘It wasn’t just that. He saw me later today, too. Chasing down a toddler who’d taken off from the paediatric area. He must think I’m totally incompetent.’

She knew that for a fact, thanks to the second time they had made eye contact today. The moment the chase had ended when she’d scooped up that adorable little boy, she could feel the intensity of his gaze. And his expression...well, the only interpretation she could put on it was complete incredulity. As if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing—that she was still working in his department?

Harriet shrugged. ‘He’ll soon find out you’re not. He’s one of the smartest guys I know and he can read people pretty well. I could tell him myself, just to speed up the process.’

‘No, don’t do that, Harry. It feels like I’d be trying to get something the easy way. Breaking some unwritten rule for a team that must have to rely on everyone being super competent. I’ll just have to impress him at work somehow, if I get the chance. And then you could put my name forward.’

‘Don’t try too hard,’ Harriet advised. ‘He likes to make his own decisions. If he gets pushed he’s likely to walk off and do his own thing. He’s a...what’s the word for it...when someone’s a law unto themselves kind of thing?’

‘Fascinating’ was the first word that sprang to mind. Or maybe ‘irresistible’...

‘Maverick, that’s it.’ Harriet’s nod was satisfied.

‘Hmm... I guess he is. I mean, that hair...’

‘I know. Not my thing but it doesn’t seem to put other girls off.’

‘And he was still wearing jeans under that scrubs top. And...and cowboy boots?’

Harriet was laughing again. ‘I guess when you’re that brilliant at what you do, you can get away with pretty much anything. He’s a nice guy, Sam. As long as you don’t get too close.’

‘Oh? What happens if you do?’

‘Well, you don’t. That’s just it. You get a broken heart, that’s all. Oh...speaking of hearts.’ Harriet glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve got to run. Pete’s taking me out to dinner and that doesn’t happen very often. I think...’ She bit her lip, hazel eyes sparkling beneath her tumble of auburn curls. ‘I think he’s going to ask me to move in with him.’

‘Really?’ Oh, my God, Harry. That’s almost a proposal. Are you going to say yes?’

Harriet grinned. ‘You have met Pete, haven’t you?’

‘Of course I have.’

She’d met Harriet’s boyfriend more than once. A tall, very fit fireman who was also part of the SDR, Pete had sun-bleached blond hair thanks to his favourite hobby of surfing and a body that was a testament to the number of hours he spent at the gym. He was undeniably good looking and seemed like a perfectly nice guy but...

Sam gave her head a tiny shake as she reached for her bag. There was no ‘but’. Her parents would be rapt if she brought someone like Pete home. They would be horrified if she turned up with someone like...

Like Blake Cooper.

Good grief...one glass of wine on a sunny afternoon and it had gone straight to her head, hadn’t it?

‘I hope Pete takes you somewhere really romantic.’

‘I don’t care if it’s a fast food joint, to be honest. You coming to the bus stop?’

‘No. I left my car at work.’ She hugged her friend. ‘And I’ve got some shopping to do. Catch you tomorrow, maybe?’

Luckily there was a pharmacy in the group of local shops near the wine bar. Sam headed in and grabbed an item that had been at the back of her mind all day.

Nail polish remover.

* * *

The little red car was still there.

Blake Cooper was finally heading home after a long shift. He had already worked more than his allocated hours and he would have stayed longer still so that he’d had a chance to get up to the paediatric wing and check on the baby he’d resuscitated this morning but he had another place he needed to be and someone who needed him to be there.

It made him smile to see the car again. He’d have to tell his mum about it, he decided, as he climbed onto his bike and rocked it free of its stand. A trip down memory lane for both of them was one of her favourite things. Maybe he’d even have a dig in those old boxes at the back of the garage and see if that box of toys was still there somewhere.

His smile died as he lifted his head to put his helmet on.

No way...

It couldn’t be...

But it was. The woman walking towards the little red car was none other than the new nurse from ED.

Samantha Braithwaite.

The name had burned itself into his memory banks instantly, with a similar lightning bolt kind of finality as what she looked like.

And, if he’d thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in that moment, it paled in comparison to what he was seeing now.

She’d been wearing scrubs then. With her hair no more than a lumpy knot at the back of her head.

Right now, she was wearing a gypsy-style, loose white blouse and faded denim shorts with frayed hems that showed off an incredible length of slim, bronzed legs. And her hair... Released from that knot, it was astonishingly long, reaching her waist in a fall of gentle waves that the summer evening breeze was playing with.

Forget the impression of being a princess or a model. What Blake was looking at now was more like an image from one of those magazines he’d hidden under his bed as a teenager.

Every man’s fantasy.

And she owned the vintage MG roadster? Apparently so, given that she’d climbed inside and was now rolling the soft top back.

Blake’s breath came out in a snort. Of course she did. It was probably a gift from a rich father. Or husband. A boyfriend at the very least. Women who looked like that were never alone in life.

Maybe she’d had those stupid dots painted on her nails to match its paintwork, even.

This was ridiculous. Why was he even giving this woman and her questionable life choices any head space at all? Blake jammed his helmet onto his head and kicked the engine of his bike into life. He took off with perhaps a bit more acceleration than was strictly necessary so it really shouldn’t have surprised him that she turned her head to stare at him.

What did come as a surprise was that he rather liked the idea that she was watching him.

* * *

‘How long will I have to wait?’

‘I’m not sure, Jess.’ Sam had come into one of the cubicles assigned to her on this shift, to do the obs on a patient who’d been brought into the ED by ambulance earlier this morning. She watched the drip rate of the IV fluids and slowed them a little by turning the small wheel on the line. These fluids were running simply to keep a vein open in case medication was needed at some point. ‘I can make a call and try and find out, if you like?’

She knew which of the phones on the main desk she could use. And who to call. After a week in her new department, Sam was comfortably familiar with where things were, subtle differences in protocols and her new group of colleagues, both in the department and the consultants who got called in. They were a great bunch of people and Sam knew she was going to make new friends here. She particularly liked Kate Mitchell, an O&G surgeon, who was apparently also a member of the SDR team although she hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about it yet. She lived in the same apartment building as Harriet so maybe she should suggest that they all meet up for a drink one evening, or something.

‘That would be great.’ Jess nodded. ‘I’ve let them know at work that I’m going to be late but I haven’t worked there that long, you know? I don’t want them to think I’m a liability.’

‘I get it. I’m pretty new here, myself. Let me just do your blood pressure and things and I’ll get on it.’

At twenty-five, Jess was only a few years younger than Sam so she already felt an affinity with this patient. That she wanted to impress people at a new job gave them another connection. Sam smiled at her as she wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm. Not that she’d managed to impress anybody here yet, as far as she was aware, but at least she’d been able to keep her head down and work hard and had, thank goodness, avoided calling attention to herself for any less than desirable incidents.

She still felt like she was on probation, however, whenever Blake Cooper was in the near vicinity. Which seemed to be an awful lot of the time. She’d developed a kind of internal radar that alerted her to his presence in the department, even when he wasn’t visible, which was a bit weird but she’d proved herself correct often enough to trust it now. It was like some kind of energy that gave a recognisable crackle to the atmosphere.

She wasn’t into auras or anything like that, but it wasn’t hard to recognise charisma and she’d already been intrigued by this man. When she’d seen him roar off on his motorbike that evening last week, the jolt of what could only be described as pure lust had been shocking enough to explain the crackle she was now so aware of. It was also the reason she was avoiding eye contact with him at all costs. It wasn’t easy, either, because that feeling of being on probation came from the knowledge that he was keeping an eye on her.

Watching what she was up to and whether she was doing her job to an acceptable level of expertise.

How embarrassing would it be if he could see how attractive she found him?

She noted a normal blood pressure and then picked up the tympanic thermometer.

‘I’m sure I don’t have a temperature,’ Jess told her. ‘I don’t feel sick.’

‘We’re just keeping an eye on things. An infection is one of the things that could be interfering with your anti-epileptic medication.’

‘I don’t even think I had a seizure. I just fainted or something.’

‘You may as well get checked out properly while you’re here.’

‘I wouldn’t be here, if that cop hadn’t been in the coffee shop when it happened. He was the one who called an ambulance.’

‘I might have done the same thing myself, if I’d noticed your MedicAlert bracelet.’

‘But I was fine by the time it arrived. If he hadn’t threatened to call my parents if I didn’t go to the hospital, I’d be at work now and wouldn’t be here wasting people’s time.’

‘When was the last time you had an EEG?’

‘After my last seizure, nearly two years ago. Oh...’ Jess groaned. ‘I was just about to be able to get my driver’s licence back, you know? This really sucks...’

‘I know.’ Sam wrote the normal temperature onto the chart. ‘It’s a bit stressful starting a new job. Have you been sleeping okay? Eating well?’

They were all questions that had been asked by the junior registrar who’d been assigned this patient but, sometimes, people found it less intimidating to chat to their nurse and new information could be forthcoming.

But Jess just shook her head. ‘You’re starting to sound like my mother.’

‘Sorry.’ Sam grinned. ‘Helicopter parent, huh? I know what that’s like.’

‘You’d think I was still six years old, not a responsible adult.’ Jess sighed heavily, leaning her head back on her pillows. ‘I don’t blame them, you know? My brother died in a car accident when he was seventeen. They’ve been watching me like a hawk ever since and I know how much they care. That’s why I can’t let them know I’m in here. My mother would totally panic.’

Sam had frozen for a moment, after clipping the chart back onto the end of the bed.

‘I understand,’ she said quietly.

Man...she had way more in common with this patient than an age group or a new job.

‘And I’m so sorry to hear about your brother. That’s really rough.’

She knew exactly how rough. Not that her brother had died in a car crash. No. Alistair had been feeding his adrenaline addiction and climbing a mountain. He’d been twenty-five. Sam had only been sixteen and the loss of her only brother and her best friend had been devastating. Her parents were never going to get over it.

‘It wasn’t his fault. They said it was, because he was driving but I don’t believe it. One of his mates in the car said he collapsed at the wheel but he’d had a head injury and nobody believed him.’

There were tears rolling down Jess’s face. ‘It changed everything, you know? It was when I had my first seizure and knew how terrified my parents were. We all miss him...so much...’

Jess was sobbing now. Sam moved to put her arms around her patient. She needed to comfort her. Emotional distress like this wasn’t going to help. It could even possibly trigger another seizure.

And, even as the thought appeared, she could feel the sudden change within her arms. The instant lack of any muscle tension.

‘Jess? Jess...?’

The lack of any response was no surprise. Swiftly, Sam removed the pillows from behind Jess’s head and tilted her chin to ensure her airway was open before pressing her fingers to her neck to check her pulse. The sudden jerking beneath her hand made it impossible to feel anything. All she could do now was to make sure that she kept Jess safe for the duration of this seizure. And to alert the registrar, Sandra, of this new development.

The movements weren’t violent enough to put Jess in danger of falling off the bed so Sam took a quick step back to flick the curtain open far enough to call whoever was closest and ask them to find Sandra urgently.

There was only one person close enough to call.

And this was not an appropriate moment to avoid eye contact.

Oddly, she didn’t need to utter a word.

And, even more oddly, it felt like she’d known that since the first time she had made eye contact with this extraordinary man. It was exactly why she’d been avoiding this—it felt like he could see anything that she might be trying to hide.

Not that she was trying to hide anything right now. She needed back-up and it took only a split second. With two strides, Blake was behind the curtain with her, his intense gaze on Jess as he took in the uncontrolled movements of her body.

‘This is Jess, twenty-five years old,’ Sam told him rapidly. ‘History of epilepsy. She was brought in by ambulance nearly an hour ago and is waiting for an EEG. She...um...got upset when we were talking. Sudden loss of consciousness and the seizure started maybe fifteen seconds later.’

‘Draw up some midazolam,’ Blake ordered. ‘Five milligrams. We’re going to need it if this lasts more than five minutes. Grab some valproate as well, in case the midaz isn’t enough.’

Sam’s hands were rock steady as she swiftly found the ampoules, double checked the name, dose and expiry date with Blake and drew up the drugs.

He checked his watch. ‘Three minutes,’ he murmured. He was resting his hand on the arm that had the IV line inserted, to protect it from being knocked out of place. ‘What was she upset about?’

‘She was telling me about her brother who died in a car crash when he was a teenager. Her epilepsy got diagnosed not long after that.’

‘Oh?’ Blake slanted a glance towards Sam and, again, there was a moment of communication that went beyond the words being spoken. They both found this snippet of information interesting.

‘Apparently, one of the passengers in the car thought he might have collapsed suddenly at the wheel.’

Blake’s glance sharpened with what looked like curiosity.

‘What are you thinking?’

A lot of people wouldn’t have jumped in with both feet the way Sam did. She was a nurse. It wasn’t her place to suggest that a doctor’s diagnosis might have been wrong. But maybe she recognised the significance of something others might have dismissed and she had the feeling that Blake was on the same wavelength.

‘What if it’s not epilepsy at all?’ Sam suggested quietly. ‘But something like long QT syndrome?’

Surprise replaced curiosity in that dark gaze. ‘What do you know about long QT syndrome?’

‘It’s a delayed repolarisation of the heart that can lead to episodes of torsades de pointes and can cause fainting, seizures and sudden death due to ventricular fibrillation. It can be hereditary and run in families.’

‘She must have had ECGs done.’

‘They did a twelve lead in the ambulance this morning. It was reported as sinus rhythm and NAD.’

No abnormalities detected.

Blake checked his watch again but Sam could see that the drugs weren’t going to be needed. The chaotic movements of Jess’s body were subsiding. She could see their patient’s chest heave as she took a deep breath. Blake quickly turned her into the recovery position, talking quietly as he did so.

‘It’s okay, Jess,’ he said gently. He pulled up the bed cover and tucked it around her shoulders. ‘You’re fine. Everything’s okay. Just rest for a minute.’

Then he straightened. ‘Where’s that ECG?’

Sam took the manila folder from where it was clipped behind the observations chart she had been filling in a short time ago. The sheet of pink graph paper was behind the ambulance officer’s report form. She handed it to Blake and he stared at it for a long minute.

Sam waited, holding her breath, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he handed the trace to her.

‘What do you think?’

Her mouth went suddenly dry. All aspects of cardiology were fascinating to her but she was no expert and traces were difficult to read. Then she let her breath out slowly. She didn’t need to analyse every lead on this ECG. All she needed to look at was the rhythm strip at the bottom and to remember what the normal interval between the downward Q spike and the end of the T wave was. She started counting the tiny squares, the figure of ten being in her head.

‘Eight, nine...ten...’ She was whispering aloud. ‘Eleven...no, it could be twelve.’ Her gaze flicked up from the paper. Was she making an idiot of herself, here?

‘Hard to tell without a ruler, isn’t it?’ Blake’s gaze was steady. He wasn’t looking surprised any more. And curiosity was long gone. This look had a very different message.

He looked seriously impressed.

‘Definitely long.’ One side of his mouth curled up just a fraction. Okay, maybe there was a bit of surprise mixed into that lingering look. He hadn’t expected this from her, had he?

She had wanted a chance to impress him but it was kind of annoying that he was so impressed that she might have a brain. Blake Cooper might be the hottest thing on two legs she’d ever met but his attitude was less than desirable. It wasn’t the first time that Sam had encountered a reaction that suggested she didn’t look as smart as she was. What usually followed was the impression that the fact that she could think was just an added bonus that wasn’t particularly relevant.

The burning fuse of the potent attraction she’d been so aware of had just been doused with a bucket of cold water and, ironically, in the moment of realising she didn’t have to avoid eye contact with this man any more, it became remarkably easy to break it. She turned towards her patient who was waking up properly now.

But Blake had turned as well and they both reached to take Jess’s pulse at the same time.

Skin brushed on skin and Sam had to snatch her hand away as if she’d been burnt.

It felt like she’d been burnt.

Maybe that fuse hadn’t been extinguished as well as she’d thought.

Blake didn’t seem to have noticed anything. ‘Give Cardiology a call, would you, Sam?’ he asked. ‘And bring a monitor when you come back. Hopefully this isn’t going to happen again, but it would be helpful to be able to record it if it does.’

* * *

‘Good call, mate.’ Luc Braxton paused by the central desk in the ER to talk to Blake. ‘I was having lunch with one of the cardiology team and they told me all about your case. Sounds like you probably saved that young woman’s life.’

Blake couldn’t take all the credit. He couldn’t actually take any of it.

‘It was a good call,’ he agreed. ‘She could well have gone on being treated for epilepsy that didn’t exist and died from a VF arrest down the track.’

‘You should write the case history up for a journal,’ Luc suggested.

‘I think it’s been done,’ Blake said. ‘What bothers me is that nobody queried whether her seizures could have been due to oxygen deprivation in the first place. And I can’t really take the credit...’ He lifted his gaze to scan the emergency department. ‘It was actually one of our nurses who joined the dots.’

‘Wow. That’s impressive. Who was it?’

‘Samantha...someone. She’s new.’

‘Ah...’ Luc raised an eyebrow. ‘The one that looks like a model?’

‘Mmm.’ The response was meant to be discouraging. He didn’t want to find out that any of his colleagues found her attractive. And he certainly didn’t want to give anyone the impression that he did. She wasn’t his type and never would be.

‘Give her a pat on the back then.’ Luc turned away but then threw a grin over his shoulder. ‘Figuratively, I mean.’

Blake ignored the subtle reference to his reputation with women but the suggestion had already been made by the cardiology team. ‘I’ll do that.’

Not that he could see Sam anywhere. After a week of being so aware of her in the department, half expecting her to do something else that was clumsy or inappropriate, it was a little disconcerting to realise he might have to go looking for her to pass on the congratulations.

Maybe that had something to do with the impression he’d been left with that she hadn’t exactly been thrilled to have him take over Jess’s management until the patient was transferred to the cardiology department. She’d barely spoken to him when she’d brought the monitor back and busied herself attaching electrodes and then she’d faded into the background when Jess asked her to contact her parents and let them know what was going on.

What had he done to offend her?

And why did it bother him, anyway?

Okay, maybe she’d ditched those frivolous nails but she still belonged to a world he did his best to avoid. A supermodel clone who drove around in a real-life Dinky toy and had the time and inclination to sit around in beauty salons.

The fact that she was intelligent made no difference.

The jolt of electricity he’d felt when his hand had brushed hers shouldn’t make any difference, either.

But it did, dammit.

Against his better judgement, Blake had to admit that he was lying to himself by pretending he wasn’t attracted to this newcomer.

He was. Seriously attracted.

Not that he was going to act on it.

So, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing if he’d somehow offended her. A useful insurance policy if his body decided it would be worth overriding his better judgement and he was tempted to find out if Samantha Braithwaite was single. Or interested.

And why would she be interested anyway? He didn’t sit around in wine bars or treat his dates to great seats for some show at the Sydney Opera House. His spare time was devoted to helping out the less privileged members of society at the free clinic and keeping up with any DIY or gardening at his mother’s house. And training, of course. If it wasn’t an organised session with the SDR team, he’d be out running or at the gym using the climbing wall or something. Physical kind of stuff for the most part.

The kind that made you sweaty and dirty.

Could break your nails, even.

Nope. She definitely wasn’t his type.

And he didn’t need to go and find Sam. He’d see her soon enough and he could pass on the message.

Or he could write a note and leave it under the windscreen wiper of the car he couldn’t help looking for every day when he arrived at work. Except that she’d think it was a ticket or something, wouldn’t she? She might be really annoyed by a gesture like that.

Blake thought about that for a moment. Then he turned to Emily who was working nearby at the central desk.

‘Got a bit of scrap paper, Em?’


CHAPTER THREE (#u35b4eb81-ee96-58ab-a439-b20149699f14)

THE SUN WAS low enough in the sky that Blake had to shield his eyes as he walked through the car park. He almost didn’t see the figure standing beside the little red car.

No. Not exactly standing. Samantha Braithwaite had one hip resting on the bonnet, close to one of the headlights. She looked like she was waiting for something. The roof of the car was down so maybe she was waiting for the interior to cool off?

He had to walk past her to get to his bike. It would have been rude not to acknowledge her, so he nodded.

She nodded back.

‘I got your note.’

Blake’s steps slowed. Uh-oh...

He’d left that note a couple of days ago. He’d had a day off the next day and he’d barely seen her today with the department having been so busy so he’d forgotten that it could have been annoying. That she might have thought she was getting a ticket for parking in the wrong place or something.

But Sam was smiling now. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘It was nice to know that someone was impressed but...’

Blake had stopped walking. He raised an eyebrow.

‘But how did you know this was my car?’

Oh, man... She had been waiting for something, hadn’t she?

She’d been waiting for him.

He shrugged. ‘It’s a distinctive car. I saw you getting into it. On your first day here, I think it was.’

She slid off the car. The way she caught the length of her hair and pushed it back over her shoulder came across as a defensive gesture. An understandable one, perhaps, and Blake felt a slight twinge of remorse. He hadn’t intended to remind her of the humiliating incident of dropping a bedpan in front of everyone.

‘Fair enough. And you ride a Ducati.’

His eyebrow still hadn’t lowered. Maybe because he remembered that she’d been watching him ride away that day. That he’d revved a bit more than necessary.

That he’d liked that she was watching him.

Dangerous territory, here. It would be oh, so easy to keep talking. To flirt with her a little, even. He willed his muscles to tense, ready to keep moving forward. Oddly, they weren’t co-operating.

‘That’s right.’

‘Seven-fifty Sport, I believe.’

Good grief. She knew about bikes? His eyebrow had dropped now. His jaw probably had as well.

‘My brother was into bikes.’

‘Ah.’ Past tense. ‘So he grew out of his wilder inclinations, then?’

Sam seemed to have found an interesting oil stain on the asphalt. ‘Something like that.’

It was time for him to move. To wish his new colleague a good evening and then go and get on with what was left of his own.

‘So...do you know what happened? To Jess, I mean. The girl with the long QT syndrome?’

‘She was kept in for some tests but I expect she’s been discharged by now.’

‘I meant her management. Did she get put on beta blockers? Or is an implantable defibrillator on the cards?’

So she’d been waiting for him just because she wanted follow-up on a case they’d both been involved with?

Very professional but a bit odd to be doing it in the car park when she could have approached him at work at any time. Usually, if women went out of their way to talk to him, they had a very different agenda in mind.

Sam didn’t wait for him to respond. ‘I guess it depends on the genotype and the exact QT interval when it’s been corrected for things like gender and age.’

‘Yeah... You got it.’ A warning bell was ringing somewhere in the back of Blake’s mind. Sam clearly wanted to keep this conversation going.

She wanted...something...

He actually took a step forward to suggest that he had someplace else he needed to be. It could go two ways. Either she’d take the hint and give up or she’d reveal what it was that was really on her mind.

It appeared that Sam could ignore hints.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

‘I’m friends with Harriet Collins. From ICU?’

‘Yeah... I know Harry.’

‘She’d told me about the Specialist Disaster Response team. I heard all about that last callout you had, to that bushfire?’

Blake waited politely for the question he was supposed to answer but Sam seemed to be searching for what she wanted to say.

‘And?’ he prompted.

The movement of her chest as she took a deep breath caught his eye. That hint of cleavage in the low scoop of her T-shirt was even more eye-catching. He looked away swiftly.

‘And it’s the sort of thing I’d really like to be able to do myself. To be somewhere on the front line, in a crisis. To be part of an emergency response when it really counts. When it can be a matter of life or death.’

If he’d wanted to flirt with her, this was an ideal opportunity. He could make himself look pretty good by sharing a few war stories, too, if it went that far.

But it wasn’t going to go that far.

It wasn’t going to go anywhere at all.

‘You get that yourself. We get plenty of life or death situations in ED.’

‘But it’s not the same. We’ve got any amount of backup and resources in ED. It’s...’

There was a frown line between Sam’s eyes as, again, she tried to find the words that would explain exactly what she meant.

She didn’t need to explain because Blake understood perfectly well. Working in a well-equipped emergency department wasn’t as exciting. Or challenging. You didn’t have to dig deep and find out what you, as an individual, were really made of.





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