A Doctor Worth Waiting For

by Margaret McDonagh

  ‘Have you settled in upstairs?’

  She swallowed as Conor squeezed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, tightening the fabric across his hips, drawing her attention back to his body. ‘The flat is very comfortable, thank you.’

  ‘I hope you won’t find Glentown too quiet after the city life you are used to.’

  The doubt in his voice made her wonder if Conor had less confidence in her position here than Fred did. ‘I’m sure I won’t.’

  Far from it, if only he knew. The quiet life, rural location and the solitude of walking in the hills were major draws of this job. Peace and space were what she needed to regroup, restore her shattered spirit and think about the rest of her life.

  ‘Let us know if there is anything you need or anything we can do to for you while you are here.’

  ‘I will.’ He meant the flat, the job, she reminded herself, trying not to react to the husky suggestiveness of his voice. ‘Everything is fine.’

  Everything except Conor himself—and the fact that she was scared witless about her adequacy as a doctor. Why had she let her father and the professor talk her into taking this post? It was easy for them to tell her it was time to move on but she felt she had failed, was unsure she had anything left to give.

  A fresh wave of panic welled inside her and she curled her hands into fists, battling the overwhelming urge to run—to run from facing a challenge that felt too big, too soon, too scary. Helplessly, she looked at Conor. His clear eyes watched her and she could see curiosity mix with a warm compassion that caused an uncharacteristic threat of tears. Blinking them away, she started as he reached out and took her hand, his fingers giving hers a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘First days are always difficult.’

  Kate shrugged, not trusting herself to speak, frightened she would do the unthinkable and blurt everything out, confide in him, explain this wasn’t first-day nerves. What was it about this man that got inside her skin? But she couldn’t forget his reputation, how very wrong he would be for her, or why she was here and what she had to do to get her life back on track and mend her battered soul.

  Conor wasn’t sure what had happened but he was positive Kate had been on the verge of confiding something before there had been an emotional withdrawal and a shoring up of her defences. He sensed that whatever had caused that sudden welling of panic and anxiety was about more than new job unease. Now barriers were being placed between them, Kate’s inner disquiet and wariness obvious. Something much deeper was going on here but it would take time and patience to gain her trust and break through her reserve—if he wanted to take things further. Which he did. More than anything. His innate concern for anyone or anything in pain meant he couldn’t leave her hurting, but getting past her defences and persuading her there was something special here worth exploring wouldn’t be easy.

  Aware of her tension, he brushed the pad of his thumb across the back of her hand before he let her go and forced himself to give her space. He missed the contact, missed being close enough that the citrusy fragrance of her toyed with his senses, but he needed to keep things businesslike…for now.

  ‘We have a busy morning and plenty of patients waiting. Do you feel ready to make a start?’

  ‘OK.’ Her eyes closed for a moment and when she opened them again he was struck by the thread of fear in the dark brown depths.

  Concerned for her, he tried to ease the tension with humour. ‘Don’t worry, Kate, I don’t bite. Not like that, anyway!’

  His teasing comment backfired. All he could think about were the many parts of Kate he desperately yearned to taste and to nibble, the fire of desire reigniting inside him. Hell! He saw the flush tinge her cheeks before his gaze captured hers. The disapproval in her eyes amused and troubled him. He had diverted her from her fear but only at the expense of making her think he was some kind of lech, which was not what he had intended at all. Sighing, he led the way back to his consulting room, unable to get the sight, sound and scent of Kate Fisher out of his mind.

  Instead of finding answers, meeting this woman had raised more questions. Everything about Kate intrigued him…and made him more certain than ever that she was hiding something, that there were secrets waiting to be unravelled.

  CHAPTER TWO

  KATE tried to wrench her gaze from the distraction of Conor’s sublime rear view as she followed him along the wide, airy corridor. She had been unsettled by his throw-away comment. She was sure he hadn’t meant anything sexual by it but all she could think about was what his mouth might taste like, how his lips and teeth would feel caressing her skin. This was appalling. It had to stop. Now. She was here to get her career back on track, to see if she could be a doctor after the traumatic events of the last months. It may have been too long since she had been held and loved, but now was not the time to start yearning for male companionship. And Conor was not the right man to turn to, not with his apparent legion of ladies and aversion to commitment. He confused her. She had been forewarned of his heartbreaker reputation, she disapproved of his womanising, the unprofessional, casual way he dressed and approached being a doctor, and yet he had displayed a sensitivity to her feelings she would never have expected. She took a seat in Conor’s consulting room and tried to focus on the job ahead, nerves clenching in her stomach and making her feel sick, her doubts returning with a vengeance.

  ‘All right?’ Conor asked, taking the first packet of notes from the full tray on his desk.

  Taking a deep breath, aware he again seemed attuned to her mood, Kate nodded. ‘Fine,’ she lied, feeling the intensity of his regard before he reached for the phone.

  ‘Hi, Jenny,’ he said and Kate visualised the young receptionist with the long blonde hair who had been Conor’s chief fan the previous afternoon. ‘We’re ready for Andrea now. Thanks, sweetie.’

  ‘Andrea?’ Kate queried as they waited, trying to ignore his throw-away endearments and the intimate familiarity in his voice when he spoke to women.

  ‘Mmm.’ He took the notes out of their folder. ‘One of my ladies.’

  ‘I see,’ she murmured stiffly, unable to prevent her feelings showing in her tone.

  ‘Do you?’

  Kate’s expression closed, her mouth tightening in disapproval. She had heard he was unorthodox but surely he wasn’t so unprofessional that he had any kind of relationship with a patient? Glancing up, she saw the knowing expression in his green eyes, her breath catching when he flashed her a naughty grin before he stood up and walked towards the door.

  ‘The very lady I’ve been longing to see.’ Kate watched him smile at whoever was approaching along the corridor, his tone affectionate. ‘Now I know why I make sure you’re my first appointment in the morning. Gets my day off to a good start to see a beautiful woman. Come on in, Andrea.’

  Steeling herself to be polite to some flirty bimbo, Kate struggled to prevent her mouth dropping open as Conor guided an older lady inside. She was clearly in pain, two walking sticks held with difficulty in her weakened hands. There was a quiet dignity in her thin face and pale blue eyes as Conor helped her across the room to a chair.

  ‘Seems you’ve already found yourself a beautiful woman,’ Andrea commented with a friendly smile, shifting around to find a more comfy position. ‘Trust you, Conor!’

  Kate was subjected to the full force of Conor’s sultry green eyes. ‘You’re both beautiful. I’m a lucky man this morning. Andrea, say hello to our new doctor, Kate Fisher. Kate, Andrea Milne,’ he introduced them, rounding his desk to sit down.

  ‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ Kate managed, trying to ignore the wild beat of her pulse after Conor’s intense look, the exchange with Andrea adding fuel to the rumours about his reputation.

  ‘You, too, dear. Good to see a fresh face…and such a pretty one.’

  Kate noticed Conor smile before he glanced at Andrea’s notes then returned his full attention to his patient. ‘How is my favourite lady today?’

  ‘Better for seeing you.’ Andrea chuckl
ed, colour washing her pale cheeks. ‘I wish I was thirty again, not sixty!’

  Conor winked at her, his smile teasing. ‘Me, too.’

  Kate waited while Conor chatted about Andrea’s symptoms, watching as he knelt on the floor to conduct a gentle examination of the lady’s troublesome hands and feet. There were signs of subluxation of the wrist, along with muscle wastage and the beginnings of deformity in the hands. She feared Andrea might go on to develop the classic swan-neck shape to the fingers typical of rheumatoid arthritis.

  ‘Any more trouble with your knee?’ Conor’s question was casual but Kate could see the care with which he checked the joint and listened to the reply.

  ‘Some twinges, but nothing like before,’ Andrea explained.

  ‘And your wrists?’

  ‘The splints you recommended have been a real help.’

  Conor sat back on his heels, pushing a wayward fall of hair back from his forehead as he smiled. ‘Good. We’ll keep a close eye on the knee. If it flares up again we can consider an injection of steroids into the joint to help the problem. How’s your other pain, Andrea? Any problems?’

  ‘I’m coping, dear,’ she allowed with a brave smile.

  ‘We want to do our best for you.’ Kate’s breath caught as Conor turned to her. ‘We caught Andrea’s condition early when she began having problems. The deterioration has been gradual, with a few more acute relapses from time to time. We referred her to the rheumatologist and started disease-modifying drugs,’ he explained, and Kate nodded, knowing the DMARDs worked slowly over months to gain their effect, hopefully slowing the progression of the disease and aiding stiffness and inflammation. ‘Andrea has been settled on methotrexate for a while now, which was combined with a low-dose steroid. We do regular checks on her blood pressure and symptom progression, plus the usual bloods, biochemistry and so on every three months.’ He paused again to smile at Andrea, resting a hand on her forearm. ‘You’ve not had any side-effects or new symptoms?’

  ‘No, dear. Just the usual stiffness and discomfort.’

  Conor frowned with concern. ‘Andrea’s had reduced appetite, tiredness and a loss of grip and mobility, but we try to balance a programme of medication to help manage her pain and use a team approach with the nurses and our visiting physiotherapist involved in keeping her as mobile as possible.’

  ‘And wonderful you all are,’ Andrea praised, her gratitude evident, along with her fondness for Conor.

  Kate felt chastened at the way she had judged Conor’s aptitude as a doctor. She had expected a self-interested romeo, if not playing at being a doctor then certainly not taking the job seriously. She had never imagined he would care this much. True, he dripped sex appeal from every pore, but behind the casual clothes, irreverent humour and wicked smile was a watchful, concerned doctor who worked to put people at their ease, valuing the whole person. And he took his time. If all his consultations were like this, they were in for a long day, but she didn’t mind because patient care was her top priority, too. She had been wrong about his professional skills, but although she could learn a lot from this man she knew it was a bad idea to spend more time than necessary in his company.

  After Conor has escorted Andrea along to Dorothy, the nurse practitioner, who would take care of the blood tests, he returned to the room and called for their next patient, a middle-aged man with breathing problems. Kate soon discovered Conor was as caring and irreverent with his male patients as his female ones.

  ‘We’ve had the X-rays back, Jim. I’m glad to say that there are no signs of growths or tumours.’

  The man’s relief was palpable. ‘Thank goodness for that’ He tried to laugh but stopped short, wheezing uncomfortably.

  ‘You do have a nasty infection and some fluid on the lungs,’ Conor continued, listening to Jim’s chest and taking his blood pressure. ‘I’m going to prescribe some new medication and I want you to come back and see me next week—call me sooner if you don’t notice any improvement or you are worried, OK?’

  ‘Sure, Doc. Thanks.’

  Conor tapped some instructions on his keyboard then signed the prescription form that emerged from the printer, handing it over with a rueful smile. ‘I suppose you haven’t stopped smoking, Jim?’

  ‘Well…’ The man looked sheepish. ‘I am trying, Doc but it’s not easy to give up. I’ve smoked since I was fourteen. I know it’s naughty but I enjoy it.’

  ‘Many naughty activities are pleasurable,’ Conor murmured as he rose to his feet, and Kate willed herself not to blush when he glanced at her with a cheeky smile, leaving her in no doubt what he was thinking. ‘In your case, though, Jim, smoking is damaging your health. I know it’s difficult, but do the best you can. If there’s anything I can do, referring you or trying patches, come and talk to me.’

  ‘I will, Doc. Thank you. Good to meet you, lass,’ Jim added, as Conor showed him from the room.

  Kate kept her eyes averted when Conor returned to his desk. She was struggling with his wicked aside, her mind disobeying her as she imagined in vivid detail far too many sinfully pleasurable and very naughty things she was sure Conor would be all too expert at doing.

  Heat flared inside her but she fought to ignore the unwanted desire. No way was she going there. Especially with him. She had too many issues to face while she was here without allowing herself to become one of the bevy of women Conor was rumoured to juggle in his life and adding another notch to his legendary bedpost.

  Her head knew all that…she just hoped the rest of her body would behave.

  ‘How about taking the next consultation yourself?’ Conor suggested, watching the play of emotions across Kate’s face.

  She had been annoyed with him earlier and he had known straight away that she had misinterpreted his comments about Andrea. It troubled him that Kate could imagine he behaved improperly with patients. Was it just him or had something happened that made her view male doctors with disdain and distrust? He hadn’t been able to resist teasing her. Keeping her off balance, combined with her genuine interest in the consultations, had banished her alarm, but now that he had suggested she take the next patient, the anxiety and flash of fear were back in those far-too-serious brown eyes.

  ‘Sure.’

  She wouldn’t look at him and he sensed the veneer of outward assurance was wafer-thin. Kate had a crisis of confidence. He had no idea why. Not yet. But he’d find out. ‘Our next patient is Julie MacIntyre. She’s 23 and a first-time mother. Her son Dominic is three months old.’

  ‘Any idea why she’s coming in today?’

  ‘No.’ He swallowed as Kate flicked strands of satiny hair behind her shoulder, exposing the curve of her neck. His heart started thudding again and he cursed under his breath. He had to stop looking at her and concentrate on the job. Thankful when Julie arrived, he rose to his feet, sweeping Dominic out of the young woman’s arms to hug him, something else that surprised Kate, he noticed. ‘Goodness, haven’t you grown, young man?’

  ‘He gets heavier by the day.’ Julie laughed.

  ‘Julie, meet our new doctor, Kate Fisher,’ Conor said, balancing chubby little Dominic against his chest, immediately understanding why Julie had brought her son to see them. ‘If it’s all right with you, Kate will take your consultation today.’

  ‘That’s fine.’ The young woman smiled. ‘Hello, Dr Fisher.’

  ‘Kate, please.’

  Relieved at the friendly opening, Conor realised he had yet to see Kate smile. As he relinquished Dominic back to Julie and returned to his chair, he watched Kate nervously begin the consultation, determined that his goal for the first week was to make her smile. Somehow. Even once.

  ‘What can we do for you today, Julie?’ Kate asked.

  ‘I’m really worried about Dominic’s eye,’ the young woman explained, her anxiety obvious. ‘I thought I should bring him right away.’

  ‘You did the best thing. That’s what we’re here for,’ Kate reassured her, as she moved round the desk, asking Julie
more questions while she focused on the baby. ‘Has Dominic ever had this problem before?’

  ‘No, there’s been no trouble with his eyes at all,’ Julie confirmed.

  ‘I’ll take a swab to be on the safe side,’ Kate explained, following Connor’s directions to fetch what she needed, ‘but I’m pretty sure it’s a blocked tear duct. It’s what we call sticky eye and it’s not uncommon. Usually the passage hollows out around the time the baby is born but sometimes this can be delayed and become blocked. It’s a problem that normally rights itself by the time the baby is a year or so old. Dominic’s eye doesn’t look infected, so I won’t be prescribing antibiotic drops just yet.’

  Impressed, Conor sat back and let her get on with the job, enjoying watching the graceful way she moved, her ease with the baby, her gentleness and the thoughtful way she explained things to Julie. Whatever panic Kate had experienced before the consultation had begun had vanished once she had got into her stride, though he was still interested to know its cause.

  ‘What will happen?’ Julie asked, jigging the happy baby on her knee once Kate had finished taking the swab with gentle care.

  ‘The best thing is for you to bathe his eye with boiled water to remove any debris. Make sure your hands are clean and keep the water comfortably warm. You can do it several times a day, perhaps when you have Dominic down to change his nappy.’

  Julie let out a sigh of relief. ‘Is that all?’

  ‘It should clear up on its own,’ Kate reassured her, almost managing a smile, Conor noted. ‘Come back any time if you are worried. We’ll see Dominic again in a few days to check how things are, and I’ll let you know when we have the results of the swab—but I’m pretty sure it is a blocked duct.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘No problem.’

  When Kate moved to see them out, Julie hesitated, grinning as she held Dominic out to Connor for a final cuddle, and Conor smiled, brushing a finger down one warm, pudgy cheek. ‘Take care, young man. You, too, Julie.’