The Doctor's One Night to Remember

by Charlotte Hawkes

  ‘Completely satisfied,’ she lied, wondering how best to extricate herself from such an intimate position without making things all the more awkward.

  At least her answer seemed to have eased the tension slightly.

  ‘You’re sure?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Completely satisfied?’

  And then he flexed against her and Isla marvelled at how the awkwardness dissipated in an instant. As though there was no room for it when her desire came cannoning back.

  ‘You think you can do better?’ she teased after a moment.

  His eyebrows shot up, and she liked that she had finally found a way to tease him back.

  ‘A challenge, Little Doc?’

  ‘A gauntlet.’ She grinned, only for it to fade into a low gasp as he shifted, pressing her legs apart again and nudging at her entrance.

  She slid her hands to his back, almost in readiness as he held himself steady, poised above her.

  ‘Then allow me to defend my honour,’ he growled.

  And, before she could answer, he thrust inside her. Deep, and big, and perfect. Isla cried out, low and wanton, her back arching up and sensation seeping all around her body. Nikhil slid out slowly, almost teasing her, and she opened her eyes to meet the cocoa-rich depths of his, seeing the same intense, primal expression that echoed inside her. Something walloped inside her chest but she didn’t care to examine it any further.

  Instead she simply gave herself up to the sensations, letting Nikhil drive the rhythm and matching him stroke for stroke, her fingers biting into the strong cords of muscles at his neck. And then she felt the wave cresting over her. That blissful shiver pouring straight through her.

  ‘Stop fighting it,’ he growled.

  Low and raw, into that crook of her neck. Making her tremble.

  ‘I’m not fighting,’ she countered.

  But maybe she was. Maybe she never wanted this moment, this feverish need, to end. What if this was the only time she would ever know something this good?

  As if reading her thoughts, Nikhil lifted his head, his eyes boring straight into her.

  ‘We have all night, Little Doc. And I intend to make use of every last minute of it.’

  Then, before she could answer, he slid his hand between them. Down. Right to the centre of her need. And he played with her.

  It was too much, and it was perfect.

  It was as though Isla’s entire world was imploding.

  She was catapulted into space. Into oblivion. The most glorious ride that anyone had surely ever known. All she could do was hold on tightly, and sob out his name—just as he’d predicted.

  She soared for miles. For ever. And when she finally began to return to herself she realised he was waiting for her, his face taut with his own need, lifting her legs to wrap around him, as though it could pull him in deeper.

  A shudder tore through him in an instant as he gripped her closer, building that pace back up. Faster now, harder, and more demanding. Grazing her fingers down his back, she cupped his backside, urging him on with such abandon that she barely recognised herself.

  A bolder side of herself that she’d never realised had lurked within. She rather thought she liked it.

  Then Nikhil thrust into her one last time, deep and true, and she couldn’t think any more. She just wanted to experience everything that this arresting man had to teach her.

  And this time, when Nikhil tossed her back into that glorious abyss, he followed, her name never sounding more beautiful on his lips.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘HIS NAME IS JALEEL,’ the security officer explained as he hastily led Isla down a rabbit warren of corridors to the ship’s laundry room.

  And not the Hestia, as had been planned, right up until the phone call from Head Office that morning—less than an hour after Nikhil had left her bed, and her hotel—but on the Cassiopeia itself.

  She could only imagine how furious he would be when he discovered her here—if he hadn’t already been advised. Goosebumps prickled over her skin at the mere thought.

  But there was no time to think about that now. She’d been in the middle of her orientation tour with her new medical team when the medical call had come in, and now she had Jaleel to concentrate on.

  Talk about being thrown in at the deep end.

  ‘His colleague said that he stood up when there was an open machine door above him and it cut his face,’ the security guard continued.

  ‘My report said that he’s unconscious,’ Isla stated, adrenalin pumping through her body.

  ‘Yeah, apparently he fell back, and they heard him cry out, and then he hit his head and fell unconscious.’

  ‘Understood. And it’s Jaleel?’

  ‘Jaleel, yeah.’

  She’d barely stepped on board—she had only just met the first of her colleagues, a stunning American nurse by the name of Jordanna—when the call had come in.

  The senior doctor—a Dr Turner, according to her email—had been in his consultation room with a patient when she’d arrived. And though he could probably have taken the emergency call, Isla knew that his priority would be passengers, whilst hers, as junior doctor, would be crew and staff. There would be some crossover, of course, but in broad terms that was how this ship worked, and the sooner she jumped into that, the better she would be likely to fit in.

  Finally arriving at the laundry room, Isla ducked inside and quickly took in the scene. The patient, Jaleel, was now conscious and clutching a blood-soaked towel to his face. Even from here, it looked like he was a mess, not helped by the sapping heat of the loud, airless room.

  ‘Hi, Jaleel—’ she flashed her brightest, most confident smile ‘—I’m Isla, the new doctor. Let’s have a look at the damage, shall we?’

  ‘He no speak English,’ the woman offered, before appearing to translate.

  ‘Thank you.’ Isla flashed her a smile as she crouched down beside Jaleel. She carefully helped him to peel the towel away and peered at the wound, then stood up.

  ‘Which machine?’

  ‘This...’ A young woman stepped forward. ‘This machine.’

  Isla inspected it carefully, looking for the likely metal culprit.

  ‘Is this where you caught it, Jaleel?’

  She didn’t really need to hear them say it; the blood was evidence enough. Still there was a quick exchange between the two colleagues before the woman issued a confirmation.

  ‘Okay, good.’ She crouched back down to check his vitals, shining a light into his eyes to check pupil responses.

  Ideally a CT would check that he hadn’t hit his head when he’d fallen backwards, but that wasn’t possible on board. Still, nothing jumped out at her as a cause for alarm, save for the one long, ugly gash running down his cheek.

  ‘It’s too deep to simply glue the sides together, so let’s get him back to the med centre, where I can stitch him back up,’ she told the security guard, before turning back to Jaleel’s colleague. ‘How long was he out, do you know?’

  ‘Out?’

  ‘Sorry, unconscious.’

  ‘Oh...maybe one minute? Maybe two?’

  So, not long. That was good. Nonetheless, it would be safer to transport him on the emergency gurney that they’d brought. Quickly, she set it up next to Jaleel and popped a collar around his neck for stability. She didn’t think he’d injured it in the fall, but until they got him back to the medical centre it wouldn’t hurt to take precautions.

  ‘Okay, gentlemen—’ she lifted her head to the security guys, who were also around the stretcher ‘—one, two, three, lift. Good. Now, let’s get him to the medical centre.’

  * * *

  Jordanna was bustling around quickly and efficiently as Isla arrived in the medical centre, its location in the passenger area of the ship evident as they left behind the cold grey metal and vinyl floor of the crew de
cks and stepped into the pristine white-walled and plushly carpeted passenger areas.

  This time Dr Turner could be seen behind his desk, his consultation door open. He was an older gentleman dressed in an immaculate uniform, and out of the corner of her eye Isla was aware that he’d stood up as soon as she’d entered with Jaleel.

  She kept her focus on her patient. No doubt the medical team would all be a little uncertain of her, as a new arrival, but the better she performed here, the quicker she proved herself as a valuable member of the team.

  ‘Jordanna, can you go ahead and ready some gauze swabs to staunch the bleeding once I remove this towel from Jaleel’s face, and a suture kit, please?’

  ‘Sure, Dr Sinclair.’

  ‘And some local anaesthetic,’ added Isla.

  She busied herself checking over Jaleel’s neck once more, before she finally removed the collar. Then, as Jordanna laid out all the equipment for her, she glanced at Jaleel’s colleague and smiled gently.

  ‘Can you warn him that the needle will need to go as close to the edges of the wound as possible, so it’s going to be uncomfortable?’

  She waited for Jaleel to nod his confirmation, and then she lifted the syringe.

  ‘Okay, here we go.’

  A few moments later, as the anaesthetic began to kick in, she picked up a small probe.

  ‘I just want to check there is no debris in there. No metal from the machine or anything. He might feel his cheek moving elsewhere, but he won’t feel any pain.’

  As his friend translated, Jaleel gave them both a weak nod. It occurred to Isla that a significant proportion of his—and his friend’s—anxiety might have more to do with the fact that he wanted to get back to work. It was widely acknowledged that the laundry was one of the locations on the ship where sickness was least tolerated.

  Picking up the needle and sutures, Isla began one tiny stitch after another, working slowly and methodically to draw the edges of the wound together, trying to make it as neat and unobtrusive as possible. With a facial wound this deep, she would have preferred it to have been left to a plastic surgeon—but that wasn’t an option out here. All Jaleel had was her, so she would be damned sure she made it as good a job as possible.

  By the time she was finished, Jaleel had reluctantly allowed himself to be talked into twelve hours’ observation, his colleague had shot off to try to catch up on the mountain of laundry that no doubt awaited her, and the report logged in the computer system, Isla looked up to see Jordanna, Dr Turner and a couple of other medical staff approaching her.

  ‘Nice job, Dr Sinclair.’ Jordanna smiled welcomingly.

  ‘Isla,’ she corrected instantly, relieved that her first impression had apparently gone down so well.

  ‘Isla,’ the nurse echoed happily.

  ‘Yes, very competent,’ the senior doctor commended in a cut-glass accent.

  She’d assumed he’d been happy enough when he’d left her to it as she’d started cleaning up the wound, but the confirmation was nice all the same.

  ‘And you’re also the doctor who stepped in to look after our rather hot-headed crewman yesterday?’

  ‘I just happened to be on scene.’ Isla smiled again.

  ‘Well, I’m glad you could change ships and step into our medical team at the last minute. Hestia’s loss is Cassiopeia’s gain indeed.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Isla replied sincerely. Her fears about being seen as a cuckoo in the previous doctor’s nest were appearing unfounded.

  At least they were with the medical team. The same wouldn’t necessarily be said for Nikhil.

  Nikhil.

  Isla shut down the unbidden thought and concentrated on her new colleague.

  ‘Welcome to our ship’s medical centre, Dr Sinclair,’ the older man continued. ‘I’m Dr Turner, as I’m sure you’ve deduced. When appropriate, you can call me Reginald.’

  Presumably appropriate would be situations like now, when it was just the medical team, or when it was just officers. Nevertheless, Isla decided that the first time she addressed him should also be more official.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Dr Turner.’ Isla smiled warmly, eying his outstretched hand for a fraction of a moment before shaking it confidently.

  Her training had taught her that shaking hands on board was discouraged, but she imagined that Dr Turner was old school and didn’t care much for such regulations. It was his way of getting the measure of his colleagues, and Isla felt a punch of triumph when he gave a tacit nod of approval, before turning to one of the other nurses who Isla had yet to meet.

  ‘I’m Lisa,’ announced an Australian nurse.

  ‘Gerd.’ A German man stepped forward, clearly the senior nurse.

  ‘Shall we all have some tea, and introduce ourselves properly?’ Reginald boomed.

  ‘Good idea.’ Gerd grinned, and headed out of the room and into the beautiful, exotic-flower-strewn reception.

  It felt as though she’d passed his first subtle test and he was genuinely pleased to have her on board. Though Nikhil’s reaction to the news would inevitably be an entirely different matter. It was impossible to ignore the thought any longer, though she commended herself for doing so well up until that point. She hadn’t thought of him when she’d been treating Jaleel. She certainly hadn’t thought of him when Head Office had called a few hours ago and asked her—though she didn’t think she had genuinely had much choice in the matter—to transfer to the Cassiopeia.

  Liar, whispered a voice inside her head. He was the first thing you thought when you got that call.

  Isla’s heart jolted abruptly. He was bound to be furious. He’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t sleep with colleagues, and that he was only interested in her because she was going to be on board a different ship.

  And now, here she was, the new stand-in doctor on the Queen Cassiopeia.

  Well, he wasn’t the only one who had been thrown by the sudden turn of events, she told herself defiantly. She hadn’t planned this. Sleeping with the boss certainly hadn’t been on her cruise ship to-do list. And if he thought that she was going to be angling for a repeat performance, then she would be more than happy to set him straight.

  After Bradley, there was no way she wanted anything complicated with anyone. Even someone who looked like Nikhil, who kissed like Nikhil and never mind the rest of his incredible arsenal of skills.

  Abruptly, her traitorous body gave a delicious shiver at the memory.

  Could it only be this morning that he’d left her bed? It felt like a lifetime ago. She’d gone down to breakfast alone, somewhere between floating on air after their night together and fighting the strangest sense of...what she could only describe as loss, when her mobile had rung and she’d looked down to see the Port-Star company name—and she’d just known.

  Isla pretended that the little celebratory dance that had started in her belly was because she was effectively being upgraded from a two-week tour of the South Americas on the Jewel of Hestia to a two-month round-the-world tour on the stunning Queen Cassiopeia.

  The truth, she feared, was far more shameful.

  Her body wasn’t spinning crazily at the fact that the cruise liner was the best ship in the fleet—possibly the world; it was spiralling madly at the fact that it was Nikhil’s ship. And some naïve part of herself appeared to be holding onto the fantasy notion that, on some secret level, Nikhil might be a tiny bit pleased to see her too.

  ‘Have you seen around our little terrain down here?’ Reginald asked, hauling her back to the present.

  ‘Yes, I showed Isla the consultation rooms, the crew ward and the private rooms for the passengers before the emergency,’ Jordanna announced quickly, clearly not wanting to be seen to be slacking.

  ‘It’s more luxurious than any medical centre I’ve ever worked in before.’ Isla laughed.

  ‘Isn’t
it?’ The senior doctor’s proud smile said it all. ‘Not to mention the fact that we get to see the world. I might not have the private practice that some of my former med school compatriots might have, but how many of them can intersperse their surgeries with visits to the Pyramids in Egypt, the Sydney Opera House or the Norwegian fjords?’

  ‘So we do get to visit these places?’ Isla asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Often.’

  ‘It’s an amazing lifestyle,’ chorused the three nurses simultaneously.

  ‘They said so on the course, and in the training documents,’ Isla admitted. ‘But I didn’t know if it really worked well in practice.’

  ‘It works,’ Reginald assured her. ‘Normally, at the start of every cruise, our team gets together and calls dibs on the places they really want to visit. Because you’re coming in partway through, you’ve missed out on that, so you’ll have to make do with the sights that Dr Morris—the doctor you’ve replaced—chose, but I’m sure you’ll be happy.’

  ‘I can’t recall all of his selections,’ Gerd added, ‘but I think some of them included a banana plantation in Ecuador, a high-speed boating afternoon in Mexico and an exclusive restaurant in Los Angeles. Although I think one of those might have been as a shore doctor on duty.’

  ‘Lucky you.’ Lisa laughed. ‘Ecuador is coming up soon.’

  ‘I have a museum in Peru and the Panama Canal,’ Reginald added. ‘So, you see, we keep one doctor on duty onboard, and the other can go ashore.’

  ‘And we usually keep one nurse on board, whilst the other two can go ashore.’ Lisa grinned. ‘It isn’t a bad way to see the world.’

  ‘It isn’t bad at all,’ agreed Isla.

  ‘Lisa and I are going for a break below; shall we show you around?’ Jordanna asked suddenly. ‘Surgery isn’t for another couple of hours, and Gerd is on duty until then.’

  ‘Sure; that would be lovely.’ Isla fought to sound even, and calm.

  Being invited to join the two nurses was proof that they had begun to like her, which would make the entire transition a lot easier.