HOSPITAL HEARTBREAKER
BY
MARINA OLIVER
Fleur enjoys working at Chad's, a big London hospital, and hopes the rumours from her previous hospital will not follow her.
Only a few people know how she was kissed by an attractive patient.
Then she discovers he is surgeon Russell Delaney, the heartthrob of Chad's, and despite his preoccupation with the lovely Rowena Kingsley, seems determined to add her to his list of conquests.
Hospital Heartbreaker
By Marina Oliver
Copyright © 2012 Marina Oliver
Smashwords Edition
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Cover Design by Debbie Oliver
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Print editions published under the pseudonym Bridget Thorn 1988 by Robert Hale and 1997 by Dales.
See details of other books by Marina Oliver at http:/www.marina-oliver.net.
AUTHOR NOTE
Hospital romances are always popular. The dedicated surgeons, the caring nurses, the sense of working together, often in life-threatening situations, seem to stimulate romance.
HOSPITAL HEARTBREAKER
BY MARINA OLIVER
Chapter 1
Fleur paused in the doorway of the nurses' flats and groped in her bag for her umbrella. How different it was this morning, she thought with a sigh, pulling her cloak about her and setting off along the broad tree-lined path towards the hospital.
When she had last been on duty the autumn sun had been strong, a light breeze riffling the crisp brown leaves underfoot, and the faintest whiff of bonfires hanging in the air.
Now the raindrops dripped steadily from stark, menacing branches onto drifts of muddy, oozily glistening leaves, dank and ugly, dark clouds filled the sky, and the air was damp and cold instead of briskly invigorating.
Fleur sighed again. The weather mirrored her mood. In bright sun she would have been glad to leave St John's, the modern, busy midland hospital where she had trained and where, until recently, she had been so happy. Her sensible move to Chad's, a famous London hospital, good both for her career and her personal relationships, now seemed suspiciously like escape.
'Hi, Fleur, wait!' a voice called, and Fleur turned as she heard the light footsteps pounding along behind her.
'It's OK, Anne,' she said teasingly, 'you're not late.'
'Perhaps as well,' puffed the small dark girl. 'I don't want a reputation for unpunctuality to follow me. It's been an unfair handicap since my watch broke down on Prelim!'
Fleur laughed. 'And on first ward, and geriatrics, not to mention theatre,' she murmured provocatively. 'Nurse Fleet, I wish your actions were more in accord with your name!' she added, in imitation of the broad Scottish accent of the Senior Nurse.
Anne Fleet groaned. 'That's been another handicap all my life. I came last even at playgroup, and have always been teased unmercifully about it. The sooner I change it the better. Let's hope there are eligible Registrars at Chad's.'
'I've had enough of men for a while,' Fleur replied as lightly as she could and Anne, aware her remark had been slightly tactless, hastily changed the subject.
'I'm looking forward to our flat,' she said. 'I still think I'm dreaming, it's so close to the hospital, and convenient to tubes and everything. Only fifteen minutes to Oxford Street! Think of all those West End shops, and the clothes!'
'And the prices,' Fleur said dryly. 'We're paying more rent than we thought and won't have much to spare for clothes.'
She recalled how thankful she'd been when Anne had applied for a course at Chad's. It would make so much difference to be with an old friend, and she and Anne had been at school together before starting their training, so knew one another well.
'We can always find a third girl. I wouldn't mind that tiny boxroom, there's just room for a bed.'
'But not all your clothes.'
Anne giggled. She was notorious for snapping up bargains in all the sales, and even at jumble sales held by the League of Hospital Friends. Many she never wore, but was always happy to lend them to her friends when they were desperate for a new top or a different party dress.
'I'm having a throwing out session tonight,' she promised, and Fleur chuckled. The only clothes to be discarded would be too small, or so disreputable as to be beyond repair.
'See you at lunch if Sister will let me go at twelve,' she replied, and waved as she turned down a side path towards Men's Medical, set in one of the side wings of this sprawling building.
*
Chad's would be different, she mused. No edge of town green field site for the busy London hospital, crammed in between row after row of offices and houses. At least there was a large park nearby, she reminded herself, recalling her only previous visit. It would be something to remind her of the country.
A few minutes later she walked into the ward and smiled inwardly as Sister Beasley glanced at her watch. She took care never to give Sister cause for genuine complaint, and had only two more days to endure the hostility of the older girl.
'Staff Nurse Tremaine, there's a new patient in the side ward, suspected concussion. Make him comfortable first,' she said sharply, and turned to snap a reprimand at a newly qualified nurse who was fiddling with her insecurely attached hat.
Fleur, reprehensibly, winked at the other girl, who smothered a giggle, and went to the side wards, small rooms opening from a corridor beyond the main ward.
The first two contained old patients, Fleur saw, glancing through the observation windows in the doors. She had almost reached the second pair when she halted abruptly.
One of the doors had opened and a tall, thin-faced nurse emerged. She glanced smugly at Fleur and paused.
'I thought you'd moved to Casualty,' Fleur exclaimed.
'Only temporarily,' the other replied. 'I'm having your job, so they sent me back early. I wonder how you'll make out at Chad's? They have very high standards there.'
Fleur, with a great effort, remained silent. She suspected most of her problems arose from the envy and malice of Liza Price, but she could prove nothing. It would serve no purpose to quarrel. She turned away, but Liza came close beside her.
'Your new patient is in room four,' she said loudly. 'Just the right type for you, Nurse Flirt!'
Clenching her hands and gritting her teeth, Fleur ignored this jibe. Pretty, lively, popular with patients and male staff, the pun on her name had at first seemed rather a joke. Now, though, after the unfair accusations that had poisoned the last few months, she found it hard to remain silent as her tormenter deliberately tried to provoke her.
She turned abruptly towards room four, where the door was slightly open. Without glancing through the observation she marched straight in. Liza behind her gave a low laugh, then Fleur's attention was fully taken up with the man on the bed.
'No, you mustn't,' she exclaimed, moving swiftly towards him and putting a hand on his shoulder.
He was sitting on the side of the bed, bending over the locker, obviously searching for something in it. The regulation h
ospital pyjamas had been tossed into the corner of the room and all Fleur could see of her new patient was a head of ruffled dark hair, crisp and wavy and slightly long, broad muscular shoulders, a long bronzed back and slim athletic hips.
A tremor, probably alarm, shook her as she touched him. She had an inexplicable urge to snatch her tingling fingers away from his smooth, firm flesh. No patient with suspected concussion should be moving about, she thought dazedly. He might be perfectly all right, but until the tests had been completed no chances should be taken.
'You must lie down,' she ordered firmly, and tried to push him down onto the pillows. He ignored her totally and her hands met only resistance. She might have been invisible and utterly helpless. She pushed more strongly, but achieved nothing apart from an irritable shrugging of his shoulders. At least he knew she was there, she thought ruefully, and then jumped as he spoke.
'Where the hell are my clothes?' a deep voice demanded, and Fleur found herself looking down into furious blue eyes deep-set in a hard, strong, tanned face.
'You can't leave here yet,' Fleur said as soothingly as she could, trying to stop her voice from shaking. It was utterly ridiculous that she, an experienced staff nurse, should be made to feel like a trembling beginner just because an arrogant patient snapped her head off. 'There are tests to complete, and meanwhile you must stay in bed. I'll wash and shave you'
'The devil you will!' the patient interrupted furiously, beginning to rise to his feet. Then, as he became aware of his state of nudity, he grinned disarmingly at her, his eyes changing from glittering, hard flints to twinkling sapphires. Decorously, but utterly without embarrassment, he draped the sheets about him as he subsided back onto the side of the bed.
'You may have concussion,' Fleur struggled to control her trembling voice. 'You must rest until we have all the results.'
'Crazy! I haven't got concussion. My brain is working perfectly adequately to confirm that without a scan and a battery of temperature charts,' he replied scathingly. 'But if you're going to be my nurse I'm willing to stay in bed, though I'm damned if you're going to shave me! Other attentions I might appreciate, if you live up to your name, Nurse Flirt,' he added outrageously, and Fleur's cheeks flamed.
'I'm Staff Nurse Tremaine,' she retorted angrily, turning to retrieve the pyjamas from the floor. 'Please put them back on,' she said in her frostiest and bossiest tone, but he made no move to take them from her outstretched hand.
'You look even prettier when you're angry, cheeks the colour of damask roses,' he remarked coolly. 'Honey blonde, big green eyes, eminently kissable lips, and,' he added musingly as he let his gaze wander lingeringly and appreciatively down towards her small and shapely but sensibly shod feet, 'the sort of long legs and delectably tempting figure to drive a man wild.'
'Your pyjamas!' Fleur said furiously, struggling to retain some composure under his insultingly candid regard.
He grinned and leaned back on one elbow.
'I'm feeling weak suddenly,' he remarked, with a gleam in his eyes, but his voice was as strong as ever. Fleur gritted her teeth. 'You'll have to help me.'
*
Fleur was about to refuse, then her professional training came to her rescue. Forcing herself to control the sudden trembling that gripped her limbs she stepped closer, and held the jacket open. Then, realising he had no intention of helping her, she took the nearest arm and thrust it, much less gently than she would normally have done, through the sleeve.
He looked at her, his eyes narrowed into slits as she paused before reaching to take the arm he was propping himself upon. To grasp it she had to lean across him. Though he was leaning backwards she felt his muscles tense as she removed his prop, and he held himself rigid until she had struggled to pull on the other sleeve. Then, so suddenly that she could do nothing to prevent it, he flopped against the pillows and his arms, hard, strong and determined, had pulled her on top of him.
Fleur forgot everything as she struggled, panic-stricken, to release herself, but he had imprisoned her arms within his own, and however hard she twisted away from him she could do nothing to prevent his lips, hard and warm, claiming hers as he put one hand behind her head and forced her mouth down to his.
She felt giddy, her senses almost leaving her as she lay on top of his hard body, his lips teasing hers into submission and instinctive response. Her heart pounding, her thoughts in complete confusion, Fleur was shamingly aware of the sudden almost overwhelming desire to submit to him which surged through her body, and she redoubled her efforts to free herself.
At last he paused for breath, and his eyes laughed up at her as he finally released her.
'Mm, delicious, like nectar,' he murmured, and remained smiling as Fleur, all her training and consideration for patients driven out of her thoughts, dealt him a stinging slap on the cheeks as she scrambled shakily from the bed.
'Staff Nurse Tremaine!'
Fleur turned, flushed, dishevelled, and furious, to see Sister Beasley standing in the doorway. Even though her eyes gleamed with satisfaction at having, this time, caught Fleur behaving badly, she looked genuinely shocked.
'This – fraud – is no more concussed than I am!' Fleur said furiously. 'I want to make a complaint! He assaulted me!'
'Wait in my office, Staff!' Sister cut in sharply. 'Your reputation won't be enhanced by this episode. Staff Nurse Price will take over your duties.'
Dismayed, Fleur noticed Liza Price behind Sister, openly gloating at her discomfiture. Now there would be no chance of forgetting. Before lunchtime the whole of the hospital would know, or at least would have heard the very biased version which Liza and Sister would spread.
She began to protest, then shrugged and brushed past Liza. Her eyes were misting and she did not see the curious glances of the nurses as she marched, stony faced, cap and hair awry, but with her head thrown high, to the office and waited for Sister Beasley.
*
While she waited she resolved not to plead with the woman who hated her. She was bound to be called to the Nurse Manager for a reprimand, and she would explain to her.
Whether she would be believed was another matter, but despite vague accusations of undue friendliness and worse with male patients, Sister had never been able to substantiate her insinuations. Fleur's only previous interview with the Nurse Manager had ended inconclusively, without a reprimand or warning to mar her record, but she had the distinct feeling that the elderly Miss Jackson considered only definite proof of Sister's charges was lacking. This time, innocent as she was, circumstances would be against her.
'I don't want to hear your excuses,' Sister Beasley announced a few minutes later, after she had taken a seat behind her desk and looked at Fleur with ill-concealed triumph. 'I am sending you off duty in the ward, but you are to remain in your room and wait to be called to see Miss Jackson. It's a great pity your time here should end so appallingly, but no more than I expected,' Sister added gloatingly, and Fleur had to make a great effort not to commit a genuine offence by telling the older girl exactly what she thought of her.
She left the office silently, and gained some slight satisfaction at Sister's frustrated look. Without speaking to any of the other nurses – they would soon know what had happened, though it would no doubt be a totally incorrect version – she walked out and went back to the small studio flat which had been her home since she had arrived at the hospital, fresh from school and eager to follow her chosen career.
She made coffee but could not drink it. She began to pack her cases, thankful to be leaving soon, but furiously angry it should be in such a manner. She liked St John's, and got on well with most of the staff. There had been trouble only with Liza Price, resentful that so often Fleur had beaten her to the top place in examinations, and Sister Beasley, who had taken over Men's Medical a few months previously.
'They're jealous cats!' Anne declared when she rushed in, having sacrificed her lunch break to come and discover the truth of the rumours flying about the hospital. 'It's
so unfair, that you should be punished for what that dreadful man did,' she went on as she made tea and tried to persuade Fleur to eat.
'At least they can't sack me,' Fleur attempted to joke.
'No, but gossip spreads, even to Chad's,' Anne said. 'If you won't eat I'll have some biscuits. Beastly Beasley says you're leaving to follow Steve Markham.'
'She's said that since I handed in my notice,' Fleur replied, 'and it's not true. I didn't know he'd gone to Chad's until after I got the job. We didn't keep in touch.'
'She won't believe that, she was so mad when he took you out. Before that she considered him her property.'
'If it would help, I wish I could give him to her! I don't know whether I dislike men or women most at this moment!'
'It's when they get together, or don't, that there's trouble. At least you'll be working on a women's ward at Chad's.'
'I should have applied to an all-women hospital, there'll still be too many men around for my liking,' was all Fleur would reply, and soon afterwards Anne had to leave to go back on duty.
'Please eat something,' she begged. 'I'll contradict Liza and La Beasley. When do you see the Manager?'
'I haven't been summoned. Thanks, Anne,' she added.
People would not believe Anne, Fleur thought gloomily, since her friend would be expected to support her. But she wished Miss Jackson would call her. This waiting, not knowing what was happening, was unbearable.
Some hours later she had still heard nothing. She was pacing up and down the small room when she heard running feet in the corridor.
The door burst open and Anne almost fell into the room.
'Here, a note Beasley asked me to bring you,' she gasped, thrusting a sealed envelope at Fleur. 'Open it, quickly.'
Her hands shaking slightly, Fleur did so and read the brief missive inside. Then she looked up, her green eyes puzzled.
'I'm to report for duty in the morning as usual,' she said slowly. 'Anne, what does it mean?'
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