It was a cold, sunny morning, with a touch of frost in the air when she came off duty, and after a cup of coffee with Anne, who had a late start that morning watching a session of keyhole surgery, she decided to walk home.
'I'll get these things, they'll keep,' she said as she rose to leave the canteen, a list in her hand. They had been discussing their party, arranged for two weeks time.
'You can get the paper plates from that shop I found,' Anne reminded her. 'Can you carry all the tins?'
'If not I'll go out again this afternoon, when I've slept.'
*
She went out, swinging along with light, supple strides in the fresh morning air. The morning rush hour was over, and traffic was light.
She wore her new coat over a thick sweater and her brown skirt, and her hair swung in a loose golden curtain about her head. Relishing the crisp weather after days of damp miserable cold, she smiled as she walked along, staring with bright, eager eyes at the old buildings, pausing occasionally to read a blue plaque which told her who had lived there. She must buy a guide book and walk home more frequently. It would be good for her, and she could explore on the way.
She bought paper cups, plates and napkins, plastic cutlery, and, because she could not resist them, a set of mugs depicting scenes from London life. Most of their guests would have to make do with the paper cups for wine, but they would be able to serve coffee in these.
She was struggling to manage all her shopping, rather more bulky than she had intended, and fish in her bag for the key to the flat, when a familiar voice spoke just behind her.
'Can I help?' and before she could turn round Russell Delaney had deftly relieved her of several carrier bags.
'What are you doing here?' she demanded, when she had recovered her breath.
'Oh, I just happened to be passing,' he replied, 'and saw a damsel in distress. Weren't you looking for your key?'
Fleur looked down at her shoulder bag, for the moment uncomprehending, then glanced back at him suspiciously.
'Thank you, I can manage,' she said curtly, trying unsuccessfully to retrieve the shopping from his grasp.
'It would be simpler to open the door while I hold these,' he remarked, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. Then he glanced at the contents, and back at Fleur. 'A party?' he asked softly.
'Please give them back to me,' she replied sharply.
'There's no need to be afraid of me,' he said gently. 'I want to apologise. I must have been suffering from concussion, after all,' he added with a grin. 'Or delusions I was in heaven and an angel was nursing me. Now, will you let me take you to dinner soon to make amends?'
Fleur gulped in amazement. How could he, so recently engaged, ask another girl for a date?
'I don't think that would stop the rumours,' she snapped. 'Now go away, I can manage perfectly well by myself!'
'Rumours are usually inaccurate, so why be concerned? Why don't you open the door? Afraid I'll force my way in?' he asked, amused.
Fleur looked hastily away. That had been in her mind.
'I promise I won't,' he added, laughter in his voice, and she glanced quickly back at him, frowning in disbelief.
'I've little reason to trust you,' she said bitterly.
'Then you'll have to get to know me better,' he replied swiftly. 'A bargain. As you're too scared to trust yourself to my tender mercies I'll go straight away now on condition I'm invited to your party.'
Fleur was astounded, and before she could think of something scathing enough to say he smoothly deposited the shopping bags at her feet, gave her a mocking smile and walked away.
*
She stared after him, bemused, until she saw him open the door of a car some hundred yards away. Not a Porsche now, she noted absently, but although she could not recognise what else it was, it certainly was not a common make.
Then she began to wonder why he had been here. It was not the sort of street where he would have friends, and there were no shops nearby that might attract him. Also it was incredibly difficult to find a parking place, so how long had he been parked so suspiciously close to the flat?
She shrugged away the thought that he had discovered her address from the hospital records and come on purpose to waylay her. If he really wanted to speak to her he could do so at Chad's. Of course it would add to the rumours but he had started them in the first place, so presumably he had no conscience about what he had done, and no wish to hide anything from Rowena.
It must have been a coincidence. She would not believe anything else, she told herself firmly, and then turned to her door as he drove past, waving casually.
Why, she chided herself angrily as she fumbled again for her key, had she stared after him so stupidly? He would preen himself, thinking she had been watching him, whereas she had been so bemused she had not been aware of what she was looking at.
Growing more and more angry with herself she eventually controlled her trembling fingers and unlocked the door. She deposited the shopping in the kitchen, then stood staring at it, once more distracted. Why had he tried to make that ridiculous bargain with her? He wouldn't want to come to their party.
But what if he did, an insistent inner voice asked. Fleur shrugged. It was impossible. He meant to tease her, for some inexplicable reason. Besides, she thought hopefully, he had asked for no details and would not know when to come.
He knew where she lived, the inner voice reminded her. Once again she tried to ignore it, and when that failed, to explain away their meeting as pure coincidence.
She decided, after several hours of sleepless tossing, not to tell Anne. Her friend would be concerned and it was pointless for both of them to start worrying about whether Russell Delaney would gatecrash their party.
She hurriedly decided to invite two of the younger housemen, burly, rugger playing six-footers, to the party. Russell was also a rugger player, she recalled, and more than six feet tall, then tried to persuade herself that since he had been injured he couldn't be very good. Two of them should be able to throw him out if he did gatecrash.
She shrugged away the thought that they might not relish ejecting their superior from a party, however private it was. Surely he would not come. But she would ask the others.
For some days she saw nothing of Russell. On nights, she was insulated from the hospital gossip, and the ward was peaceful until, around midnight on her last night, an emergency patient was admitted after an operation for burst appendix.
Fleur had just settled the patient, a woman in her mid-twenties, and was sitting beside her monitoring a faint and irregular pulse when she heard soft footsteps approaching.
'Go and have your break my sweet, I'll stay here. That pulse rate is worrying and I want to be sure she's OK.'
Fleur glanced up, startled, and just prevented herself from making some angry comment. Russell, his eyes looking tired, was smiling down at her.
She stood abruptly, but careful not to disturb the other patients, some of whom had wakened when the new patient had been wheeled in, and who were just dropping off to sleep again.
'Go and eat, then I'd appreciate a cup of coffee.'
*
Fleur swallowed. He was on duty, and she could scarcely refuse that, or disobey him. Besides, she needed to get away from the turmoil his sudden appearance, and the endearment he had so reprehensibly used, had caused in her body.
She was trembling, her own pulse rate distinctly raised. Not surprising, perhaps, for his soft approach had startled her.
She had a few quiet words with the other staff nurse, answered an eager query from the new girl, anxious to learn all she could of the various abdominal operations she was seeing, and went to the canteen. She forced herself to eat some sausages and chips, the only meal the night staff seemed able to produce, and had just pushed away the plate, half full, when Steve came in. He crossed to her table, smiled wearily and sat down.
'That was a near one,' he commented. 'Another half an hour and even Russell wouldn't have been
able to save her.'
'You've been in theatre? You mean the appendicectomy?'
'Yes. She's on your ward, isn't she? Russell said he'd check on her, she lost a huge amount of blood in theatre. I think he intends to stay all night unless another emergency comes in, he's worried she might relapse. Lord knows how he does it, I can't. I need cat naps on night call, and this is my first night on. Russell was called out twice last night, a kid with something he'd swallowed piercing his stomach wall, then two drunken idiots who'd smashed up their motor bike as well as themselves. And I know he had a full list today.'
'He's up there now, no doubt waiting for his cup of coffee,' Fleur said, with a sudden keen desire to rush back to the ward. He'd need that coffee, she was thinking. No wonder he looked exhausted if this was his second night without sleep.
A vivid picture suddenly came to her mind, one she had unsuccessfully tried to banish on many previous occasions, of him sitting on that hospital bed, his tanned, naked back towards her. Now there was an addition to that picture, of herself on the bed beside him, smoothing the tiredness out of him with gentle massage of his broad shoulders and strong neck muscles.
'I ought to go back,' she said hurriedly, hoping her unruly thoughts did not show in her face.
'Wait a moment. I've seen so little of you. Will you come out to dinner with me when you're off nights?'
'I'd love to. Thanks, Steve. It's my last duty tonight.'
'Then how about Saturday, it will give you a couple of days to recover. I'll pick you up at seven, OK?'
'Fine. I must go now, though.'
*
Russell was standing beside the bed, carefully adjusting the intravenous infusion. She went softly into the small kitchen and switched on the kettle, found a jug and spooned coffee into it.
She had just poured on the water when a slight sound made her look up. He was leaning against the kitchen doorway.
'How is she?'
'I think she'll be OK. It was touch and go, and she'll need watching for a day or so.'
'Shall I go and sit by her?' Fleur asked quickly. 'The coffee will be ready in a few moments.'
'Then you can have some too. Your youngster is on watch. She seems a bright kid, reliable and anxious to learn, asking questions. She'll call if there's any change.'
As she did not move, he stepped across the tiny kitchen, picked up the jug, and poured two cups of coffee. Then as he turned to reach for the door of the fridge his arm brushed against Fleur's breast, and she felt as though she had been electrocuted, so intense was the shock which went through her.
He did not seem to notice the contact, or her instinctive step backwards, but took a bottle of milk from the fridge, poured some into the saucepan and set it on the hotplate.
'I'm sorry, I thought you'd prefer it black,' Fleur stammered in some confusion.
'Only after a good meal,' he explained, and I don't seem to have eaten for days. Are there any biscuits? I recall that Sister Reynolds usually keeps a good supply.'
He was investigating a couple of tins as he spoke, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
'What have we here? Brandy snaps? And home made, I'll swear. I haven't seen anything looking so good for years. Do you think I dare help myself?'
'Of – of course,' Fleur said, confused once again.
The rich gingery scent mingled with the aroma of the coffee. Fleur turned away to watch the milk, adding it to both cups.
'Mm, delicious. Where on earth did Sister find them? Won't you have one? There won't be any left for you soon.'
'I – I made them, I like them, especially on nights,' Fleur said slowly. 'Please, have as many as you wish.'
He took another, nodding approval. 'Is this your one speciality, or do you cook everything so deliciously?'
'I enjoy cooking,' Fleur said defensively, suspecting he was laughing at her.
He grinned, and shut the tin. 'A woman of many talents. Perhaps instead of taking you out to dinner I ought to be encouraging you to cook one. Much more intimate than a crowded restaurant, however discreetly separated the tables are.'
Fleur frowned and shook her head. 'I'm not coming out with you.'
'Why not?'
'Why not?' she repeated, stupified. How could he possibly try to date another girl after getting engaged to Rowena.
'That's what I said. What's to stop me from taking you out, especially as I still haven't apologised adequately?'
Fleur took a deep breath. 'I don't appreciate being the butt of sly jokes,' she said bitingly. 'It was bad enough finding out you worked at Chad's, and having to meet you on the wards, without everyone else sniggering about what you – what happened, watching to see what other tricks you had planned for me! And I don't two-time anyone, whatever you do! You behaved despicably then, you could have got me the sack and ruined my career, and you're doing your best to wreck my life here as well, when all I want to do is forget I ever saw you!'
He was staring at her in amazement, his eyes narrowed to thin slits, a white line of fury about his lips.
'You vicious little prude!' he ejaculated. 'One kiss, which I admit should not have happened, but which was far too tempting to refuse, and you make all this fuss! Anyone would think I'd raped you at the very least! Where the devil did you get your reputation, Nurse Flirt?'
*
With that, before Fleur realised his attention or could move to avoid him, he stepped towards her where she stood at the far end of the narrow, tiny kitchen.
Seizing her hands, which she had instinctively raised in front of her, he pulled them behind her and grasped both in one of his own iron-strong hands, while the other forced her head round as she tried desperately to evade him, and his lips, hard, warm, and insistent, came down on hers.
Pinned against the cupboards behind her, Fleur had no chance of avoiding him, and her senses reeled as once more she felt that hard, muscular body against her own. Sensations she had been trying desperately and ineffectually to erase from her mind swept back in even greater force, and she was unaware of everything except the need to remain unresponsive.
Summoning all her willpower she somehow stayed passive, preventing her body from reacting to the strange and potent forces he was releasing in her. Instinctively she knew that if she once permitted him to realise the effect he had on her, she would be totally lost.
The battle was almost more than she could bear. His lips grew soft and gently explored hers, which quivered with the effort not to merge in to his. A gentle finger stroked the curve of her cheek, down across her firm little chin, and then travelled unbearably slowly along her throat until reluctantly, it seemed, it stopped at the collar of her uniform.
Suppressing a moan of agony, Fleur began to struggle even more urgently, and suddenly found herself released. Leaning back she slowly drew her hand across her lips, her eyes huge and distressed as she stared speechlessly at him.
'I'll go and check another patient, then I'll be back to see this one, Staff Nurse Tremaine,' he said in a harsh voice, and turned abruptly to leave the kitchen.
Fleur breathed deeply, closed her eyes, but when the only result of that was to renew the sensations she had just experienced, she hurriedly opened them again. Shatteringly aware of the tremendous struggle it had been not to let him see how much she had wanted to forget everything and melt into his embrace, she stared unheedingly at the two untouched cups and breathed the lingering elusive fragrance of after shave mingled with brandy snaps and coffee.
*
Chapter 5
Somehow Fleur got through the rest of her duty, but later could recall only a few blurred impressions.
Russell had returned, hollow-eyed, unspeaking, and visited his patient briefly. He reappeared at frequent intervals, checking on her progress, and when he spoke to Fleur to order an increase in the amount of pethedine to be administered, he did so in a cold, even tone, not looking at her.
The patient was drowsy, but after a few hours all the indications were that she would
recover without any additional problems, and Fleur, having settled her for what remained of the night, went mechanically about her other duties until able to escape, with immense relief, when she handed over to Sister.
She lay for a long time in the bath to try and relax, but although it was deep and hot she shivered at the memory of that shattering, devastating embrace.
'He's a fiend!' she said later to Anne, as they ate supper from trays in the sitting room. She had not described the kiss or her own shameful reactions, but when Anne had returned home after her own day at the hospital and discovered her, pale and with a raging headache, Fleur had to say something.
'I wonder if Rowena knows about his wandering eye?' Anne speculated. 'It's too much, to get engaged to one girl and then start harassing another for dates! Though Rowena is rather cold – I've spoken to her several times about patients and she doesn't seem interested. It's a temporary part time job here while Mr Havelock's secretary is on maternity leave. She's got a share in a beauty salon or something. That's far more her line.'
'I don't want to leave Chad's,' Fleur said slowly, 'but I can't endure this much longer. First he spreads that story, then believes that stupid nick-name, and thinks he can treat me as contemptuously as he likes.'
'You mustn't think of leaving,' Anne said firmly. 'We'll stop him even if we have to complain to Rowena's father.'
'We can't for a couple of months,' Fleur said. 'Besides, I don't like involving other people, it's my problem.'
'We could threaten to, though,' Anne said musingly. 'An official complaint of unprofessional conduct wouldn't look very good on Mr Romeo Delaney's record, and might damage his prospects in the same way as he's trying to damage yours!'
'He either wouldn't care, or his word would be believed against mine,' Fleur said dejectedly.
'Still, it's worth a try,' Anne urged. 'Next time he tries to kiss you, tell him you'll make a complaint.'
Hospital Heartbreaker Page 4
