She was probably right, but he’d grown so accustomed to working through the pain that he just hadn’t realised how bad it was going to get until he had already been in trouble.
He swore viciously under his breath when he finally admitted that he wasn’t going to enjoy what he was going to have to do in the morning, glad that since he was using his own language there was almost no likelihood that anyone would be able to understand him.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘YOU’RE from Penhally, aren’t you?’ asked Nance Penwarden, one of the newer members of staff recruited to the unit who almost seemed to have been waiting for her to step inside the door the next morning.
She was an older woman, who had returned to nursing as a way of supporting herself and her children after the breakdown of her marriage.
‘I grew up there, but I’ve only just returned after going away to train,’ Emily confirmed. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Oh, it’s just that we had one of the Penhally GPs in this morning—Dr Tremayne? He called in to see one of his patients who had to come in to our unit after emergency surgery as a result of an accident on the family farm—his pelvis was fractured and had to be stabilised,’ she added briefly, before hurrying on. ‘Dr Tremayne stayed with the parents for a while, explaining everything and calming them down, then he asked me to show him around the unit and he ended up spending some time talking to some of our older children.’
Her smile was slightly embarrassed and Emily suddenly wondered if one of the reasons why she’d returned to such a demanding profession had been the possibility of looking for a replacement for her husband.
‘He was really good with them, really patient,’ she continued. ‘He spent ages answering questions and…well, you wouldn’t happen to know if he’s married, would you?’ she asked in a sudden rush, and Emily’s suspicion was largely confirmed.
‘He was married and has several children…three, I think, and all grown up…but I’m almost certain that he’s a widower now.’ Emily had heard a rumour going around Penhally about some sort of a connection between Nick Tremayne and Kate Althorp, but she wasn’t one to spread gossip. Neither did she really have time for this conversation when there were patients to see, and especially with Zayed stalking towards her with a steely expression on his face.
‘Dr Livingston, would you come into my office, please,’ Zayed said, with a rough edge to his voice that had Emily wondering whether he’d had as little sleep as she had, last night.
‘Certainly, Mr Khalil,’ she replied formally and stepped away from the side of Abir’s cot, pausing only to give Meera a reassuring smile as she left the room.
In his long-legged wake she only had time to throw a glance at the pile of files with which she’d been hoping to familiarise herself this morning. With the outpatients and referral clinics yesterday, to say nothing of Abir’s surgery, she hadn’t really had much time to take in the specifics of each of the unit’s little charges.
That was why she’d driven in to St Piran’s a couple of hours before her shift was due to start, but she still hadn’t arrived before the man who had dominated almost every one of her thoughts for the last twenty-four hours.
No, actually it had been far longer than that, she realised as she followed him along the brightly decorated corridor towards his office. She hadn’t recognised it at the time, but it had been in his persona as the intensely focused man on the beach that he’d first set her hormones humming.
That had been a first for her.
She’d never believed that she was so shallow that she would allow a muscular body or a handsome face to dictate her attraction to a man. But Zayed had that, and more—a keen intellect, a caring heart and a sense of responsibility that…
Oh, who was she trying to kid? It hadn’t been his intellect that she’d been dreaming about so heatedly. It had been the feel of his skin under her hands, the way the swells and curves of his hard-won muscles had filled her palms and the subtle smell of musk that had lingered even after she’d made her way to Beabea’s cottage.
‘Take a seat, please,’ he demanded quietly, dragging her instantly away from her mental images of the bronzed figure silhouetted against the sunset to the professional man in front of her.
Not that it completely drove the thoughts away. How could it when she could see the same lean, powerful body, albeit this time clothed in pale coffee-coloured trousers and a dark bronze shirt that brought out unexpected gleams of gold in those beautiful dark eyes?
His face was every bit as handsome as the first time she’d seen it, but after watching it at intervals for the last twenty-four hours she felt as if she was actually getting to read some of the emotions that were going on behind the ‘official’ look he seemed to hide behind sometimes.
There was something about his expression this morning that she hadn’t seen before…an uneasiness that sent warning prickles up the back of her neck, especially when he couldn’t seem to decide whether to perch one hip on the corner of his desk or retreat to the plush-looking chair behind it.
It couldn’t be that something had gone wrong with Abir’s recovery. Before she’d set off for the hospital that morning she’d spoken to the anaesthetist who’d been first on call last night, as well as the nurse who’d been specialling him. Both had been very pleased with the way his little body had coped with the trauma of such major surgery, in spite of the fact that he was still very heavily sedated.
And it had only been moments ago that she’d been standing beside his high-tech cot, surrounded by the clicks and bleeps of all the monitors, keen to reread his notes and hold Meera Hanani’s hand reassuringly, even while she knew that nothing less than holding her baby son in her arms, whole and healthy, was ever going to be reassurance enough.
As for any problems with the other patients she’d seen yesterday, she hadn’t had time to get to the pile of case notes so she had no idea what would have put such a buttoned-down expression on his ‘eminent consultant’ face.
So, was it something she’d done…or failed to do?
For goodness’ sake! Guessing just wasn’t her way, she thought impatiently.
‘Is there a problem?’ she demanded forthrightly, just as the possibility that he was trying to find the words to give her the sack exploded into her brain.
‘I am afraid…There is something…’
He made two false starts and she nearly growled with anxiety, suddenly realising just how much she did not want to lose this job.
It wasn’t just that she needed to stay close to her grandmother, although that was essential to her plans for the foreseeable future. No, it was the blinding revelation that, much as she had been enjoying the work she’d been doing in Mr Breyley’s unit, there was something so much more in what she’d seen and done yesterday.
And it wasn’t just that her new boss was the most good-looking, sexiest…
Enough! she chided herself fiercely, knowing those sorts of thoughts were totally inappropriate, especially with her job on the line.
‘I am sorry,’ he said gruffly, and her worst fears were confirmed.
‘Why?’ she gulped, feeling too sick to be able to voice all the questions she wanted to ask.
Why did he want to sack her?
Why wasn’t he willing to give her a second chance?
Why couldn’t he…?
‘I must apologise because I was unnecessarily rude and abrupt last night, and I completely forgot my manners. I totally forgot to thank you for your help.’
Emily was left floundering like a fish out of water, almost certain that her mouth was gaping like a fish’s, too.
‘You’re not sacking me?’ She hardly dared to believe it. She’d been so sure that…
‘Sacking you? What on earth for?’ he demanded, but she noticed that he hadn’t quite been able to bring himself to meet her eyes.
So he had considered it, she realised with a sudden heaviness inside her and a panicked feeling as if she’d only just realised how close her
feet were to the edge of an unstable cliff.
Who would have thought that it would matter this much to her that she might never get to work with him again?
Still, he’d obviously changed his mind, the more optimistic side of her nature pointed out firmly. And that meant that she had more time to show him how good a doctor she could be, more time to make herself indispensable to him.
‘You know as well as I do that you proved yourself more than competent in Theatre yesterday,’ he continued, that deep, slightly husky voice sounding almost musical with the liquid syllables borrowed from his own tongue. And as for the unexpected praise…she could already feel a wash of heat sweeping up her throat and into her face.
‘As for your help on the beach,’ he continued, and it was his turn to sound almost embarrassed this time, ‘I am not absolutely sure what you did, but I was able to walk all the way to the car park near the lifeboat station without having to stop, and the improvement seems to have held this morning, too. So I really do owe you my gratitude.’
‘I’m glad you’re feeling easier, and you’re welcome,’ she said, tempted to allow a broad grin to creep from ear to ear. Utter relief took the brakes off her tongue. ‘So, are we going into Theatre again today? Will you be letting me assist again?’
‘Have I created a monster?’ he murmured, but she could see from the gleam in his eyes that he approved of her enthusiasm. ‘We will be welcoming some new patients this afternoon. They flew into Heathrow airport from Xandar overnight and will be transferring by plane down to St Mawgan where they will be met by a translator and medical staff for the last part of the journey.’
‘Let me guess who will be in charge of documenting their admission,’ Emily grumbled, screwing her nose up at the sheer volume of paperwork that was always involved.
‘You will also be in charge of leading the case conference session when all the different disciplines get their heads together,’ he announced quietly, taking her breath away completely.
‘This is a test isn’t it?’ she said nervously, guessing that at the very least there would probably be a top-flight surgeon from the plastics department as well as the anaesthetist at that meeting.
‘Why not look at it as more of a challenge?’ he suggested. ‘You will have three patients with various problems and you will need to pull together their case histories, such as they are, and put together an up-to-date picture of their problems, their needs and at least one possible course of treatment.’
‘Will that include blood work and X-rays?’ She barely glanced up from the rapid notes she was taking, her heart already pumping at the task ahead.
‘Of course. Everything we will need to make an informed decision about the best way to proceed. And in the meantime,’ he added, ‘do not forget to keep an eye on Abir. I am not expecting any problems, but Meera is delighted that you have been in to visit him. I am certain she appreciates the fact that you are a woman. Xandar is currently ruled by some very traditional men who continue to make it very difficult for women to feel comfortable in the company of men who are not their husbands or close family members.’
‘She must be feeling very isolated over here,’ Emily said, her heart going out to the young woman all over again. It must be so hard for her to be going through this while she was so far away from the support of her friends and family. ‘That must make the whole situation even more fraught for her if she doesn’t like to ask questions for fear of offending.’
‘Exactly so,’ he said quietly, ‘and the language barrier just makes things even more difficult.’
‘I shall have to learn some of your language,’ Emily announced with a sudden flash of inspiration. ‘Even if I can only manage a few words of greeting, it would be better than nothing. Would you teach me?’
He seemed almost as startled as she was to hear the request coming out of her mouth, but before she could hastily retract it, he was answering.
‘Of course, if you are really interested in learning. But it is not one of the easiest languages,’ he warned.
‘So, you don’t think I’ll be fluent by the end of my time on the unit?’ she teased as a bubble of excitement grew inside her. The idea of learning his language had been a spur-of-the-moment idea but the more she thought about it, the more she liked it, not least because it would mean she would have an excuse to spend more time in his company.
And how stupid was that? she berated herself once she was out of his presence. Ever since she’d first seen him on the beach there had been something about the man that had drawn her like a magnet. And now that she was working with him, the attraction seemed to be growing stronger so that all she could think about in his presence was the next time she would be with him. And as for her dreams last night, after the interlude on the darkening beach when she’d come to know the textures and warmth of his back as intimately as her own, well, they’d been enough to have her waking up that morning needing a cold shower to cool off.
‘Dr Livingston, where is Mr Khalil? I must see him immediately,’ announced an imperious voice that dragged her away from her vivid memories with a snap.
Of course it was Nasima Osman, his beautiful secretary, as immaculately dressed as ever and with such perfect hair and make-up that it must take her hours to get ready for work each day.
‘He’s just gone into the little conference room to talk with the parents of one of the patients, but he left strict instructions that he didn’t want to be disturbed,’ Emily told her with a glance towards the door, and was horrified when the arrogant young woman immediately headed towards it.
‘Don’t!’ Emily cautioned sharply, but Nasima whirled on one slender heel to face her with an expression that reminded Emily of a spitting cat.
‘His “do not disturb” only refers to you,’ she announced haughtily. ‘I am always welcome,’ and she turned back to open the forbidden door with a flourish.
‘Out! Now!’ Zayed snapped, his dark eyes angry as they met Emily’s across the intervening yards. ‘I told you I was not to be disturbed.’
‘But, Zayed,’ the young woman simpered. ‘I have brought you a message that—’
‘It can wait,’ he growled, his impatience only too clear, as was the fact that he was blaming Emily for the interruption. ‘Or give it to Emily. But shut that door now.’
The young woman pulled the door shut with a pout and a deliberately loud bang, then started to flounce her way out of the unit.
‘What about the message?’ Emily reminded her.
‘I would not give any message to you,’ Nasima snapped rudely. ‘I will give it only to Zayed when he comes to me.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Emily murmured to the slender departing back, but she may as well have saved her breath. Anyway, the young woman’s pettiness didn’t matter when measured against the fact that she’d deliberately interrupted Zayed’s meeting.
Emily knew just how important the conversation going on in that room was. Those poor parents were being faced with a terrible choice and the last thing they needed was to be disturbed.
Repeatedly she replayed the expression of annoyance on Zayed’s face and wondered if she should have done more, if there had been any way she could have stopped his secretary from barging in like that.
‘Zayed…Ah, Mr Khalil,’ she corrected herself hurriedly when he finally emerged from the interview room, shocked to discover that she’d worked for Mr Breyley for almost a month without ever wondering whether she could call him by his first name, whereas, in her head, she was already calling this man Zayed after a single day.
‘In a minute, please,’ he said stiffly as he strode straight past her to his office and closed the door.
Her heart sank. He obviously thought it was her fault that he’d been interrupted, and if she were to say anything, it would look as if she was trying to shift the blame.
Still, it was important that she tried to set the record straight. She didn’t want him to think that she would flagrantly flout a direct request, so she went to s
tand outside his door, determined to catch him before he was called elsewhere.
She could hear the low rumble of his voice behind the door and even though she wasn’t deliberately listening to what he was saying, she quickly realised that there was no point even in trying. As his voice took on a louder, angrier note she could tell that he was speaking in his own language and she wouldn’t have understood a word.
Suddenly the door was snatched open and his secretary emerged looking much less than her perfect self, with her heavy eye make-up smudged and her flawless olive-toned skin blotchy with a mixture of tears and temper.
‘You!’ she snarled when she saw Emily waiting there, then let loose with what was obviously a flood of invective.
‘Enough! Go!’ Zayed ordered icily, his expression looking as if had been carved from Cornish granite.
Emily’s heart stuttered at the thought of having that much anger directed at her, but stood her ground. She knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, but…
‘Emily.’ The edge to his voice made all her nerves jangle while she waited for the verdict but, instead of inviting her into his office to detail his displeasure, she actually saw the slightest lifting of his ire. ‘There has been a mix-up in the arrangements, so the two of us will have to go to St Mawgan to meet the plane. We will need to leave in half an hour. In the meantime, would you contact the human resources department and ask them to find me a half-competent secretary? I have fired my previous one for misconduct…oh, and for being a totally useless secretary!’
Her head was whirling as he turned and disappeared into his office again, but she had no time to contemplate the recent turn of events.
Her hand hovered over the phone at the reception desk but she wasn’t certain who to contact. She’d only been at St Piran’s for a month so had no idea how to go about requesting staff.
‘Problem?’ asked Jenna Stanbury as she consulted the long printed list of numbers for the various hospital departments.
Caroline Anderson, Josie Metcalfe, Maggie Kingsley, Margaret McDonagh Page 21
