Winning the Surgeon's Heart

by Annie Claydon

  ‘That’s okay, Mum. I can go to bed on my own.’ Sam sounded as if he had this all worked out. He was testing out his own independence, still needing her but wanting to do things on his own as well.

  ‘Well, I can’t. I want to speak to you before I go to sleep.’

  ‘All right, then. I’ll be here.’ Sam wriggled out of her arms, and ran over to where Matt was putting her bags into the car. ‘Bye, Matt.’

  Matt straightened up. ‘Bye, Sam. Got your victory dance ready for your mum when she gets back?’

  The vision of a completely different victory dance floated into Hannah’s mind, and she told herself for the hundredth time that it was okay. She and Matt had an understanding.

  ‘Yes.’ Sam thought for a moment, obviously bothered by something. ‘What happens if you don’t win?’

  Matt squatted down on his heels. ‘We don’t need to win, Sam. We just need to do our best. You think your mum will do her best?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sam pointed towards the bags in the boot. ‘She’s taking all her clothes with her.’

  ‘Then I’d say she deserves a victory dance when she gets back.’ Matt waited while Sam considered the matter. There would be no rushing him now, he always made time to listen to Sam.

  ‘Yes.’ Sam leaned towards Matt, covering his mouth with his hand as he whispered something in his ear. Matt laughed and gave him a nod.

  ‘I think so too.’

  There was a bit of rearranging, and squashing of corners, and finally the boot closed with all their luggage inside. Sam and her mother stood in the driveway waving, and when Matt flashed all of the car’s lights in response, Sam hallooed. Hannah craned around in her seat, watching until she couldn’t see her son any more.

  ‘First time you’ve been away from him for so long?’

  ‘Yes. I know he’ll be fine, but I can’t help missing him already.’ Hannah settled back into her seat, staring at the road ahead. ‘What did he say to you?’

  Matt chuckled. ‘He told me that he thinks the victory dance makes you happy.’

  Hannah couldn’t help smiling, and wanting to hug her little boy. ‘He sees more than I think he does sometimes.’

  ‘Kids do.’ Matt quirked the corners of his mouth down. ‘But you’re a great mother, Hannah. He sees good things.’

  ‘I hope so.’ The better she knew Matt, the more it felt that at some time he’d been made to feel that the world wasn’t a good place at all. That he’d had to build his own confidence and sense of security, rather than inheriting it, and that he was always afraid of it slipping away.

  But they were Matt’s secrets. He had his reasons for keeping them, and he’d told her what she needed to know. She should respect that.

  And there was a road ahead. Beckoning them both into something that was both exciting and terrifyingly unknown.

  * * *

  Matt knew this hotel. When his mother had left his father, she’d fled to London. Afraid of staying with any of her family here, in case his father should discover them, they’d stayed here for two weeks. Then moved on to another hotel and then another, until his mother could find a more permanent place to live. Permanent had turned out to be six months.

  But this place was special. His mother had explained carefully that they’d needed to leave, but Matt hadn’t needed any explanations. His arm had still been in a sling from what his father had done to him, and he knew full well that they were fleeing from fear and pain, and that this was the start of a new life. While his mother had been engaged in meetings with solicitors and those members of her family that she felt she could trust enough to share the secret of their whereabouts, he’d explored every inch of this new world.

  He drove past the unassuming entrance, and took a sharp right into the garage, below the building. They unloaded their bags from the car, and took the lift up to the lobby, where a porter immediately stepped forward to take their luggage, seeming almost offended that they’d dared to bring it this far themselves.

  It was quiet here. No shouting, no screaming. It felt just the way it had then, like an oasis of calm in the busy heart of the city.

  ‘Hannah... Matt...’ A young woman that he’d seen before amongst the TV crew stepped forward. ‘You made it. How was your journey?’

  She made it sound as if they’d braved hell and high water to get here. This time it had only been fifty miles of motorway and a few traffic lights.

  ‘Good. Thank you.’ Hannah smiled at her. ‘We’re looking forward to the weekend.’

  Matt felt her elbow in his ribs, and realised that he should be a part of this conversation. ‘Yes. Looking forward to it.’

  They were whisked over to the reception desk to sign the register, and then ushered upstairs. The top-floor suite comprised two bedrooms, on either side of a comfortable sitting room.

  ‘We’ve booked the whole place out for the weekend, and we have full use of all of the facilities, so make yourselves at home. This suite is your bolthole...’ The woman smiled at her own joke and Matt allowed himself a grim smile. The idea of the hotel as a bolthole was more appropriate than she knew.

  ‘There are no cameras here, we’ve set up a few rooms downstairs with static mounted cameras, and of course the outside broadcast team may be following you at times. But we’ll try to keep that as unobtrusive as possible. Dinner’s at six, and then there’s a meeting, where we’ll outline your challenge for the weekend.’ The woman smiled apologetically. ‘I’m going to need your phones.’

  Matt took his from his pocket, handing it over. ‘Any last-minute texts, Hannah?’

  ‘Oh. Yes, of course.’ She’d been looking around at her new surroundings, and had momentarily forgotten that she’d promised to text her mother when they arrived. ‘I just have one more to send.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  The woman smiled, waiting as Hannah typed furiously. She obviously had a little more to say than just a quick notification of their arrival and Matt reckoned that there would be hugs and kisses for Sam in there somewhere. Finally she gave up her phone, her momentary grimace showing that this might just be the hardest thing she did this weekend.

  Their luggage arrived, and was placed in their rooms. And then they were alone. Standing on opposite edges of the large rug that filled the space between the two comfortable sofas.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Hannah looked at her watch. ‘We have two whole hours...’

  ‘Unpack?’ Matt shrugged. ‘Relax.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Do you feel as if you could relax? And it’ll only take ten minutes to unpack...’

  Gold medal for unpacking, then. Hannah had brought four bags with her, and ten minutes sounded like a record-breaking sprint.

  ‘So...let’s unpack first. And then decide on a relaxation strategy.’

  Hannah was as good as her word. It was nine and a half minutes from when he closed his bedroom door to hearing her knock.

  ‘Aren’t you done yet?’ Hannah’s voice drifted through from the sitting room.

  ‘Uh...nearly.’ Matt decided to work out the intricacies of the shirt press later, and stuffed everything that was left in his case into the wardrobe. That would have to do for the time being.

  Hannah was bright-eyed and restless. Staying in their suite would be like trying to contain an inquisitive tiger, and he suggested they take a walk around the hotel. They explored the ground floor, finding that the lobby was full now of new arrivals, and slipping away to peer into the dining room and bar, and check out the conference room at the back of the building.

  ‘The pool’s that way. And a steam room!’ Hannah had caught sight of a sign that pointed towards the staircase that led down to the basement. ‘I brought my swimming suit.’

  Matt had too, reckoning that a few early morning laps might prepare him for the days ahead. He followed Hannah downstairs.

  ‘Oh,
and a gym.’ Hannah peered through the glass doors and turned away. ‘What a shame. It looks great, but I doubt we’ll have enough energy to spare for it.’

  A young man in sweatpants and a polo shirt, emblazoned with the name of the hotel, approached them. Hannah smiled, asking him to show them the pool, and he led the way.

  ‘This is gorgeous!’ The long narrow pool shimmered under green and blue lights, with Roman-style columns supporting wide beams that ran across the ceiling. The theme continued along the far wall, which was decorated with a mosaic that ran the full length of the pool, and depicted scenes of nymphs, dressed in classical costumes.

  ‘The Pamper Room is open all day, and you can make an appointment for a full session...’ The man broke off as Hannah waved her hand dismissively.

  ‘No pampering. But you have a steam room?’

  They were shown the steam room, which was tiled in blue and green to match the pool, and big enough to accommodate eight or ten people. Hannah turned to Matt.

  ‘What do you think?’

  He thought...that there were many good reasons why he shouldn’t spend time with Hannah clad only in a towel. But they had boundaries now. Ground rules. Before he could change his mind again, Matt nodded.

  ‘Yeah. It would be good to relax.’

  By the time he left the small dressing room, anchoring the thick white towel securely around his waist, Matt was having second thoughts about this. But leaving Hannah to sit alone, while he made an escape back to his bedroom, was unthinkable. He opened the door of the steam room, finding that she was already there, swathed in a similar towel to his.

  He sat down on the tiled bench, opposite hers, leaving plenty of space between them. Keeping his gaze on the floor seemed like a good option, although he could still see her feet, which were already a little pink, presumably along with the rest of her. Matt swallowed down the lump in his throat.

  Steam rose between them, and he felt beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead. He should break the silence, but couldn’t for the life of him think of anything to say. Then Hannah started to tap her foot...

  ‘All right, I’m going to look. Only you have to look too.’

  That was one way of breaking the ice. Suddenly this didn’t seem so hard after all.

  ‘Okay. Do you want to go first?’

  ‘No. I think we should do it together.’

  Sweat trickled down his spine. He looked up at her, and found that she was unashamedly looking him up and down. Relief washed over him as he realised that Hannah liked what she saw.

  He liked what he saw, too. The curve of her shoulders, and her pale skin, flushed with the heat. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, but a few strands had escaped and were sticking to her brow. The place where her towel was tucked over itself, between her breasts, was endlessly fascinating.

  And this was okay. They’d given each other permission, and he felt no embarrassment. Even the dark scar on the back of his shoulder didn’t bother him. Matt was always conscious of it, although few people ever asked about it and those who did accepted his excuses without question. Hannah couldn’t see it from where she was sitting, and it suddenly seemed too unimportant to waste any more time on.

  ‘That’s got that over with.’ He grinned at her and she grinned back. Hannah’s chuckle was infectious, and laughing together drove away the last remnants of awkwardness.

  ‘Could I just say—’

  ‘No, you couldn’t just say anything.’ Matt saw the mischief dancing in her eyes and decided he probably didn’t want to hear it.

  ‘All right.’ She mouthed the words instead. Nice shoulders.

  Okay, so he’d been wrong. He did want to hear it.

  Fabulous knees, he mouthed back at her, and she laughed.

  Hannah leaned back, closing her eyes. Matt took one last look at her, and did the same, feeling the cool of the tiles against his skin. The image of her smile stayed with him, curling through his thoughts like the subtle scent of pleasure.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MATT HAD BEEN congratulating himself on not only surviving the steam room but enjoying the chance to relax and laugh a little with Hannah. But when she appeared from her room, dressed for dinner, he found the juxtaposition of two separate images was far more arousing than he’d bargained for.

  She wore a slim patterned skirt, with high heels and a wraparound blouse. Hannah looked both elegant and seductive, and when the image jostled in his head with that of one tiny bead of sweat running past the curve of her neck, and down towards her breasts, it was almost unbearably erotic.

  This had to stop. It would, as soon as they got started on the challenge. It was just the effect of having too much time on his hands.

  They made their way downstairs to the dining room, chatting awkwardly in the lift with two of the other contestants. Dinner was a matter of mostly surveying the room and picking at their food in between times.

  ‘They look...ready for anything.’ Hannah nodded towards a table where two men were laughing loudly together.

  Matt shook his head. ‘Too confident, I reckon.’

  ‘What about them, then?’

  He followed her gaze towards two women, who were talking intently, oblivious of everything that was going on around them. Matt could see the tension in their movements.

  ‘Too nervous.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘So what are we, then?’

  He leaned towards her. ‘We’re the dream team. Flash and Robin.’

  That made her laugh. Maybe Flash and Robin could achieve what Matt felt unequal to at the moment and confine their intimacy to that of friends and teammates.

  They were shepherded into a large sitting room, and the director of the project stood up. The silence was so sudden and complete that a pin dropping would have made everyone jump. Matt reckoned that you’d even hear the swish of it on its way down.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome, and I hope you’ve all made yourselves comfortable here. We’d like to thank the Elsynge Hotel for allowing us to set up shop here for the weekend.’ He nodded towards a man wearing a blue jacket with the logo of the hotel on the breast pocket, who returned a benign smile, gauged to imply that nothing was too much trouble.

  ‘You’ll be wondering what your task is for the weekend. It’s very simple. You all know that the winners will be taking back a cheque for their hospital. We want you to produce a presentation of how that money might be spent, by eight o’clock on Sunday evening.’

  There was a hum of whispered conversation, and one of the nervous women raised her hand. ‘What kind of presentation are you looking for?’

  The director smiled. ‘That’s up to you to decide. Show us what you think we need to see.’

  The two confident men were talking animatedly. Hannah turned to him, frowning. ‘How are we going to do that? It’s up to the hospital board to say how the money’s spent.’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s a good question, you should ask.’

  She raised her hand hesitantly, and Matt jolted her elbow, pushing it up so that she caught the director’s eye.

  ‘I’ve got a good idea of how I’d like to see the money spent, but it’s not my decision. The board of our hospital would be in charge of that.’ A hum of agreement went around the room. Matt supposed that all of the other contestants were in much the same position.

  ‘We understand that the final decision belongs to the spending committees of your various hospitals, but this is your chance to influence that. You’ll be submitting your presentations on Sunday evening, and on Monday you’ll have a chance to talk to the judges. We’ve invited representatives from each of your hospitals to attend, and see your ideas. This is your chance to speak directly to them, as well as us.’

  Hannah flashed a look at Matt. This was real. And it was a responsibility that neither of them had expected.

  O
ne of the over-confident guys put up his hand, and stood to ask his question, so that everyone could see him. ‘Can we leave the hotel if we want?’

  ‘Yes, you can go anywhere at any time. The only thing we ask of you is that you sign yourselves out, and take along the production assistant who’ll be assigned to you. There may also be a camera crew, but they won’t accompany you anywhere without specific permission, we don’t want to cramp your style. The one thing we need from you is that you don’t use your time away from the hotel to contact anyone other than the specific person you’re going to see. This is a project that you have to complete alone.’

  There were more questions, but Hannah seemed not to hear them, sitting deep in thought. As soon as the meeting broke up, she wound her way through the groups of people still talking in the conference room, and Matt followed her as she hurried back to their suite.

  * * *

  Hannah felt sick. She’d determined to win the money, and had been happy to leave it to others to decide how it was best spent. But now there were a hundred different areas of need, all jostling for position in her head. It was an impossible decision.

  ‘This is above my pay grade, Matt.’ She flopped down onto the sofa.

  ‘Yeah. Mine too.’ He sat down, his brow furrowed.

  ‘Maybe we should make a list of all the various departments. Then we could pinpoint their specific areas of need...’ Hannah shook her head. That was a terrible idea. ‘That alone would take us all weekend. We don’t have the time.’

  ‘And I’m not sure it’ll get us any further—every department needs something. How would we choose?’

  ‘Pick names from a hat?’ She sighed. ‘I just can’t think of any one thing that’s more important than everything else...’