by Sue MacKay
With the blood-test kit in hand, she returned to her patient. ‘Jonathon, let’s get this done. Your surgeon will be here to see you shortly.’
‘You don’t muck around, do you?’ His smile was tight with pain but there was also relief in his voice.
‘I try not to.’ She pushed up the sleeve of the gown and put the tourniquet in place before wiping an area above his vein with antiseptic fluid. ‘One sharp scratch.’ The needle slid in, and the tube began filling. She decided to take a tube to be spun for serum as well in case the surgeon asked for biochemistry tests. It would save time and discomfort for Jonathon if she didn’t have to come back for another sample. ‘There, done.’ Snapping off the tourniquet, she withdrew the syringe and began labelling the tubes.
‘Didn’t feel a thing.’
Probably because he was focused on the pain from his abdomen. He looked worse than he had minutes ago. If his appendix was playing up then she’d bet her lunch it was now in an advanced state and would need urgent surgery. Slipping the tubes into a plastic bag, she stood at the end of the bed and said, ‘I’ll get this taken to the lab, then I’ll be back.’ Hopefully by then the surgeon would be here, and she could relax.
The door to the room darkened. ‘Good morning, Jonathon. I hear you’re having more pain than you should be.’
The bag containing the blood sample slid from her fingers onto the bed. The blood in her body dived south, leaving her head dizzy. Her mouth dried. Her stomach roiled. Noah?
Jonathon looked beyond her. ‘Mr Kennedy—am I glad to see you. Though Stacey’s been very helpful, hasn’t doubted that I’m telling the truth about increased pain.’
Mr Kennedy. Phew. She could relax, put her head back on straight, make her stomach behave. It wasn’t Noah. Why would he be Noah? The same sensations that had excited her that night three years ago when she had been with him were winding through her, tightening her in places, softening her in others. What were the odds? For one, because he’d been at the hospital ball she’d presumed he worked in the medical world, yet she could’ve been wrong. And if she’d been right there were numerous hospitals in London, and a darned sight more out in the world. Looking online was an unsolvable nightmare, like asking where was the best place to go for ice cream. She hadn’t seen his friend at the ball at all so couldn’t track him down, and the hotel Noah had been staying at had refused to give out his name. No, it wasn’t Noah. Couldn’t be. Though she wanted to find him for Holly’s sake. And mine. She’d believed she’d be ready if the chance came up. Got that wrong. She was anything but ready.
With a deep breath, she turned around. ‘Hello, Mr...’
Noah stood before her. Looking as stunning as last time she’d seen him. More so. Her memories hadn’t lied. That good-looking face with the strong jawline and wide mouth was exactly as she recalled. His suit enhanced his broad shoulders and the wide chest that led down to slim hips and muscular thighs. Oh, man, could she remember those. On a deep breath, she looked up into familiar grey eyes. Yes. Deep grey like these ones. The only difference was the shock radiating out at her.
Gripping the bed end to keep from face-planting on the floor, she stared at Noah. Yes, Noah. No one else. The man who’d helped her get on with life by being exciting, and kind, and tender, and fun. The man who’d hung around in her head ever since, teasing her about the feelings she had for someone she’d known for less than a day. Warm feelings of longing that were making themselves known right now. He’d also been a part of what had unexpectedly thrown her into turmoil and given her the greatest gift ever. Holly. Her daughter. Their daughter.
Stacey’s knees buckled and her ribs hit the end of the bed. Fighting to stay upright, she held on tight and closed her eyes to focus. It couldn’t be him. But it was. Finally she’d found Noah. Ironic, because today she hadn’t been looking for him. Worse, he was as attractive as she remembered, which was odd, because she’d never thought she’d feel this way again after Angus had jilted her. He’d been the love of her life.
Yet Noah had excited her very differently, had her wondering if her love for Angus had been all she’d thought. Now, three years on, she’d accepted that her one-night fling with Noah was always going to have been more exciting than the man she’d known all her life. She’d tried to move on from Noah and that night. One night was a lot to hang hopes and dreams on, but impossible to forget with Holly a constant reminder.
Then there were those memories of respect and gentleness, of giving herself to him. Here he was, standing a metre away, and she knew she’d been wrong to think she could forget him. He was special. He had pressed all her buttons. Staring at him now, her throat dried even as her knees started tightening to keep her upright. ‘Noah,’ she squeaked.
He gasped, ‘Anastasia?’
* * *
Strike me down. Noah stared at the apparition at the end of his patient’s bed. After all this time the woman who’d given him one night to remember, to never forget, was standing in front of him, looking as stunned as he felt. ‘Anastasia? As in Stacey Wainwright?’
Her nod was abrupt. ‘Yes. Noah, as in Mr Kennedy, surgeon, I presume.’ There was the faintest twitch at one corner of her exquisite mouth.
A mouth he’d kissed deeply and longed for again and again over the years when he’d been so far away from London, at the bottom of the world. A mouth that had done wondrous things to his body. Then he surprised himself by chuckling. They’d talked like that the first and only time they’d been together, each on the same track as the other, like they were kindred souls. There was a thumping going on behind his ribs, as though he was happy to bump into Anastasia again. Which he was, but so happy he felt a new world was opening up before him?
He’d often wondered what had happened to the woman with an easy sense of fun and eyes that sparkled with merriment. The first woman he’d felt anything for since Christine, the ex who’d let him down big time.
He breathed deep. Yes, there it was. That citrus tang hung in the air between them. A scent he’d taken with him as he’d crawled out of bed the next morning and hurriedly prepared to get to Heathrow and eventually New Zealand in an attempt to get away from his father’s family and have time for himself. He’d joined his cousin from his mother’s side, shared an apartment and worked in the same hospital while getting a wealth of experience in general surgery.
Anastasia had gone with him in his head, often tempting him to return home and hunt her down. He hadn’t, because he was cautious about giving his heart to anyone again. Yet deep down he did want to find a woman to trust his heart with, to love unconditionally—if only he could let go of his hang-ups from the past.
He’d dated on and off, and no other woman had been a patch on this special lady he’d had so much genuine fun with three years ago. She’d raised hope he might be able to find the love he’d spent a lifetime looking for. She’d become an itch under his skin, a constant irritation. Now here she was, beautiful, and very real. ‘We meet again.’
Her eyes were wide, and those yellow and green flecks in the deep brown shade were shining. That thick, dark blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail falling down her back as straight as it had been when he’d swung her around on the dance floor. Her hair had been loose then, silk running between his fingers. His muscles tightened at the memory. And another of her mouth on his skin as she whispered hot, sweet nothings. Now, her voice was cooler, like she was fighting with this sudden reunion. ‘We do. And we’d better get on with why we’re here.’
His patient. On the phone she’d suggested Jonathon might have appendicitis, and he’d wondered if she was right. For once, he didn’t want to be here, looking into a patient’s details and making arrangements for whatever was required. No, he wanted to snatch Anastasia—to hell with Stacey—to him, wind his arms around her and hold on tight. He didn’t want her to go away. He’d longed to find her, and here she was.
Now what? Walk away wh
ile he could? Because something said it would get harder to do the longer he hung around, that if a deeper relationship with Anastasia failed he’d be more heartbroken than when Christine had done her number on him. Anastasia was special, but that didn’t mean she’d be good for him. Did he truly want to keep avoiding risking his heart or did he want that love he’d always longed for since his parents had died? Was he going to risk all to find out? How could he not? She’d be almost impossible to walk away from this time, and they’d only just met again.
‘Noah?’ She leaned close, watching him with a warning in her eyes.
Of course. Forget what he wanted. He was at work and Jonathon was waiting for him to gather his scattered brain cells and be of some use. But, hell, after all this time wondering about the woman he’d spent a beautiful night with, he’d bumped into her, and he just couldn’t let it go. Not even briefly. ‘Talk later over coffee,’ he told her, hauling back his shoulders and stepping up to the bed. ‘Jonathon, I hear you’re suffering more pain than when I saw you yesterday, and that your temperature has risen.’
‘Yes, I started feeling the pain around lunchtime yesterday but thought it was all to do with the operation. Only the pain kept increasing, despite the drugs I was given, and now it’s unbearable.’
‘I’ll take a look.’ Anastasia had already closed the curtains around them and disappeared just when he needed her as a nurse, and not a wonderful memory. Flicking the curtain aside, he headed for the door, only to pause as she came towards him.
‘I’ve sent a haematology specimen to the lab as ordered by Joel. I also took a biochemistry blood in case you required more tests.’
She was onto it. ‘I can’t argue with that.’ Relieved she hadn’t dashed away to put space between them and send in another nurse, he struggled to keep on the subject of Jonathon’s problem. ‘You think this is more than the original site becoming infected?’
Her eyes widened as she stared at him. Obviously not used to a doctor asking her opinion. ‘The pain Jonathon’s having is eight out of ten, and where he indicates it’s coming from isn’t where you operated.’
He had no doubt she had an idea what the problem was. ‘Let’s take a look.’ He turned back into the cramped space around the bed. ‘Jonathon, can you show me where this pain is.’
Anastasia helped their patient expose his abdomen, then she stood aside.
Noah tried not to breathe too deeply to avoid that scent that said Anastasia, and got on with what he was good at. As his fingers probed Jonathon’s abdomen he felt the man tense. ‘There? Or here?’
‘The second place. The other hurts but when you touch the second one, it’s like a knife going in.’
Which was what was probably going to happen soon. ‘I’ll wait to see what your white-cell count is but I suspect it’s going to be high.’
The man looked at him blankly, shaking his head. ‘Meaning?’
‘White cells fight infections and to do that they rapidly increase in number. Unfortunately, the result will be the same if there’s an infection where I removed your pancreas. But going with where the pain is, I believe...’ He paused and looked across to Anastasia. ‘I think you’ve got acute appendicitis, which means the appendix has to be removed.’
Her mouth twitched. But she remained silent.
Damn, how he remembered that twitch. It had wound him up so much, had him touching her again and again. He really knew so little about her, but it seemed he knew what mattered. He’d like to change that, add to his memories. True? Yes, damn it, it was.
‘More surgery?’ Jonathon’s shaky question broke the spell.
Concentrate on the patient. ‘Yes, Jonathon. I know you won’t be keen but there’s no choice. If we’re right—’ Anastasia’s eyebrows rose. ‘If we’re right, that appendix has to come out as soon as possible or you’ll become dangerously ill.’
‘This doesn’t have anything to do with the first operation, does it?’
Fortunately not. Noah shook his head. ‘The pancreas and appendix are two separate organs. This is a completely new problem, and bad timing. Or you could say good timing because we’re onto it, and you don’t have to wait for surgery.’
‘Whatever. You’re the boss.’ Jonathon shrank back into his pillow.
Anastasia quickly fixed his robe in place and tucked the bed cover over the worried man. ‘You’ll be fine. Mr Kennedy did a great job of that pancreas, so this next op will be just as good.’
How did she even begin to know that? A scar told an observer very little, except maybe he could be a tailor if he ever wanted to change careers. Looking at her, she smiled softly at him, and tenderness sneaked into Noah’s tense muscles at the thought she’d believe he was a capable surgeon even if until a few minutes ago she hadn’t even known what his specialty was.
He liked being accepted in a positive way without having to explain himself, and Stacey had just done that. His shoulders loosened some more. It didn’t happen often. In fact, he’d struggled most of his life since he was ten to be good enough at anything, especially where his uncle was concerned.
Apparently he had his mother’s genes, and those were wrong for the Kennedy family. His mother had enjoyed life immensely, had been a loving person who’d seen the best in everyone and not the bad. According to Uncle Robert, she’d led his father away from his role in life by being too outgoing and bringing all sorts of people into their circle, instead of toeing the line and behaving properly. When Robert had disapproved of Christine, it had been more of the same complaints, except for once he’d got it right about her being a greedy woman who’d wanted nothing more than Noah’s wealth.
Noah glanced at the nurse helping his patient. She had a similar zest for life to his mother. Being proper would definitely be anathema to her, if he’d read her correctly that night. He’d swear he had. ‘Can you let me know the moment those lab results come in? And get a CPR on the bio sample.’
‘Sure.’ A smile lit up her face. ‘Where will I find you?’
As in she didn’t want to lose him again? Not yet, she couldn’t. Not until they’d had a coffee together, at least. He laughed at that idea. Unbelievable, but sitting down with a coffee would be fine. Talking, catching up on the last three years—make that all the years because they knew so little about each other—held an allure that he had to follow up on. And therefore a reason not to spend time together away from this ward, and getting caught up in her loveliness. He downplayed the hidden message he thought might be in her question. ‘Call my hospital number. I’ll be waiting to hear from you,’ he said professionally, trying not to imagine kissing her again.
The smile slipped off that delightful mouth. ‘Right.’
He left the room without a backward glance because if he looked back, he’d stay talking when he had a surgical list to get through, one that had been increased with Jonathon Black now needing an appendectomy. Not a doubt. No ignoring that scent that was Anastasia either. Or the way his step was lighter than usual as he made his way down the ward to the lift. At least the citrus didn’t follow him. Though memories of a shapely figure, gentle hands, soft skin, incredibly sexy moves on the dance floor, and in that darkened hotel room did.
Anastasia, Stacey, worked here where he’d been contracted as a general surgeon at the same time as picking up a partnership in a private practice along the road. He’d found her, and could admit to certain feelings that he’d been trying to deny. Now that particular riddle was finally solved, he didn’t have a clue what to do next. Take a chance? Or back off? So typical in his world of relationships. After Christine he never intended getting caught up in another one—they hurt too much when they fell apart. Yet while his encounter with Anastasia had only involved hours it felt as though a lot more of him had got caught up with her. He was afraid to try for love again, even if Anastasia had left her mark on him. They had seemed to click the two times they’d been together, like they
just knew each other even when they didn’t. Not in an expansive way yet. He sighed.
The lift pinged and he stepped inside amongst other staff. Did he really intend staying single for the rest of his life? Not having a family to love and cherish like his parents had him until they’d been abruptly taken? He didn’t believe he was loveable. His relatives hadn’t come anywhere close when it came to loving him. They hadn’t loved him at all, and still didn’t.
Then there was Christine. He hoped Anastasia was the polar opposite. Not every woman was a money-hungry ice queen. Christine had fooled him into thinking otherwise simply because he’d been desperate to find a happy, loving environment like his life had started in. Not every woman was Christine. She came from a poor background and had a lifelong dream of marrying money.
But how did he know Anastasia wouldn’t be the same? She might be just as good at putting up a façade. Get a grip. At that dance she’d smiled wholeheartedly at him and made him feel warm and special. In the morning she’d turned down his offer of a taxi home. Then again, anyone with half a brain could’ve sounded genuine, especially to him after the greatest sex he’d had in a long time.
Ping. He made to step off, hesitated and looked at the floor indicator. Great. He’d gone up rather than down, and the lift had more floors to go before returning to the theatre level. Stepping back, he found a corner and leaned back against the cold wall.
It had been one night in paradise. No questions, no hang-ups, no expectations. He’d been himself, a rare event, resulting in a fantastic time. Since then he’d often wondered who the woman he’d made love to the night of the dance was... Where she worked...if she was a doctor or a nurse...did she work at London General—which, according to his friend when he asked, she didn’t—and did she ever think of him?
Now he had the answers to most of those questions, he needed to find out more. The way she’d already tipped him sideways worried the hell out of him. Temptation in a nurse’s uniform. If he ever found the love he’d been seeking for so long, would he always be waiting for the axe to fall?
