Читать книгу Seduced By The Sheikh Surgeon - Carol Marinelli - Страница 8

CHAPTER ONE

IT WASN’T BECAUSE of lack of opportunity for there had been plenty of them.

In fact, here was one now!

A late spring storm had come from nowhere and lit up the London sky.

Adele stood at the bus stop across the road from the Accident and Emergency department, where she had just finished working a late shift. The rain battered the shelter and she would probably be better off standing behind it. Her white dress, which was not designed to get wet, clung to her and had shrunk to mid-thigh and her shoulder-length blond hair was plastered to her head.

She wore no mascara so she was safe there—Adele wouldn’t be greeting Zahir with panda eyes.

It was ten at night and she could see the blinkers on his silver sports car as he drove out of the hospital, turned right and drove towards her.

Surely now? Adele thought, as she stepped out from the supposed shelter just to make sure that she could be seen.

Surely any decent human being who saw a colleague standing shivering and wet at a bus stop, caught in a sudden storm, would slow down and offer them a lift home.

And when he did Adele would smile and say, ‘Thank you,’ and get into the car. Zahir would see her clinging dress and wonder how the hell he had not noticed the junior nurse in that way before.

And she would forgive him for a year of rudely ignoring her. Finally alone, they would make conversation and as they pulled up at her flat...

Adele hadn’t quite worked out that part. She loathed her flat and flatmates and couldn’t really see Zahir in there.

Maybe he would suggest a drink back at his place, Adele thought as finally, finally, her moment came and the silver car slowed down.

She actually started to walk towards it, so certain was she that their moment had come.

But then he picked up speed and drove on.

No, his car didn’t splash her with water, but she felt the drenching of his repeated rejection, just as if it had.

He must have just slowed down to turn on his radio or something, Adele soon realised, for Zahir drove straight past her.

How could she fancy someone as unfeeling as him? she wondered.

It was a conundrum she regularly wrangled with.

She couldn’t console herself that he didn’t like women.

Zahir dated.

A lot.

On too many occasions Adele had sat at the nurses’ station or in the staffroom as he’d taken a call from whoever his latest perturbed girlfriend had been.

Perturbed because it was Saturday night and they were supposed to be out and Zahir was at work. Perturbed because it was Sunday afternoon and he had said several hours ago that he was only popping in to work.

Work was his priority. That much was clear.

During Adele’s last set of night shifts he had been called in when he hadn’t been rostered on. Wherever he had come from had required him to wear a tux. He had looked divine. For once he had been utterly clean shaven and his thick black hair had been slicked back. Adele had tried to stammer out the problem with the patient that she and Janet, the nurse unit manager, had been concerned about.

It had proved to be a hard ask.

‘He was seen here this afternoon and discharged with antibiotics,’ Adele said. ‘His mother’s still concerned and has brought him back tonight. The paediatrician has seen him again and explained it’s too soon for the antibiotics to take effect.’

‘What is your concern?’ Zahir asked.

His cologne was heavy yet it could not douse the testosterone and sexual energy that was almost a visible aura to Adele. His deep, gravelly voice asked pertinent questions about the patient. She loved his rich accent and each stroke of a vowel he delivered went straight to her thighs.

‘Adele,’ he asked again, ‘what is the main reason for your concern?’

‘The mother’s very worried,’ Adele said, and closed her eyes because mothers were always very worried. ‘And so am I.’

Zahir had gone in to examine the patient when a stunning woman had walked into the department. Her long brown hair and make-up were perfect despite the late hour. Dressed in silver, she had marched up to Janet and asked in a very bossy voice exactly how long Zahir would be.

‘Bella, I said to wait in the car.’ Zahir’s curt response had made the beauty jump. Clearly she only spoke like this out of his earshot.

Janet smothered a smile as Bella stalked off. ‘Gone by morning,’ she said to Adele.

Zahir had asked that Janet send in Helene to assist him.

More experience was required.

Adele had none.

Well, not with men but it seriously irked her that even after a year of working in Accident and Emergency he seemed to treat her as if she had just started.

And she had been right to be worried about the child.

Zahir performed a lumbar puncture and viral meningitis was later confirmed. The little boy was admitted and ended up staying in hospital for five days.

Not that Zahir told her.

There was never any follow-up for Adele.

And yet, for all his faults in the communication department, Zahir was the highlight of her working day.

Of all her days.

Well, no more, she decided as his car glided past.

He was arrogant and dismissive and it had been outright mean of him not to stop and offer her a lift—she refused to fancy him any longer.

Adele’s world was small, too small, she knew that and was determined to do something about it.

The bus finally arrived.

Actually, two of them did. The one that was late and the one that was due.

Spoiled for choice, Adele thought as she climbed onto the emptier one and said hello to the driver.

There were some of the regulars on board and there were a few others.

Adele was a regular and knew she could zone out for the next half-hour. She rested her head against the window as the bus hissed and jolted its way through the rain, and as it did so she went to her favourite place in the world.

Zahir.

Her conundrum.

She had no choice in her attraction toward him, she had long since decided. She had fought it, tried to deny it, tried to do something about it and she had also tried to ignore it.

Yet it persisted.

It simply existed and she had to somehow learn to live alongside it.

Maybe it was because he was completely unobtainable, she considered as someone started to sing at the back of the bus.

Yes, she needed to get out more and she was starting to do so. On Friday night she had a first date with Paul—a paramedic who had made his interest in her clear.

Just say yes, everyone at work had told her.

Finally she had.

Except it wasn’t Paul that she wanted to go out with.

It was, and felt as if it always would be, Zahir.

His name badge read, ‘Zahir, Emergency Consultant.’

The patients did not need to know he was Crown Prince Sheikh Zahir Al Rahal, of Mamlakat Almas.

Her heart hadn’t needed to know that either. She had felt its rate quicken the moment she had seen him, before she had even known his name.

At first sight, even before their first introduction, this odd feeling had taken residence in Adele.

His hair was black and glossy, and his skin was the colour of caramel and just as enticing. The paper gown he’d worn had strained over wide shoulders. There had been an air of control in the resuscitation room even though it had been clear that the patient’s situation had been dire.

He had glanced up from the patient he’d been treating and for a second his silver-grey eyes had met Adele’s and she had felt her cheeks grow warm under his brief gaze.

‘I’m just showing Adele around the department.’ Janet, the nurse unit manager conducting the interview, had explained.

He had given just the briefest of nods and then he had got back to treating the critical patient.

‘As you can see, the resuscitation area has been updated since you were last here,’ Janet had said. ‘We’ve now got five beds and two cots.’

Yes, it had been updated but the basics had been the same.

Adele had stood for a moment, remembering a time, several years previously, when she had been wheeled in here and, given that Janet had been with her on that awful day, she had perhaps understood why Adele had been quiet.

Janet had made no reference to it, though; in fact, as they’d both walked back towards Janet’s office she’d spoken of other things.

‘That was Zahir, one of our emergency consultants,’ Janet said. ‘You’ll have come across him when you did your placement.’

‘No.’ Adele shook her head. ‘He wasn’t here then. I believe he was on leave.’

‘He’s been working here for a couple of years now but, yes, he is away quite a lot. Zahir has a lot of commitments back home so he works on temporary contracts,’ Janet explained. ‘We always cross our fingers that he’ll renew. He’s a huge asset to the department.

‘I’ve worked with his brother, Dakan,’ Adele said.

They both shared a smile.

Dakan had just completed his residency and was a bit wild and cheeky, and she knew from the hospital grapevine that Zahir was the more austere of the two.

Of course she had heard about his brooding dark looks and yet she had never expected him to be quite so attractive.

Adele hadn’t really found anyone that attractive before.

Not that it mattered.

There had been no room in her life for that sort of thing, not that Zahir would even give her a second glance.

‘So,’ Janet said as they headed back to her office, ‘are you still keen to work here?’

‘Very.’ Adele nodded. ‘I never thought I’d want to work in Emergency but during my placement I found that I loved it...’

‘And you’re very good at it. You shall have to work in Resus, though.’

‘I understand that.’

As a student nurse Adele had struggled through her Accident and Emergency placement. She had dreaded going into the room where, even though her mother hadn’t died, Adele had found out that she was lost to her.

Janet, knowing all that had gone on, had been very patient and had given Adele the minimum time in Resus and had looked out for her when she was there. Now, though, if Adele wanted to make Accident and Emergency her specialty, there could be no kid-glove treatment.

‘Are you sure it won’t be too much for you?’ Janet checked.

‘I’m sure.’ Adele nodded. She had given it a lot of thought and she explained what she had come to realise during her training.

‘Really, my mother was in Theatre, in Radiology and ICU. For some reason the Resus room hit me the hardest but I’ve come to understand that there are memories of that time all over the place.’

‘How is Lorna doing now?’ Janet asked carefully.

‘She’s still the same.’ Adele gave a strained smile. ‘She’s in a really lovely nursing home, the staff are just wonderful and I go in and see her at least once a day.’

‘That’s a lot of pressure.’

‘Not really.’ Adele shook her head. ‘I’m not sure if she knows I’m there but I’d hate her to think I’d forgotten her.’

Janet wanted to say something.

Years of visiting her mother at least once a day would take its toll, she knew.

But then Janet understood why it would be so hard for Adele to move on. After all, she knew the details of the accident.

Janet had been working that day.

They had been alerted that there had been a motor-vehicle accident and that there had been five people injured and in the process of being freed from the wreckage of the cars.

Lorna Jenson, a front-seat passenger, had been in critical condition with severe head and chest injuries.

The driver of the other car had abdominal and head injuries and had been brought into Resus too. His wife and daughter had escaped with minor injuries but they had been hysterical and their screams and tears had filled the department.

And finally, as Lorna had been about to be taken to Theatre for surgery to hopefully relieve the pressure on her brain, Janet had gone in to speak with her eighteen-year-old daughter who’d lain staring at the ceiling.

Adele’s blonde hair had been splattered with blood and her face had been as white as the pillow. Her china-blue eyes had not blinked, they’d just stared up at the ceiling and her lips too had been white.

‘Adele?’ Janet checked, and Adele attempted to give a small nod but she was wearing a hard cervical collar. ‘Can you tell me your full name?’ Janet asked as she checked the wristband. She had been busy dealing with the critically injured patient and had to be very sure to whom she was speaking.

‘Adele Jenson.’

‘Good.’ Having confirmed to whom she was speaking, Janet pressed on. ‘I believe that Phillip, the consultant, has been in and spoken with you about your mother.’

‘He has,’ Adele said.

Phillip had been in and had gently told her just how unwell her mother was and that there was a real possibility that she might not make it through the operation.

His glasses had fogged up as he’d looked down at Adele and told her the grim news.

Adele didn’t understand how the doctor had tears in his eyes and yet hers were dry.

Now Janet was looking down at her.

‘She’s going to be going to Theatre very soon.’

‘How’s the man...?’ Adele asked.

‘I’m sorry, Adele, I can’t give you that information.’

‘I can hear his family crying.’

‘I know you can.’

‘How badly are they hurt?’

‘I’m sorry, Adele. Again, I can’t give you that information, it’s to do with patient confidentiality.’

‘I know it is,’ Adele said. ‘I’m a nursing student. But I just need to know how he is, if he’s alive.’

‘It’s very hard for you.’ Janet gave her hand a little squeeze but gave her no information. ‘I wondered if you’d like me to take you in to see your mother before she goes up to Theatre.’

Adele tried to sit up.

‘Just lie there,’ Janet soothed. ‘We’ll wheel you over on the gurney. I can take that collar off you now, Phillip just checked your X-rays and says your neck is fine. It just had to be put on as a precaution.’

Gently she removed it.

‘How do you feel?’ Janet asked.

‘I’m fine,’ Adele said, though, in fact, she felt sick and had the most terrible headache, possibly from sitting in the car as the firefighters had used the Jaws of Life to peel back the roof. The noise had been deafening. The silence from her mother beside her had been far worse, though.

Janet could hear the sound of police radios outside the curtain and one of them asking if they could speak with Adele Jenson.

‘Just one moment,’ Janet said to Adele. She took the police to the far end of the corridor, well out of Adele’s earshot.

‘I’m just about to take her in to see her mother. Can this wait for a little while?’

‘Of course,’ the officer agreed. ‘But we really do need to speak with the other driver.’

‘Learner driver,’ Janet said, and with that one word she asked that they tread very carefully.

The officer nodded.

Janet left them then and wheeled Adele in to see her mother.

At the time Janet was quite sure Lorna wouldn’t make it through surgery.

But she did.

Now Lorna clung to life in a chronic vegetative state.

And her daughter, Janet rightly guessed, was still paying the price for that terrible day.