Читать книгу Falling For Her Fake Fiancé - Sue MacKay, Sue MacKay - Страница 10

CHAPTER TWO

AS KELLI’S FACE paled and her expression became stunned, Mac felt nothing but relief. He’d wager his brand-new, top-of-the-range four-wheel drive that she was not the slightest bit interested in this other man and was not using him to make the guy jealous. ‘Why don’t you just tell him you don’t want to go with him?’

‘I’ve tried heaps of times, but with my parents backing him he thinks I’ll see I’m wrong.’

‘Tricky.’

‘Very.’ Her face tightened, her eyes anxious. ‘You won’t be able to swap your Friday shift at such short notice.’ Then the caution deepened. ‘Will you?’

Seemed having a partner was important to Kelli. Deep despair had dulled her eyes earlier when she’d been on the phone presumably talking to Tamara. He’d been within touching distance and yet she hadn’t noticed him or any of the people pushing past. It was that despair that had him offering to help her out because he’d been there, knew how hard it was to face demons alone. Not the sanest offer he’d ever made when he was meant to be trying to put distance between them, but would he retract it? No way. Even if that was where he might be headed this weekend. ‘I’ll pull in a favour. You going to tell me what this is about?’

Her eyes widened as she looked beyond him. ‘Later,’ she murmured.

‘Kelli, can you meet the ambulance due any minute?’ Stephanie was upon them. ‘We’ve got an eighteen-year-old male, drowned while surfing at Piha. He was revived, but secondary drowning is now a concern. You want this one, Mac?’

No, I want a case three floors up where I don’t have to see Kelli, hear her voice, or be reminded what a total pushover I’ve been. Partner Kelli to her brother’s wedding? I can’t believe I offered to do that. Talk about a stupid idea.

It wasn’t as if Kelli had begged him. She’d been shocked by his offer. Mac tapped his head with a clenched hand. ‘I’ll see him. Michael might like to join us since secondary drowning doesn’t occur every day.’ Then the atmosphere around Kelli and himself would be diluted somewhat.

‘I’ll go tell him.’

The bell from the ambulance bay was loud in the sudden silence between him and Kelli. Then she shook her head and rushed off to collect their patient, those endless, shapely legs eating up the distance with haste.

Mac watched her go. Waited for her to return. One hour working with her and he knew he’d made a big mistake filling the vacancy with Kelli. Not that he’d had any choice. She was distraction personified, made it impossible to think logically. Hence putting his hand up for that wedding position. What other reckless suggestions would he be making after a whole shift? A week? He’d be better off spending the coming weekend at Piha Beach where he could dig a large hole in the black sand dunes and bury himself, not spending the days on Waiheke with Kelli, mixing and mingling with her family, and no doubt being given a thorough look over.

No, mate, that’s not your problem. The real problem here is that hotel suite. Double beds are a given in these places.

All he could hope for was that there were two. But something deep in his gut told him what fate thought of that idea.

Two nights sharing a room with Kelli would test him beyond measure. Hell, one night dancing with her in Sydney had burned him deep. Deep enough to bring up all the walls to keep from getting close when they were outside her hotel room and the enormity of what they’d been about to do hit home. Even casual sex with Kelli would’ve exposed more of himself than he had since his beloved Cherie. Mac grimaced. No pun intended. He hadn’t been ready to let his emotions out of the box when they were still tender and bruised. The weeks Kelli’d been in Fiji had been a relief. Had given him time to put that escapade into perspective. He’d been determined that Kelli was not going to become a part of his life outside work. Yet one hour in and already that was a total screw up.

They were going to spend a whole weekend together. All because of his big gob.

Over the past six weeks he’d missed her more than he’d believed possible. But he wasn’t ready. Doubted he ever would be. Not even a short fling with no strings. Doubted Kelli was a casual fling kind of girl given the intensity she approached people, work, pretty much everything, with. Unfortunately for her, for him, he’d given his heart to Cherie, and didn’t have a second one beating in his chest. Moving beyond the dark that had resided in there since—since the day his life had blown apart and grief became his norm—wasn’t possible.

Yet whenever an email from Kelli had come in on the department site during the past weeks he’d read it avidly to see what she was up to. Her account of fishing far out from land in a tiny canoe with the locals had had his heart racing, even though she’d obviously returned safely. There’d been a photo of a grinning Kelli holding up a trevally she’d caught. That grin had got to him, tightened his gut and other parts of his anatomy, but, worse, it had started gnawing away as if he was missing the point somehow.

He’d wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat only to lie staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding while images of Kelli paraded through his skull. Kelli in that figure-defining bridesmaid dress, Kelli dancing at Tamara and Conor’s wedding celebrations, Kelli strolling down Darling Harbour pier afterwards in six-inch-high green shoes as if she were in sneakers. In his arms, reminding him of what he’d lost and couldn’t contemplate opening up for again. In case he...

‘Mac?’ Stephanie waved a hand in front of him. ‘Your patient’s in cubicle two.’

Truly? How had he missed the stretcher being pushed past? Was it possible that Fiji Hospital ED needed to swap out a doctor requiring to upgrade his or her skills? Could it be a twelve-month exchange? Because he was available, as of right now. ‘I’ll just grab Michael.’

‘He’s already there.’

If he didn’t know better he’d believe Stephanie was laughing at him. So he didn’t answer, didn’t give her anything else to be amused about. Pushing through the curtain into cubicle two, he introduced himself to the young man. ‘Beau, I’m Mac, a doctor. I hear you got into some trouble surfing this afternoon.’

‘The ambo guy said I drowned. But that was ages ago. Why am I in here? The surf club guys brought me round.’ His hands were picking at the bedcover. Grumpy and twitchy.

‘Drowning’s no picnic. We need to monitor you for a while. Also I want to see if there’s any water still in your lungs.’

‘I reckon I coughed it all up. A little bit can’t hurt, can it?’ The words were snapped out. Aftershock from drowning, or his normal mannerism? He did appear a little bewildered.

‘Do you remember much about things before the helicopter picked you up off Piha Beach?’

‘Lots of people hanging around, talking at me.’

Kelli already had the pulse oximeter on his finger to keep tabs on his oxygen saturation. She was focused on their patient.

As he should be.

‘Can you sit still for me, mate?’ Michael asked. ‘I can’t listen to your lungs while you’re moving so much.’

Beau scowled but sat stiffly, only moving to breathe deep when Michael asked.

Mac explained. ‘You drowned, and had to be resuscitated. We need to keep an eye on you for a while yet in case there are any complications.’ Mac glanced at Kelli. ‘Heart rate?’

‘Sixty-nine.’

Near to normal. Moving in beside her, Mac said quietly, ‘Watch for mood swings. Beau seems edgy, but that might be his personality.’ He tried not to breathe in that scent of flowers, but his lungs couldn’t hold out until he’d moved away. Roses. Red ones. Like the ones in his mother’s garden when he was growing up. But this scent was beguiling and tempting and—unwelcome. He bit down on the groan of longing building in the back of his throat. The night ahead stretched out interminably.

A bell sounded from the ambulance bay. Relieved to have an excuse to get out of this airless cubicle, Mac turned to head away. Drawn back to Kelli, he coughed. Let it go, man. But he just couldn’t. ‘It’s good to have you back. The place’s been dull lately.’ It had? She hadn’t even worked the same shift as him until today.

‘I’m not noisy.’ The tone might’ve been sharp but her mouth twisted in that adorable way he’d begun noticing at the wedding dinner.

‘I always know when you’re around.’ Talking too much, Mac Taylor. There were hours to get through yet. And this was only day one of three hundred and sixty-five minus weekends. All those days to get to know Kelli and maybe understand why he felt different around her, if there was some hope for his future.

Kelli’s head shot up. Despair and puzzlement shone out of her cobalt eyes. A faint pink blush stained her cheeks. ‘Just as well I’ve been away then, isn’t it?’

Mac forced his mouth shut and made for the curtain again, his stomach in a knot. He didn’t trust himself not to come out with something equally stupid as that last little nugget. Before she’d taken the job in Fiji he’d only ever seen her as her shift was finishing and his beginning. Yes, and he’d always noticed her. Now he’d gone and told her much the same. Didn’t make sense. It wasn’t as though he was interested in her outside work.

Then why had he taken her to that Sydney night club after Conor and Tamara’s wedding? How could he not, when she’d been beautiful in her emerald-coloured fitted gown and those shoes that weren’t made for walking? Yet Kelli had walked the length of the pier and back in them. She had to be some kind of acrobat to be able to do that without falling off the heels and breaking her long neck. A delectable, beautiful, annoying acrobat whom he’d kissed—a lot. And ever since then, he’d not been able to forget any moment of that night. Was that why he’d agreed to go to this next wedding with her? Because after the last ceremony they’d made out together, and might repeat the scenario? He needed his head read—by an expert in craziness.

Behind the curtain he heard Beau ask in a wavering voice, ‘Can I phone my mum?’

‘Of course,’ Kelli answered. ‘Here’s your daypack. Will your phone be in there somewhere?’

‘I hope so.’ The guy suddenly sounded much younger and vulnerable.

‘I’ll leave you alone to call her, but I won’t go far in case you’re worried something might happen. Want a coffee?’

Mac made a beeline for Resus and the patient being wheeled through from the ambulance. Having Kelli find him hanging around outside the cubicle was not an option. He might feel like a seventeen-year-old in lust but for Kelli to recognise that would blow the lid on any hope of working together with some semblance of normality. As for what spending the weekend in close proximity of each other would do to him, he couldn’t begin to imagine.

The paramedic greeted him with, ‘Mac, this is George Falkiner, fifty-one, a digger driver. The ground gave way under his three-ton machine and he was tossed out and then hit by the bucket. He’s stat one, hasn’t regained consciousness in the time we’ve been with him. Multiple fractures to both arms and the right leg. Suspected internal injuries around the spleen and liver.’

‘I’m surprised he’s still breathing. Let’s get him onto a bed and hooked up to our gear. On the count, everyone.’ Their patient was quickly transferred from the stretcher to the bed, and Mac began an examination. ‘Stephanie, I need blood bank on the line yesterday.’ The guy was losing blood from a torn artery in his groin faster than water leaving a bath. Those internal injuries would be bleeding too. ‘Get some group O sent down and a tech to take a crossmatch sample for further transfusions.’

‘Onto it.’

‘Then call Radiology.’ Mac had started at the man’s skull, gently probing for crushed bones and bleeds. He did not like the guy’s chances, but that wouldn’t stop him doing everything within his power to save him. Including putting all thoughts of Kelli aside.

Around him nurses and another doctor worked quietly and efficiently stemming blood flows, monitoring heart rate and blood pressure, examining limbs and probing for other injuries. A lab tech arrived with blood and a test kit to take a sample for blood grouping. George Falkiner had a damned good team on his side.

The cardiac monitor emitted the flat sound of no heartbeat. Mac snatched up the paddles. ‘Stand back.’ With a check that everyone had done as ordered he applied the electric jolt needed to restart the man’s heart. It worked. ‘Now there’s a wonder. He’s lost so much blood I didn’t expect to bring him back.’ But for how long? Sometimes things worked right, and sometimes: well, Mac wasn’t going there. His patient didn’t need the negative vibes. He’d managed to score enough on his own.

Mac was completely unaware of anything going on outside Resus. His focus was entirely on his patient, and it wasn’t until they’d finally stopped the bleeding except for some internal strife, that he began to think there was a chance this man might make it. Radiology took their pictures, Theatre was on standby, and a general surgeon and orthopaedic surgeon were up to speed on what was required for their patient.

When George was finally wheeled away to Theatre Mac straightened his aching back and rolled his neck to loosen the muscles that were sporadically cramping. ‘Glad that’s over.’

‘Grab a break while you can.’ Michael spoke from the desk. ‘The numbers are starting to crank up out in the waiting room but nothing urgent. I’ll go after you get back.’

‘Think I will.’ A cold drink and something to eat would do wonders for the weariness gripping him now that the urgency of that case had gone. Tossing his scrubs into the laundry bin and pulling on clean ones, he headed for his office and the snack he’d put together earlier at home.

Once at his office desk he decided to stay put and do a bit of paperwork while he chewed on sandwiches. Even signing off a single document was one less to worry about. Not mentioning that in this airless pokey room he was safe from Kelli scent, Kelli comments, and definitely the wariness in those blue eyes that had appeared from the moment he’d agreed to be her partner this coming weekend.

Knock, knock. A head popped around his door. Kelli. Of course. So much for a few minutes’ escape.

‘Hi, everything okay?’

She stayed in the doorway. ‘Just giving you the heads up. A nine-year-old girl fell ten metres off the family deck onto a fence post. Stat one. The chopper’s bringing her in from Waitakere, ETA approximately ten minutes.’

Mac winced. ‘Nine, eh? That’s a small body to land on a solid object from that high.’

‘The mother’s with her.’ Kelli stared at her hands. ‘A parent’s nightmare really.’

‘How do parents cope with not always being able to keep their kids safe? It would drive me crazy.’ Keeping those he loved or cared about safe was as ingrained as taking a shower every day. Not that he always did well at saving people. He looked at his bare ring finger as if he needed reminding.

‘I guess they can only set the boundaries, keep a vigilant eye out, and cross their fingers.’

That didn’t stop bad things happening. He’d done all of that and yet his wife had died. In bed. Beside him. While he slept. He was a doctor, and that had meant absolutely nothing when he was most needed. He should’ve sensed something was wrong with Cherie even in his comatose state brought on by exhaustion after too many sixteen-hour shifts in ED. But he hadn’t. The aneurysm had been a silent killer, stealing the love of his life and their unborn infant.

Pushing down on the flare of pain and distress, he growled, ‘Let me know when the helicopter’s landed.’

‘Yes, Doctor.’ The door closed with a small bang.

Fair cop. It wasn’t Kelli’s fault he was flawed, hadn’t been able to save Cherie. No, that was his to own. But it didn’t give him licence to be surly with Kelli. Yet how to keep her away? How to stop the fissures she was opening within him from spreading throughout his soul just by being around her? She had hang-ups aplenty. Was always trying to appease people and keep the department happy and relaxed—except when it came to him. Then she could be lippy as all hell. Lippy. Lips. Oh, hell.

Those lips, that mouth. Soft while demanding, hot and giving, made to bring a man to his knees. How he’d walked away that night was beyond him. Showed the strength of his fear of opening up to another woman, because, as far as he could work out, that was the only reason he’d hightailed it away from her.

Hopefully his abrupt dismissal might keep her distant for the rest of the shift. By tomorrow he’d be over whatever was tying him in knots every time Kelli came near, and remember only that she was an exceptional nurse who always went the extra distance for her patients.

An attractive nurse with a body that filled scrubs in a tantalising way they weren’t designed for.

A woman with shiny dark blonde hair piled on top of her head and kept in place with carefully positioned decorative combs. And when those combs came out, the thick locks had been satin in his fingers.

He wouldn’t think of the smile that warmed him right down to his toes, and the laugh that lodged in his chest when he wasn’t on guard.

All of that was before Sydney, buster. Not only since then.

Mac threw his pen at the far wall. Ping. Didn’t underline his feelings. The water bottle followed. Bigger ping. Just as well he’d already drunk the contents.

Not feeling any better here. Cherie had been the love of his life. Had been? Still was. There wasn’t room for another one. He’d never recover if something went wrong a second time. He was still recovering from losing Cherie.

Where was that chopper?

Ten minutes could whizz past in seconds, or it could drag out into an hour. Today was the drawn-out version. Mac chewed and chewed on his tasteless sandwich: cold beef with zucchini pickle care of his mother. She sent him a package about once a month, filled with jars of homemade jams and pickles, a fruit cake, and sometimes in winter homemade chocolates, which he gave to the kid next door. Comfort food that he enjoyed but wouldn’t admit to in case it made him look like a spoiled brat.

His mother had been the cushion in his life growing up with a tyrannical father who believed his way was the only way for just about everything. Make that absolutely everything. So the packages were warmly accepted as a reminder of his mother’s unconditional love and how not everyone was hard on others. They’d stopped when Mac married, but about a month after Cherie died there’d been one on the doorstep when he’d got home from work, and they hadn’t stopped since.

Stephanie waltzed through the door without any preamble. ‘Our girl’s being brought down from the landing pad now.’

Instantly on his feet, Mac tossed the remainder of his snack in the bin. ‘Let’s go.’

‘If it’s okay, I’ve put Kelli on this one. She’s good with the littlies.’

So were other nurses, and they weren’t distracting. But, ‘Why wouldn’t it be all right?’

Stephanie watched him, her head on a slight angle. ‘I think you can probably answer that better than me, but it seems she’s got you rattled.’

Fortunately Stephanie headed out of the room so he didn’t have to come up with some unlikely reply, denial being at the top of the list. And if he denied what she was implying, he’d be lying.

His gut had been in turmoil from the moment he’d seen Kelli on the sidewalk outside the hospital on the phone to Tamara, and didn’t feel as if it intended settling down any time soon.

Time to focus on the job, starting with the young girl now arriving in ED.

* * *

Izzie had been given morphine making her barely comatose, which was a good thing, Mac decided as they worked to find the extent of her injuries. She’d hit the post with her thigh, fracturing the bone in three places. Her pelvis hadn’t come off any better.

‘Thankfully none of her organs were damaged,’ Mac informed the girl’s mother as they waited for the orderly to take the child to Theatre to have those bones seen to. ‘Nor is there any head injury apart from the cut above her eye, though there’s a severe whiplash to her neck, which will cause ongoing issues with headaches and muscle tension. Izzie will be referred to a neurologist for help with that.’

Tears poured down the young mother’s face as she gripped her unconscious daughter’s hand. ‘But she will be all right? Won’t she? Please say yes.’

He wanted to. He really wanted to. It was inherent in him to make people feel better, or safe, or at least able to function normally. It was something that had started the day he saw his father kicking the family dog for being sick on the kitchen floor. Mac had snatched Pippy away and run for the garden shed, only to be followed and given a lesson in not letting animals or people turn him into a miserable excuse for a man.

But being honest was right up there too. ‘Izzie may always walk with a limp. Whiplash can also be hard to completely put right.’

The tears became a torrent. ‘My poor little girl. It’s not fair. She’s always been such a monkey, climbing trees and ladders and getting into places no one would’ve thought possible. She terrifies me at times, but there’s no stopping her. She thinks she’s bulletproof.’

‘She’s probably had the biggest wake-up call possible.’ Or she’ll take it on the chin and carry on being a monkey. ‘Parenting, eh? Who said it was easy?’

‘You got kids, Doctor?’

Cherie had been four months pregnant when she died. ‘No.’ The word spat out, so he added with more restraint, ‘Not yet.’ Never. Unless... Unless he could talk about the past, undo those crippling fears enough to let the sun shine in—as in Kelli sunshine.

Right that moment Kelli walked past, helping her next patient, an elderly man with what appeared to be severe arthritis in his leg. She did not acknowledge him. Had been distant in the room with Izzie. Had been distant ever since leaving his office an hour ago.

Hopefully she’d find him a smile before the end of the week or it was going to be a long, awkward weekend on Waiheke Island. It was already a long, awkward shift.

Bring on eleven p.m.

* * *

That time did eventually tick over. Monday’s were never frantic but this one seemed quieter than usual. In other ways Mac’s mind was constantly on alert, Kelli alert. Her laughter, her voice, scent, the way the air cracked like an approaching storm. For eight hours he’d been put through the wringer, his body tense and filled with need. Immediately after completing handover he grabbed his bag and headed to the staff gym in the hospital basement. A hard workout would fix what ailed him.

In shorts and sleeveless sports top Mac strode into the workout room and slammed to a halt. He wasn’t alone. Nothing new in that. But never before had Kelli Barnett been here at the same time. Then again, she worked night shift now. He hadn’t known she worked out. Memories of firm muscles and a flat abdomen, a stunning figure accentuated by that dress, waved at him, reminding him of how his groin had tightened. Was tightening now. Went to show he hadn’t really thought about it.

As he watched those long legs running on the treadmill his heart rate was increasing exponentially. Endless legs wound around his waist as they—Gulp. Out of here, now. She hadn’t seen him. He’d be gone before that changed. No way was he working out in the same room as Kelli.

‘Hey, Mac, how’s things?’

Spinning around, he came face to face with the surgeon who’d operated on young Izzie. ‘Andrew, haven’t seen you in here for a while.’ And I’m not about to, considering I’m on my way out.

The pounding of feet on that treadmill was increasing in speed and noise. If Kelli was working up to a top speed she wouldn’t be looking around the gym to see who else was here. He might still get away.

‘Want to lift some weights?’ Andrew asked.

‘Not tonight.’ He stepped aside, intent on leaving, but couldn’t resist glancing across to the treadmills.

Caught. Kelli was holding onto the handlebar with one hand and staring at him as though she was oblivious to what her legs were doing. Her face a picture of surprise and—and annoyance? Either way, she definitely wasn’t happy to see him.

She stumbled. Grabbed at the bar with her free hand, tried to get back to the measured, fast steps required to keep up with the machine’s set speed. She kept tripping, as if she couldn’t quite get it right.

Mac was already halfway to her. ‘Hit the slow button,’ he called as worry thickened his throat. Fall and chances were she’d twist an ankle or sprain a wrist.

The treadmill stopped. Instantly. Kelli lurched forward, banging into the control panel.

‘The slow button, not the off one.’ But he was too late telling her that.

Kelli remained upright, her breasts rising and falling fast, her hands at her sides. But man, could she curse.

Mac stopped beside the treadmill and watched her, his worry backing off, replaced with silent laughter as she gave herself a right lecture. ‘Come on. You’re not that bad,’ he intervened at last.

Then she removed earplugs and glanced at him. ‘Did you say something?’

‘Nothing as potent as that diatribe I just heard.’

Heat seared her cheeks, turning them a sharp shade of crimson. ‘Ouch. Did anyone else hear me?’

‘I doubt it. You’re a quiet banshee.’

‘I’m stupid, is what I am. Losing focus and nearly falling flat on my backside. I can see the photos now. All dressed up for the wedding and sporting bruises up and down my thighs.’

That brought up a mental picture Mac couldn’t contain. His gaze dropped to her thighs. Under Lycra they were toned, smooth, mouth-watering. The skin he could see was tanned, probably the result of time spent in the tropical sun. Then he heard the rest of her sentence. ‘Is your dress very short?’

‘It’s ankle length.’ Kelli looked away. ‘With splits up both sides.’

‘How high do these splits go?’ He wasn’t going to survive if they reached higher than her shins.

‘Umm, to the top of my thighs.’ She still didn’t look at him.

‘Oh, man.’ Survival was out. His heart was already practising speed-dialling and another part of his anatomy was doing a sit-up. ‘I see.’ Unfortunately he could. His imagination was particularly overactive tonight. Pumping a few weights wouldn’t have helped at all. He’d probably pull a muscle. Don’t go there, his mind shouted.

‘You getting on a treadmill?’ his tormentor asked.

‘I’ll hit the rowing machine first.’ Instantly he wanted to snatch the words back. What was wrong with one of the cycle machines? They weren’t directly in front of the treadmills.

‘Right,’ Kelli muttered and punched some buttons to start the conveyor beneath her feet moving. ‘Right,’ a little louder as she slipped her earplugs back in place, pressed the gradient mode and began pounding uphill.