Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant. Sarah Morgan
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one point she’d thought he had. He’d fooled her with a display of gentleness that had turned her insides to jelly but she knew now that that was just part of his superior bedroom technique.
‘You’ve obviously thought about it a lot.’ Charlotte hung the giving set over the stand and looked at her quizzically. ‘But you’re getting married so you must believe in love and commitment.’
Did she?
Katy turned her attention back to the intubation tray, not wanting to shatter Charlotte’s romantic illusions.
She certainly wasn’t in love with Freddie.
And she didn’t feel guilty about it because she knew that Freddie wasn’t in love with her either. He was marrying her because she was the right sort of girl with the right sort of connections and that suited her fine. She didn’t want love.
Her one experience of love had been a shattering, all-consuming experience that had threatened her very existence.
I don’t do commitment, Katy.
‘Not that we hospital staff really get a look in,’ Charlotte said gloomily, tearing off her plastic apron and lobbing it in the bin. ‘He’s dating a stunning Brazilian model at the moment. The real woman type. Legs up to her armpits and boobs to make a man drool. She’s a very lucky woman.’
Katy clenched her fists and told herself firmly that she didn’t care who Jago was dating. It was none of her business.
And she wanted to end the conversation.
‘I’d better get back to the main area and see some more patients,’ she said quickly, anxious to get away from Charlotte. She was nice but she didn’t need to talk about Jago. Working with him and seeing him every day was bad enough without talking about him as well.
CHAPTER FOUR
KATY’S first week passed quickly and every time she looked up Jago seemed to be there, challenging her, asking questions, his handsome face inscrutable.
Determined not to make a mistake, she examined every patient meticulously, made sure that her questions were detailed, never took anything at face value. And in her opinion she’d performed well. But Jago hadn’t uttered a single word of praise and she was starting to feel the strain.
Was he going to keep this up indefinitely?
Did he really think that she wasn’t up to the pressures of A and E or did he have another reason for not wanting her in his department.
A more personal reason perhaps?
On her first Saturday night working on A and E a fight broke out in the street behind the hospital. They heard the sound of police sirens and a few minutes later a group of drunks staggered through the door that led to the ambulance bay, half-supporting a man who seemed barely conscious.
‘Hey, you!’ One of the drunks waved a hand at Charlotte who frowned with distaste.
‘You can’t come in through that entrance,’ she said tightly. ‘It’s reserved for emergency vehicles. You need to—’
‘Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,’ the man slurred, his eyes flashing angrily at Charlotte as he struggled to remain upright and focus. ‘Get me a bloody doctor. Now!’
Charlotte stiffened and turned to Jago expectantly.
‘This is one for Katy,’ he delivered softly, his dark eyes connecting with Katy’s in unmistakable challenge.
There was no missing the message in his gaze. This was one of the situations he was convinced she’d never be able to deal with, and he was testing her.
She almost laughed. She’d probably had more experience with drunk, violent men than he had.
Ignoring Charlotte’s shocked murmur of protest, Katy stepped forward, her manner calm and professional.
‘That looks like a nasty cut.’
She addressed her remarks directly to the injured man, who barely acknowledged her presence.
His head rolled onto his chest and his expression was glazed.
Was he drunk or was he suffering the consequences of a head injury?
She’d read enough to be aware of the potential pitfalls of dismissing someone as drunk. There were plenty of horror stories about people who’d been discharged from Casualty only to die the next day as a result of a head injury that no one had taken seriously. Drink could mask a number of symptoms and she had no intention of missing anything.
She turned to his friend, who was clearly having trouble staying upright. ‘What’s his name?’
‘James.’
‘And what happened?’
The man swayed slightly. ‘He fell over and banged his head.’
He was slurring his words so badly that it was difficult to understand him, but Katy knew how important it was to obtain some sort of history. ‘And did he knock himself out?’
The man shrugged, his eyes glazed. ‘Dunno.’
Great. Some history.
‘All right.’ Katy’s tone was brisk. ‘Well, I need to take a look at his head. Why don’t you sit him over there and then go and give his details to Reception?’
The man didn’t answer, his body swaying as he watched her. ‘I asked for a doctor. You’re never a doctor.’
Katy gave a calm smile. The same smile she’d used on her father time and time again.
Don’t antagonise him, Katy.
‘I’m a doctor.’ She spoke quietly, knowing better than to joke or argue with him or enter into any conversation that wasn’t necessary. She could see that the man was very drunk and suspected that he was only too keen to pick a fight. ‘Now, if you’ll just sit him over here, I can take a look at his head.’
Without giving the man time to argue, she took charge and helped the injured man onto the couch in the first cubicle, half-drawing the curtain around him.
She looked at Charlotte. ‘Would you mind showing his friend the way to Reception so that he can give some details, please?’
Charlotte nodded, her eyes wide with admiration. ‘Of course.’
Jago said nothing. He just leaned broad shoulders against the wall, his eyes narrowed as he watched Katy.
Trying to hide how much his presence affected her, Katy reached for an ophthalmoscope to examine the patient’s eyes, but as she put a hand on the man’s head, he gave a groan and lurched towards her. She sidestepped neatly and he vomited over the floor.
Katy reached for a bowl and held it for the man while he retched and mumbled incoherently.
Charlotte, back from Reception, rolled her eyes in disgust. ‘It’s on your shoes,’ she muttered, and Katy shook her head dismissively.
‘I’ll sort that out later.’ She didn’t care about her shoes but she was seriously worried about her patient. Were the symptoms he was displaying the result of alcohol or the bang on the head he’d received? It was such a difficult decision.
If she admitted a patient who was perfectly healthy, she’d be wasting precious hospital resources. On the other hand, if she discharged him and his symptoms were the result of a serious head injury, she would have failed in her duty as a doctor.
Medicine had never seemed so complicated.
She knew that she could ask Jago for advice but she didn’t want to. He might take it as a sign of weakness on her