Hot Docs On Call: Healing His Heart. Alison Roberts
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up any rights to him in favour of drugs, foster parents, who’d started the adoption process then abandoned him when they’d fallen pregnant themselves, and her, who’d sent him to get burned up in school. It might have failed her once but that protective streak was back with a vengeance.
‘We couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m sure you have other patients to see and we’ve already taken up so much of your time.’ She knew these extra little visits weren’t necessary. They had highly skilled nurses and play specialists to make these transitions easier for the children. These informal chats and games made her feel singled out. As if he was trying to suss out her capability to look after Simon outside of the hospital. The nurses had noticed too, remarking how much extra time he’d devoted to Simon’s recovery and she didn’t appreciate it as much as they probably thought she should. He wasn’t going to sneak his way into her affections the way Darryl had, then use her fostering against her; she’d learned that lesson the hard way. She could do this. Alone.
‘Not at all. I’m always willing to pass on my secrets to a budding apprentice.’ He held out his hand again and Simon shook it with his good arm, bypassing her concerns.
‘I just mean perhaps you should be concentrating on the surgery rather than performing for us.’ The barb was enough to furrow that brow again but he had a knack for getting her back up. Handsome or not, she wouldn’t let him cause Simon any more pain than necessary.
The wounded look in his usually sparkling green eyes instantly made her regret being such a cow to him when he’d been nothing but kind to Simon since the accident. His smile was quickly back in place but it no longer reached anywhere past his mouth.
‘It’s no problem. I can do both. I’ll see you soon, kiddo.’ He ruffled Simon’s hair and turned to leave. ‘Can I have a word outside, Ms Grady?’
As he brushed past her, close enough to whisper into her ear, Quinn’s whole body shivered with awareness. A combination of nerves and physical attraction. Neither of which she had control over any longer.
‘Sure,’ she said although she suspected he wasn’t giving her a choice; she felt as though she was being called into the headmaster’s office for misbehaving. A very hot headmaster who wasn’t particularly happy with her. Unsurprising, really, when she’d basically just insulted him on a professional level.
She promised Simon she’d be back soon and took a deep breath before she followed Matt out the door.
‘I know you’re having a tough time at the moment but I’d really appreciate it if you stopped questioning my dedication to my job in front of my patient.’
It was the first time Quinn had seen him riled in all of these weeks. He was always so calm in the face of her occasional hysteria, so unflappable through every hurdle of Simon’s treatment. Although it was unsettling to see the change in him, that intense passion, albeit for his work, sent tingles winding through her body until her toes curled, knowing she was the one who’d brought it to the fore. She found herself wondering how deep his passions lay and how else they might manifest…
He cleared his throat and reminded her she was supposed to speak, to argue back. She questioned what he was doing, he pulled her up on it and claimed rank when it came to Simon’s health care—that was the way this went. It kept her from going completely round the bend imagining the worst that could happen when she’d be the one left dealing with the consequences on her own. She was supposed to be the overprotective mother voicing her concerns that everything being done was in her son’s best interests, just as he was the one to insist he knew what he was doing. Fantasising about Matt in any other capacity, or his emotions getting the better of him, definitely wasn’t in their well-rehearsed script.
‘Yeah…well…I’d appreciate it if you didn’t give Simon false hope that everything will go back to normal. We’ve both had enough of people letting us down.’ Not that she knew what normal was, but although he deserved a break, they had to be realistic too.
‘I’m not in the habit of lying to my patients…’
‘No? What about this miracle spray-on skin which was supposed to fast-track his recovery? It’s been two months and his burns are still very much visible. I should’ve known it was too good to be true when you would only use it to treat his facial burns and not the ones on his arm. I mean, if it was such a wonder cure it would make sense to use it everywhere and not make him go through these skin grafts anyway.’ She was aware her voice had gone up a few decibels and yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself when something good she’d believed was going to happen hadn’t. This time it wasn’t only her hopes that were being dashed.
Matt simply sighed when Quinn would’ve understood if he’d thrown his hands up and walked away. Deep down she knew he’d done his best, and yet, they were still here going through the same painful process.
‘I can only reiterate what I told you at the start. It will take time. Perhaps the progress we have made isn’t as noticeable to you because you see him every day, but the scars are beginning to fade. It’s as much as we can hope for at this stage. As I explained, this is a new treatment, not readily available everywhere in the UK, and funding is hard to come by. The burns on Simon’s arm are full thickness, not suitable for the trial, otherwise I’d have fought tooth and nail to make it happen. But he’s young—his skin will heal quicker than yours or mine. Besides, I’m good at what I do.’ There wasn’t any obvious arrogance in his words or stance. It was simply a statement of fact. Which did nothing to pull her mind out of the gutter.
‘So you keep telling me,’ she muttered under her breath. However, despite his conscientious efforts, Simon no longer resembled the child she’d been charged with minding, either physically or mentally.
‘I meant what I said. I’m not in the habit of lying to sick kids, or their beautiful mothers.’ His forehead smoothed out as he stopped being cross with her.
The renewed smile combined with the reassuring touch of his hands on her shoulders sent those shivers back Irish dancing over her skin. She was too busy squealing inside at the compliment to correct him again about being Simon’s foster mother.
Unfortunately, in her experience she couldn’t always take people’s word as truth. It wasn’t that long ago Darryl had sworn he was in this thing with her.
‘I hope not,’ she said, the cold chill moving to flatten the first fizz of ardour she’d felt since her ex abandoned her and the future they’d planned together.
Simon’s fate was entirely in this man’s hands. Matt’s skills on the operating table would determine his long-term appearance and probably his self-esteem along with it. It was too much to expect her to put her faith entirely in the word of a virtual stranger. Especially when the men closest to her had littered her life with broken promises and dreams.
Quinn Grady was a grade-A pain in the backside. In the most understandable way. Matt had seen his fair share of anxious parents over the years. His line of work brought people to him in their most fragile, vulnerable state and it was only natural that emotions ran high, but she’d spent most of the last couple of months questioning his every decision, seemingly doubting his ability to get Simon through the other side of his injuries. It was exhausting for all of those concerned. Normally he outlined his treatment plan and got on with it but somehow this case had drifted off course.
The spray-on skin was a relatively new treatment. Instead of these painful skin grafts, a small sample of healthy skin was removed from the patient and placed in a processing unit where it reproduced in a special suspension solution which was then sprayed over the damaged area where it continued to grow and multiply. There was no risk of the patient’s body rejecting it because it was from the patient’s own cells. The regenerative nature of this process meant the wounds healed rapidly in comparison to traditional techniques, such as the one he was performing now. If it wasn’t for the extensive burns on Simon’s arm, where he’d defended himself from the flames, he wouldn’t have to go through the skin grafts