A Consultant Claims His Bride. Maggie Kingsley
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or was he avoiding looking in her direction? No, he was looking at her. Actually, he was staring at her. Probably thinking, Streuth, but that uniform sure hides a multitude of sins.
Stop it, she told herself, just stop it. It’s plan A, remember? You don’t remember last night. Just keep telling yourself that, and maybe you’ll start to believe it.
‘Sister?’
Tricia Kelly was gazing at her, her eyes very bright, and to Nell’s horror she realised the woman had obviously just asked her something, but she didn’t have a clue what it was. Lord, but now she wasn’t just a drunken slut, she was also completely unprofessional as well.
‘I’m sorry, Tricia,’ she said, her cheeks darkening. ‘I didn’t quite catch…?’
‘I just said I wish I could hold her,’ Tricia replied. ‘If I could hold her, I’d feel…I’d feel she was more mine.’
‘You’ll be able to hold her in a few days,’ Nell said, pulling herself together quickly. ‘At the moment we just want to ensure she’s stabilised, plus—’
‘Plus it can be quite stressful for babies to be touched if they’ve never been held before,’ Jonah chipped in as he joined them. ‘Which, of course, they haven’t because they’ve been safely cocooned in their mumies’ tummies.’
Tricia managed a smile. ‘But won’t I dislodge all those tubes and wires when I’m allowed to hold her?’
Jonah shook his head. ‘They’re all firmly attached and in a few days you won’t even notice them. You’ll be holding and kissing your daughter without a second’s thought.’
He’d kissed her last night, Nell remembered. Or rather, she’d kissed him. Just the once and then he’d wrenched his head away, muttering something unprintable under his breath. It had been a nice kiss, though. Actually, it had been more than nice. It had been…
Unconsciously she shook her head. Booze really screwed up your reasoning powers because, just for a moment when she’d kissed him, she’d felt really odd. Sort of tingly, expectant, almost—
‘Nell?’
Oh, damnation. Now Jonah had obviously asked her something and she didn’t know what that was either. She really was going to have to pull herself together or it wouldn’t be just last night she’d have to worry about. It would be whether she still had a job.
‘It’s Viv Nicolson,’ Jonah murmured, stepping out of earshot of the Kellys. ‘She’s having real problems with the breast pump. I’ve told her the milk will come, but…’ his brown eyes crinkled ‘…I’m at a bit of a disadvantage with not possessing any of the necessary equipment myself, so I wondered if you could have a word, woman to woman.’
‘You know, some people might consider that a very sexist remark,’ she replied, trying and failing to prevent her lips from curving, and he laughed.
‘Guilty as charged, but in this case it’s true.’
‘Yes, but just because I have breasts doesn’t mean I automatically know how to use a breast pump,’ she began, only to immediately wish she hadn’t. Talking about breasts to a man who had seen a lot of hers than he’d probably ever wanted to was not a good idea. ‘I mean…I can try…I’ll do my best.’
And before he could say anything else, she shot off in Viv Nicolson’s direction, determined to lose herself in her work.
It didn’ t help. Nothing helped as the day dragged by. No matter what she did, whether it was trying to reassure Viv that even if she never mastered the breast pump it didn’t matter because formula milk was just as good, or supervising the transfer of Chloe Wilson and Winston Turner to Transitional Care, she knew her mind was only half on her job. One glimpse of Jonah was enough to make her heart slide down into her stomach, and every time he spoke to her she knew she was analysing what he said, looking for hidden references, subtle innuendos.
She was going to go mad if she tried to stick to plan A. It would have to be plan B. Plan B which involved coming clean and apologizing, no matter how toe-curlingly embarrassing it was.
‘Yikes, but you look even worse now than you did when you first came in this morning,’ Fiona observed, when Nell handed her the notes for the night staff. ‘If I were you, I’d go straight home and have an early night.’
‘I fully intend to,’ Nell replied. ‘I just want a quick word with Jonah. Is he about?’
‘He was in his consulting room a few minutes ago, but I’m not sure where he is now.’ The secretary stared at Nell critically. ‘You know, you could be coming down with flu. Liz Fenton was telling me last night—’
‘Got to go, Fiona,’ Nell interrupted, before the secretary could launch into a long and involved saga on who in the nursing staff was currently laid low with what.
Get it over with, she told herself as she headed off down the corridor. Grovel profusely, and get it over with—but not right away, she realised with dismay as she rounded the corner and saw her least favourite member of staff walking towards her.
‘And where are you hurrying off to at such speed, not so little Nell?’ Lawrence Summers, the consultant from Men’s Surgical, said with one of his aren’t-I-wonderful smiles. ‘Not so little Nell, as opposed to the little Nell,’ he added. ‘Get it?’
‘Very amusing, sir,’ she muttered. ‘And now if you’ll excuse me,’ she continued, but he moved faster than she did and blocked her path.
‘It’s Lawrence, Nell, as I keep telling you,’ he said. ‘Not sir, or Mr Summers, but Lawrence. And what’s your hurry? Stay a while, talk to me.’
Yeah, right, she thought. The only reason you want to talk to me is so you can ogle my breasts. So, maybe she was more than generously endowed, but every time she met the consultant it was getting harder and harder to resist the temptation to wrench up his chin and say, ‘Look, I’m more than just a pair of breasts, just as I’m sure you’re more than what you’ve got in your trousers.’
Except she wasn’t one hundred per cent certain that Lawrence actually was more than what he had in his trousers.
Brian had loathed him.
‘Flash beggar,’ he’d said one evening when they’d been having dinner. ‘Getting by on his good looks and so-called charm. I’ve worked with him in Theatre, Nell, and, believe me, he’s all show and no substance. One day he’ll come a cropper.’
Nell didn’t know whether the consultant would or not, but she did know she didn’t want to be ogled by him.
‘I’m afraid I have to go, Mr Summers,’ she said firmly, but before she could push past him he had caught her hand.
‘When are you going to go out with me, Nell?’
When hell freezes over, Lawrence. ‘I’m an engaged woman, sir.’
‘An engaged woman who isn’t wearing her engagement ring,’ he said, lifting her hand into the light and regarding it thoughtfully.
Oh, damn and blast. She’d forgotten to put it back on again after last night, and though she knew she’d have to eventually tell everyone about her broken engagement, Lawrence was the last person on that particular list.
‘It’s in the jeweller’s, she said quickly. ‘I…I noticed one of the stones was loose this morning so I left it with the jeweller to be on the safe side.’
One of Lawrence’s eyebrows rose. ‘Why do I have the feeling you’re lying?’
‘Perhaps because you have an overly suspicious nature?’ Jonah said as he came out of his consulting room. He glanced from Lawrence to Nell, then back again. ‘You also appear to be manhandling a member of my staff.’
His voice was even but Nell could hear the hint of steel beneath it, and so, apparently, could Lawrence because