The Spanish Consultant's Baby

‘Do you have any other questions?’ Ramón asked.

‘Not right now,’ Mandy said.

‘Then I’ll leave you with your son.’

To his surprise, Sister Jacobs followed him. ‘I wondered if we could have a quick word in my office, Dr Martinez?’

She was very formal with him, he noticed—and yet she’d used first names with Stephen’s parents. The smile had gone, too. Ramón had a feeling he was just about to find out what had upset Sister Jennifer Jacobs. ‘Of course,’ he said politely, and walked with her to her office.

‘Do sit down,’ she said, indicating a seat next to her desk and closing the door behind them.

‘What’s the problem?’ he asked.

‘You.’

He blinked. ‘What?’

‘Lizzy Bowers. You bawled her out in front of Stephen’s parents and made her cry.’

He gave a short laugh of disbelief. ‘She was dropping things everywhere. When I asked her a question, she couldn’t answer because she hadn’t been listening to what I was saying. And I will not tolerate sloppy nursing, particularly with young children who have just come round from a general anaesthetic and whose parents are worried sick.’

‘Lizzy’s my best student—she’s in her final year, she’s passed her exams so far with flying colours and she’s very far from sloppy. And I, Dr Martínez, will not tolerate any doctor bullying my staff. You owe her an apology.’

Her voice was quiet and controlled—and absolutely implacable. This was a woman who didn’t need to shout to make her point.

But he had a point, too. A good one. He folded his arms. ‘Sister Jacobs, perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. My patient comes first. And I expect any nurse on this ward to be competent.’

‘Lizzy is perfectly competent.’

‘Not from what I saw.’

‘At the moment she’s a little sensitive.’ Jennifer bit her lip. ‘Look, this isn’t common knowledge on the ward, so I trust you will keep what I tell you confidential?’

She’d phrased it as a question but he knew it wasn’t a request. He nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘Her aunt has breast cancer. They’re waiting for a biopsy result to see whether it’s spread to the lymph nodes.’

‘And Lizzy’s close to this aunt?’ Ramón guessed.

‘Her aunt brought her up. So it’s more like a mother-daughter bond.’

Ramón nodded. ‘I didn’t know about her family problems. But my patients must come first. If she can’t concentrate on her job, she should take some time off.’

‘Keeping busy is the best thing you can do while you’re waiting for news.’

‘Not when it puts my patients at risk.’

‘Lizzy is a perfectly competent nurse,’ she repeated. ‘If you have an issue with her work, by all means talk to her about it—but in private. Not in front of patients, or their parents, or other staff. I expect my nurses to be treated with respect, as the professionals they are.’

Professional. That was it—the word he’d been looking for. Jennifer Jacobs was professional in the extreme. And he had a sudden wild urge to find out what she was really like. To find out what made her laugh. How her eyes would look in passion—would they turn blue or grey? What did she look like when she’d just been thoroughly kissed?

‘Dr Martínez?’

‘My name is Ramón.’

Melted chocolate. Oh, no. Jennifer wished Meg hadn’t said that. Because she had the most graphic vision of Ramón feeding her rich, dark chocolate, piece by piece, teasing her by stroking it over her mouth and moving it out of reach so she had to reach up for it. And then he’d reach down to kiss her, and—

No way was she going to call him Ramón. It was too close, too intimate, too… ‘Dr Martínez,’ she repeated, her mouth dry.

He gave her a quizzical look, and she only hoped he couldn’t read her mind. How could she tell him off for unprofessional behaviour when her own thoughts were even less professional?

‘Sister Jacobs,’ he said softly, ‘we’ve got off to a bad start.’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll apologise to Nurse Bowers. But I’d like you to have a word with her, explain that if she doesn’t feel up to the job then she should take time off so the patients aren’t affected.’

‘I’ve already done that.’

‘I see.’ He folded his arms. ‘Then perhaps we can start again. I prefer to work with first names. You’re Jennifer, yes?’

She twisted the ring on her finger. Remember Andrew. Remember Andrew. ‘Yes.’ The word was virtually torn from her. She wanted to stay Sister Jacobs to this man. Aloof, remote, untouchable. Or even JJ, the nickname everyone else in the hospital used. But not Jennifer. It was too personal. Too dangerous.

‘And I’m Ramón.’ He stood up and gave her a formal bow. ‘I trust we shall work well together on my secondment to the Bradley Memorial Hospital.’

‘Brad’s.’

He frowned. ‘Brad’s?’

‘That’s what we call it. The hospital.’ Hell. Now she was babbling, and he’d think she was an idiot.

No. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. His opinion wasn’t important.

‘You cared for Stephen Knights the last time he was here?’

She blinked. The question had come out of left field. Or maybe she’d missed whatever he’d said before that. Ramón Martínez had thrown her completely off balance. Frighteningly so, because she’d sworn she’d never let anyone do that to her again. ‘Yes. I met his parents soon after Stephen was born. They came to see Dr Keller about the cheiloplasty—’ the operation to repair a cleft lip ‘—and he explained that Stephen also needed the operation to close the cleft palate, to help his speech and to separate the mouth and nasal cavities.’

‘And you tease all the parents the same way?’

Now she realised where he was coming from. He hadn’t liked the way she’d talked to the Knightses. ‘Each patient is different—and so are their parents. I teach my nurses to build relationships with the parents, to help them deal with what’s happening to their children. Some like to know every single thing that’s happening and to take on as much of the care for the child as they can, some like to joke to take their mind off their worries and some like to know the bare minimum and leave everything to the nurses. Mandy’s a joker and Paul likes to know exactly what to expect.’

He nodded gravely. ‘Now we understand each other.’

No. She didn’t understand him. She didn’t want to understand him. He was just a doctor, someone she had to work with for a little while. And that was the way he was going to stay.

‘I’ll apologise to Lizzy, Jennifer.’

‘Thank you.’ When he continued waiting, in silence, she knew what he was expecting. She forced the word out. ‘Ramón.’ It felt almost unbearably intimate, using his first name.