The Legendary Playboy Surgeon

So why hadn’t he been able to expunge the image of Kate Graham from his mind over the last few days?

Because he felt bad, that’s why. It had been a mean thing to say, telling her that she needed to get a life. Adding that her white coat looked ridiculous had been nothing more than childish. And also mean. Connor was not a mean person. The only justification for the way he’d attacked her was that he had been in the middle of a fairly devastating emotional experience.

Connor scrubbed harder at his hands with the soap-impregnated brush. Under his nails. Between his fingers. Hard enough to hurt.

He’d been to young Liam’s funeral only yesterday and even during the service he’d been thinking about Kate. A distraction, maybe, from memories that had the potential to wreak havoc in his life even now.

He’d thought about the way her face had changed when she’d realised what had actually been going on. The reason he’d done something as outrageous as taking a huge, dirty motorbike into a children’s ward. She’d gone so pale. Been so lost for words and … when he’d thought about it later there’d been something in her eyes that had suggested she was all too familiar with the kind of pain life could dish out sometimes.

How did she know that? What had happened to her?

Something big enough to make her the way she was? As if she didn’t want to connect with people. Almost as though she was afraid of the good things life could offer.

Why?

It wasn’t as if she was a wimp. It took guts to see a medical degree through. And brain power. And … she wasn’t that bad looking. If she undid those buttons and took off those glasses and let her hair do something remotely natural, she could be a different person.

Connor found himself grinning as he angled his reddened but virtually sterile hands under the stream of warm water that he activated with the foot control. He was fantasising about a scene where Kate was the cliché librarian or secretary who loosens her clothing, sheds the spectacles and then shakes out a magnificent mane of hair to transform from a prude into a total vamp for some bemused but appreciative guy.

Like him.

The grin became a grimace. What was he thinking?

Just as well the cute new nurse was there to tie the strings of his gown. She could line up with at least half a dozen of his previous girlfriends and be like a pea in a pod. Great looking and great fun to be with, at least until they got ideas about it meaning more than it did.

This afternoon’s case was a long and complicated one. A pillion passenger on his big brother’s bike, fourteen-year-old Dillon had such badly broken bones in both his legs and one arm it was going to be a considerable challenge to restore normal function for the teenager. The bones needed precise alignment, using external fixation, and there were tendons and ligaments to patch together. There were also quite long periods when Connor had to step back to allow other specialist surgeons to work their magic with the nerves and blood vessels that needed major repair.

Just the kind of opportunity he knew how to take advantage of. The new nurse was being used as a gofer as she got used to her new working environment and there were times when she wasn’t required to fetch or carry anything so she was standing around watching as well.

Connor stood beside her.

‘Hey … You’re a new face.’

A bit of a new face anyway but Connor had seen her disappearing into the female changing room so he’d seen the long blonde hair that was now covered by a disposable hat. The lower half of her face was covered by a mask now too but he’d already seen her smiling at the nursing staff she’d arrived with. Having only her eyes visible made them even more appealing. Very blue they were. Reminded him of … hell, any number of women probably.

‘I’m Bella,’ she whispered. ‘This is my third day at St Pat’s.’

‘Connor,’ he murmured back. ‘Delighted to meet you, Bella.’

Her eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘I’ve heard about you.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘All good things, I hope.’

‘Depends on your definition of “good”.’ Bella giggled and earned a disapproving glance from a senior nurse.

The anaesthetist glanced up with a resigned sigh. ‘Give it a rest, Matthews. You’re not actually obliged to pick up every new nurse, you know.’

‘Hey … I’m just trying to make Bella here feel welcome.’

‘Of course you are,’ another nurse said. A ripple of laughter went through the theatre staff.

Connor grinned along with them but made a mental note to point out to his anaesthetist colleague, Mike, that the pot shouldn’t be calling the kettle too black. Maybe they’d be able to get a game of squash in this evening and they could discuss it then.

He didn’t get another chance to try and chat Bella up. Partly because he was too busy with his work but also because she got sent out of Theatre. Maybe it wasn’t really her fault that the accident had happened. Technicians were moving some heavy gear and she got in the way somehow and was almost knocked off her feet. Fortunately, she managed not to fall into the sterile field but nobody was thrilled by the explosive disruption of the heavy metal object she’d been carrying hitting the floor. Bella didn’t look too thrilled either, because the collection of used surgical instruments destined for the steriliser had landed on her foot and she was limping quite badly as she slunk out.

She wasn’t limping when he spotted her later, having finally escaped the intense surgical session. She was sitting on a couch near a set of lifts, her shoe off, rubbing at her foot.

‘Broken bone?’ Connor suggested hopefully. ‘Do you need the services of an orthopaedic surgeon perhaps?’

Bella scowled at him. ‘You don’t need to rub it in. I already feel like a complete klutz. It’s just a bruise.’ She glanced at her mobile phone as a text-message alert sounded. ‘Darn … I was hoping to get a ride home but it looks like I’ll have to find a bus.’

It was obviously painful to try and put her foot into her shoe. And no wonder, the high heels weren’t exactly practical.

Connor couldn’t resist a maiden in distress. ‘Don’t force it,’ he advised. ‘Leave it off and get some ice on your foot when you get home.’

‘That’ll be a good look, running for the bus in bare feet.’

‘You could call a taxi.’ Connor wasn’t going to leap in to the rescue if it wasn’t welcome.

Bella shook her head firmly. ‘No way. I’m saving up to head overseas. Every penny counts.’

‘In that case, please let me offer to be of service with no scalpel in sight. I have an extra helmet in my locker.’

‘Helmet?’ Bella’s eyes brightened. ‘You ride a bike?’

‘Sure do.’

Her glance was curious. ‘You’re an orthopaedic surgeon and you just spent hours putting a teenager back together after he fell off a motorbike. Are you nuts?’

‘Probably. Want a ride home?’

Bella grinned. ‘Sure.’

It was all a bit too easy, Connor decided, following Bella’s directions to one of the nicer city suburbs. He should be delighted. Here he was, riding his bike with the arms of a beautiful girl wrapped around his waist. A perfect girl, given her liking for motorbikes and the willingness to take a bit of a risk. Taking her home where she’d probably ask him in for a coffee or something and he could offer to check out her foot and one thing would inevitably lead to another and …

There was no challenge here.

The sacrilegious thought that the predictability could be boring was unexpected. Disturbing, even.

So disturbing that Connor suppressed his intention to decline the offer to go inside the rather lovely old house he took her to. He must be tired or something, he decided. Maybe the loss of one of his young patients had affected him more than he’d realised. If an evening with Bella didn’t perk him up, he’d know there was something seriously amiss.

‘Nice place,’ he said, pulling off his helmet.

‘It belongs to my aunt,’ Bella told him. ‘I’m just living with her while I’m working at St Pat’s. She works there, too. Come on in. You probably know each other already.’

It was quite possible. Connor was friendly with a lot of the older members of the nursing staff. It was a bonus that Bella wasn’t living with a bunch of nurses close to her own age. Even with his current ambivalence about taking this acquaintance any further, it would be rather awkward if an old girlfriend was lurking.

He had time to look around as Bella hobbled up the hallway ahead of him. The house was even nicer on the inside. The aunt clearly had good taste. She could cook, too, judging by the very appetising aroma that was coming from the area Bella veered into at the end of the hallway.