The Night Before Christmas

‘He’ll be on his way to Theatre, then?’

‘Yes. I might get a call. I said I wanted to have a look before any call was made about removing the transplant. Now …’ The surgeon’s smile signalled his change of focus to Lizzie. ‘You’ve obviously met Jack already.’

‘Mmm …’ Lizzie kept her gaze firmly on Dr Kingsley.

‘And he’s explained why he’s here?’

‘We were about to get to that, I think,’ Jack said.

Lizzie didn’t have to look to know that he was smiling. She could hear it in his voice. He was finding this amusing in some way? She could feel the skin on her forehead tightening as she frowned.

‘Let me do the honours, then,’ Dave said. ‘Mr Rousseau … Jack … is very well known for his expertise in abdominal transplant surgery, Lizzie. Westbridge Park has been trying to lure him away from his Paris base for some time but the best we’ve been able to manage is to persuade him to spend a month or so giving a series of lectures and working with other surgeons in some individualised training programmes. I’m one of them, I’m delighted to say.’

It would have been impolite not to shift her gaze to acknowledge the apparently famous expert. To nod, at least, as a sign of respect. Wiping the frown from her face was a bit more of an ask. Having their paths cross again like this still seemed a rather unfortunate twist of fate given her enthusiastic foray into the world of fantasy last night.

Her frown was noted.

‘I’m not really as young as I look,’ Jack Rousseau said kindly. ‘I’m thirty-six and I can assure you that I’ve had considerable experience in cases such as yours.’

Was he planning to take over her surgery? Misty’s surgery?

‘I’m more than happy with Dr Kingsley’s experience, thank you,’ she announced. ‘For myself and for my daughter.’

‘Heavens above, Lizzie,’ Dave put in. ‘I’m not about to hand you over. Though I have invited Jack to supervise and possibly assist in the surgery if that’s acceptable to you. Never hurts to have an extra set of eyes and hands, particularly if they happen to be regarded as the best in the world.’

The sound from the other man in the room was a protest of modesty. ‘The real reason I want to be there,’ Jack told her, ‘is that I’d like your permission to film the surgeries for use in my upcoming lectures.’

Lizzie stared at him. So he was thirty-six? Yes, she could see the fine lines that life had etched around his eyes and the first hint of the odd silver hair in those dark waves. He had the aura that only came with a combination of intelligence and power and she could imagine how skilled those hands must be. Oddly, the memory of those hands made a sudden heat bloom in her belly. It was disconcertingly difficult to drag her gaze away.

‘I can assure you that it won’t compromise your care in any way,’ Jack continued. ‘I have a highly skilled cameraman who’s worked with me in many major hospitals across Europe and in the States.’

Lizzie blinked at that. He must be famous and to be that famous at such a relatively young age must mean that he was seriously good at what he did.

And this was on top of being by far the most attractive man she’d ever been this close to. Certainly the first chance encounter she’d ever indulged in fantasising about.

That initial embarrassment had faded but did she really want him to be involved in any way with her medical procedures? Being in Theatre while she was lying there with her abdomen exposed?

The very idea made her squirm uncomfortably.

Jack could see that Lizzie wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea.

He sat back, toying with the stethoscope hanging around his neck, listening to Dave Kingsley explain how her case had been chosen out of all the ones they’d reviewed yesterday afternoon for just this purpose.

He could understand why she was uncomfortable with having to deal with an unexpected new development. This morning’s appointment was a crucial point in the journey she was on and lives were at stake on this journey. Specifically, the life of a six-year-old girl. What he could see in front of him was a mother who was prepared to do whatever it would take to keep her family safe.

She didn’t need a father for her children because she loved them so much she didn’t need anybody else. Because they were the best little girls in the whole world.

He’d been right, of course. Her eyes were as blue as her daughter’s.

‘I don’t care about myself,’ she was saying, ‘but I’m not having Misty turned into some kind of reality TV show.’

‘It’s nothing like that,’ Dave assured her. ‘She won’t be identified and it’s purely for the purpose of training other surgeons.’

Lizzie shot a suspicious glance in his own direction and Jack tried to look suitably serious. She was a fighter, this one. Determination like that, especially on behalf of someone else, was admirable. It was hard not to give her an encouraging smile.

She was also … absolument magnifique.

Quite possibly, the most attractive woman Jack had ever seen. So soft and feminine with those curves and the shining waves of her hair. It was her eyes that really caught him, though. They were utterly compelling. The urge to win her trust and thereby win permission to be part of the team that could remove some of the sadness from those eyes was so powerful it made him tighten his grip on the stethoscope he was fiddling with. The plastic cover on the disc popped off and provided him with a momentary and probably very timely distraction.

He shouldn’t be so aware of Lizzie like this. It was unprecedented. Unprofessional. Jack took a steadying breath as he clicked the clear plastic circle back into place. It was only then that he noticed Dave getting out of his chair. He was reading his pager.

‘Have a chat to Jack about it before you make a decision,’ he was saying to Lizzie. ‘We certainly won’t do anything you’re not happy with. Excuse me for a few minutes. They want a decision made about this kidney. It shouldn’t take long.’

And then he was gone and Jack was again alone with Lizzie. He smiled at her.

‘Do you have any questions you’d like to ask, Mrs Matthews?’

‘Yes, I do, Dr Rousseau.’

Jack raised his eyebrows to encourage her.

‘Dr Kingsley said you chose this case as being perfect for filming.’

‘This is true.’

‘He said you spent all afternoon reviewing every case available.’

‘Also true.’

Her gaze was accusing. ‘So how come I saw you in town, then? In Bennett’s?’

She remembered him. Jack tried to ignore the pulse of something pleasant that was warming his gut. ‘I was trying to fit in a bit of Christmas shopping.’ Any further personal-type conversation was entirely unnecessary but Jack found himself continuing nonetheless. ‘Unsuccessful, unfortunately. Partly due to those crowds but mainly thanks to my interlude of impersonating a nelf.’

Lizzie gave her head a small shake that send a wayward curl onto her cheek. She pushed it back. ‘An elf? Holly said something about elves when she saw you but I had no idea what she was talking about.’

She was staring at Jack, clearly puzzled. There was a question in her eyes, too. One that carried an expectation. He had something she wanted.

An explanation? He could give her that, no problem. He could give her a lot more than that, if she would let him. He could potentially make a real contribution to giving her what she wanted more than anything—her child’s health.

For some reason, this case was special. So special there was a distinct niggle at the back of his mind that it was unprofessional to want to be involved this much. Was it because the consultant surgeon he was working with felt the same way? Maybe the concern expressed when they had been discussing it yesterday had been contagious. Whatever the cause was, it had certainly never happened to Jack before and the pull was too powerful to resist. Maybe the ‘nelf’ was his ace card.

‘An elderly woman became unwell after climbing the stairs. I needed somewhere to look after her and one of the saleswomen showed us a private space that happened to be Santa’s rest area. Curtained off behind where he was sitting. Holly saw me through the gap in the curtain and wanted to know who I was and I said I was a helper.’

‘Oh-h …’ Lizzie was smiling now. Just a small smile but it was encouraging. ‘I suppose it was her that decided you were an elf.’

‘I got demerit points because I didn’t have a hat.’

The smile widened. Then it faded and Lizzie’s eyes widened. ‘You were right there?’