Falling For Her Fake Fiancé

Kelli’s head shot up. Despair and puzzlement shone out of her cobalt eyes. A faint pink blush stained her cheeks. ‘Just as well I’ve been away then, isn’t it?’

Mac forced his mouth shut and made for the curtain again, his stomach in a knot. He didn’t trust himself not to come out with something equally stupid as that last little nugget. Before she’d taken the job in Fiji he’d only ever seen her as her shift was finishing and his beginning. Yes, and he’d always noticed her. Now he’d gone and told her much the same. Didn’t make sense. It wasn’t as though he was interested in her outside work.

Then why had he taken her to that Sydney night club after Conor and Tamara’s wedding? How could he not, when she’d been beautiful in her emerald-coloured fitted gown and those shoes that weren’t made for walking? Yet Kelli had walked the length of the pier and back in them. She had to be some kind of acrobat to be able to do that without falling off the heels and breaking her long neck. A delectable, beautiful, annoying acrobat whom he’d kissed—a lot. And ever since then, he’d not been able to forget any moment of that night. Was that why he’d agreed to go to this next wedding with her? Because after the last ceremony they’d made out together, and might repeat the scenario? He needed his head read—by an expert in craziness.

Behind the curtain he heard Beau ask in a wavering voice, ‘Can I phone my mum?’

‘Of course,’ Kelli answered. ‘Here’s your daypack. Will your phone be in there somewhere?’

‘I hope so.’ The guy suddenly sounded much younger and vulnerable.

‘I’ll leave you alone to call her, but I won’t go far in case you’re worried something might happen. Want a coffee?’

Mac made a beeline for Resus and the patient being wheeled through from the ambulance. Having Kelli find him hanging around outside the cubicle was not an option. He might feel like a seventeen-year-old in lust but for Kelli to recognise that would blow the lid on any hope of working together with some semblance of normality. As for what spending the weekend in close proximity of each other would do to him, he couldn’t begin to imagine.

The paramedic greeted him with, ‘Mac, this is George Falkiner, fifty-one, a digger driver. The ground gave way under his three-ton machine and he was tossed out and then hit by the bucket. He’s stat one, hasn’t regained consciousness in the time we’ve been with him. Multiple fractures to both arms and the right leg. Suspected internal injuries around the spleen and liver.’

‘I’m surprised he’s still breathing. Let’s get him onto a bed and hooked up to our gear. On the count, everyone.’ Their patient was quickly transferred from the stretcher to the bed, and Mac began an examination. ‘Stephanie, I need blood bank on the line yesterday.’ The guy was losing blood from a torn artery in his groin faster than water leaving a bath. Those internal injuries would be bleeding too. ‘Get some group O sent down and a tech to take a crossmatch sample for further transfusions.’

‘Onto it.’

‘Then call Radiology.’ Mac had started at the man’s skull, gently probing for crushed bones and bleeds. He did not like the guy’s chances, but that wouldn’t stop him doing everything within his power to save him. Including putting all thoughts of Kelli aside.

Around him nurses and another doctor worked quietly and efficiently stemming blood flows, monitoring heart rate and blood pressure, examining limbs and probing for other injuries. A lab tech arrived with blood and a test kit to take a sample for blood grouping. George Falkiner had a damned good team on his side.

The cardiac monitor emitted the flat sound of no heartbeat. Mac snatched up the paddles. ‘Stand back.’ With a check that everyone had done as ordered he applied the electric jolt needed to restart the man’s heart. It worked. ‘Now there’s a wonder. He’s lost so much blood I didn’t expect to bring him back.’ But for how long? Sometimes things worked right, and sometimes: well, Mac wasn’t going there. His patient didn’t need the negative vibes. He’d managed to score enough on his own.

Mac was completely unaware of anything going on outside Resus. His focus was entirely on his patient, and it wasn’t until they’d finally stopped the bleeding except for some internal strife, that he began to think there was a chance this man might make it. Radiology took their pictures, Theatre was on standby, and a general surgeon and orthopaedic surgeon were up to speed on what was required for their patient.

When George was finally wheeled away to Theatre Mac straightened his aching back and rolled his neck to loosen the muscles that were sporadically cramping. ‘Glad that’s over.’

‘Grab a break while you can.’ Michael spoke from the desk. ‘The numbers are starting to crank up out in the waiting room but nothing urgent. I’ll go after you get back.’

‘Think I will.’ A cold drink and something to eat would do wonders for the weariness gripping him now that the urgency of that case had gone. Tossing his scrubs into the laundry bin and pulling on clean ones, he headed for his office and the snack he’d put together earlier at home.

Once at his office desk he decided to stay put and do a bit of paperwork while he chewed on sandwiches. Even signing off a single document was one less to worry about. Not mentioning that in this airless pokey room he was safe from Kelli scent, Kelli comments, and definitely the wariness in those blue eyes that had appeared from the moment he’d agreed to be her partner this coming weekend.

Knock, knock. A head popped around his door. Kelli. Of course. So much for a few minutes’ escape.

‘Hi, everything okay?’

She stayed in the doorway. ‘Just giving you the heads up. A nine-year-old girl fell ten metres off the family deck onto a fence post. Stat one. The chopper’s bringing her in from Waitakere, ETA approximately ten minutes.’

Mac winced. ‘Nine, eh? That’s a small body to land on a solid object from that high.’

‘The mother’s with her.’ Kelli stared at her hands. ‘A parent’s nightmare really.’

‘How do parents cope with not always being able to keep their kids safe? It would drive me crazy.’ Keeping those he loved or cared about safe was as ingrained as taking a shower every day. Not that he always did well at saving people. He looked at his bare ring finger as if he needed reminding.

‘I guess they can only set the boundaries, keep a vigilant eye out, and cross their fingers.’

That didn’t stop bad things happening. He’d done all of that and yet his wife had died. In bed. Beside him. While he slept. He was a doctor, and that had meant absolutely nothing when he was most needed. He should’ve sensed something was wrong with Cherie even in his comatose state brought on by exhaustion after too many sixteen-hour shifts in ED. But he hadn’t. The aneurysm had been a silent killer, stealing the love of his life and their unborn infant.

Pushing down on the flare of pain and distress, he growled, ‘Let me know when the helicopter’s landed.’

‘Yes, Doctor.’ The door closed with a small bang.

Fair cop. It wasn’t Kelli’s fault he was flawed, hadn’t been able to save Cherie. No, that was his to own. But it didn’t give him licence to be surly with Kelli. Yet how to keep her away? How to stop the fissures she was opening within him from spreading throughout his soul just by being around her? She had hang-ups aplenty. Was always trying to appease people and keep the department happy and relaxed—except when it came to him. Then she could be lippy as all hell. Lippy. Lips. Oh, hell.

Those lips, that mouth. Soft while demanding, hot and giving, made to bring a man to his knees. How he’d walked away that night was beyond him. Showed the strength of his fear of opening up to another woman, because, as far as he could work out, that was the only reason he’d hightailed it away from her.

Hopefully his abrupt dismissal might keep her distant for the rest of the shift. By tomorrow he’d be over whatever was tying him in knots every time Kelli came near, and remember only that she was an exceptional nurse who always went the extra distance for her patients.

An attractive nurse with a body that filled scrubs in a tantalising way they weren’t designed for.

A woman with shiny dark blonde hair piled on top of her head and kept in place with carefully positioned decorative combs. And when those combs came out, the thick locks had been satin in his fingers.

He wouldn’t think of the smile that warmed him right down to his toes, and the laugh that lodged in his chest when he wasn’t on guard.

All of that was before Sydney, buster. Not only since then.

Mac threw his pen at the far wall. Ping. Didn’t underline his feelings. The water bottle followed. Bigger ping. Just as well he’d already drunk the contents.

Not feeling any better here. Cherie had been the love of his life. Had been? Still was. There wasn’t room for another one. He’d never recover if something went wrong a second time. He was still recovering from losing Cherie.

Where was that chopper?

Ten minutes could whizz past in seconds, or it could drag out into an hour. Today was the drawn-out version. Mac chewed and chewed on his tasteless sandwich: cold beef with zucchini pickle care of his mother. She sent him a package about once a month, filled with jars of homemade jams and pickles, a fruit cake, and sometimes in winter homemade chocolates, which he gave to the kid next door. Comfort food that he enjoyed but wouldn’t admit to in case it made him look like a spoiled brat.

His mother had been the cushion in his life growing up with a tyrannical father who believed his way was the only way for just about everything. Make that absolutely everything. So the packages were warmly accepted as a reminder of his mother’s unconditional love and how not everyone was hard on others. They’d stopped when Mac married, but about a month after Cherie died there’d been one on the doorstep when he’d got home from work, and they hadn’t stopped since.

Stephanie waltzed through the door without any preamble. ‘Our girl’s being brought down from the landing pad now.’

Instantly on his feet, Mac tossed the remainder of his snack in the bin. ‘Let’s go.’

‘If it’s okay, I’ve put Kelli on this one. She’s good with the littlies.’

So were other nurses, and they weren’t distracting. But, ‘Why wouldn’t it be all right?’

Stephanie watched him, her head on a slight angle. ‘I think you can probably answer that better than me, but it seems she’s got you rattled.’

Fortunately Stephanie headed out of the room so he didn’t have to come up with some unlikely reply, denial being at the top of the list. And if he denied what she was implying, he’d be lying.

His gut had been in turmoil from the moment he’d seen Kelli on the sidewalk outside the hospital on the phone to Tamara, and didn’t feel as if it intended settling down any time soon.

Time to focus on the job, starting with the young girl now arriving in ED.

* * *