falling while I'm trying to get on with other things.
She printed the date of birth on the red-labelled sterile specimen container. Checked with the case notes and raised an eyebrow. Thirty-eight and already at the top of his profession. Tom Galvan must be super-clever.
Next she filled in details of all drugs, treatments and sterile disposables used that morning. Everything, down to the last pre-injection Medi-Swab, had to be accounted for. Not that there'd be a bill at the end of the day for Crisp's most cherished patient.
As she worked she kept a discreet eye on the injured surgeon's averted head, studying his brooding profile. As a medical student Tom must have been startlingly good-looking. Now, if anything, he looked older than thirty-eight, with the worldliness of the highly experienced man. Add in the high-octane intelligence and that aura of power, hallmark of the highly-qualified neuro-surgeon - and what had you got? … a grumpy panther, caged in a Maynard private bed!
She chewed the end of her pen meditatively. Looked at what she had written – did a double-take – forgot she was supposed to be Nurse Dragon and laughed out loud.
'What's the matter with you?' growled Tom.
'You wouldn't want to know.'
'Yes I would.'
'I really don't think so!'
'Try me.'
'I've just written Cage 27 instead of Room 27. 'What was I thinking of?' 'Very amusing,' he said sourly. 'And I suppose I'm the dangerously wounded male lion?'
'More of a bad-tempered panther,' she teased.
'So,' said Tom with ominous silkiness, 'that would make you the panther-tamer.' His eyes narrowed. He was plotting a way to get his own back.
Kate could see it. Just let him try …
Just then, the door opened and in breezed Professor Davy followed by Jonathan Reeves, the senior orthopaedic consultant, Sister Carter on their heels. Kate wiped the smirk off her face and assumed an air of sober efficiency.
'Morning, Tom. Look at you now, all kempt and cared for. It's working already, that TLC we wrote you up for. Great stuff.' He beamed at the two of them. 'Tender Loving Care,' he declaimed. 'Never fails to do the trick, eh Sister? We knew you were the lass for the job, didn't we now. First class work, Kate.'
Kate had forgotten she was supposed to be Gertie. Her patient was glowering at her across his bed and she couldn't think why, considering he'd just heard the Professor's encouraging words.
To annoy her, Tom deliberately reached up with his good hand and messed up his hair. Tender loving care indeed! I'm shut in here with a woman intent on torture. Who's pretending to be someone she isn't! Just you wait till they've gone, Nurse Gertie.
'Behaving himself is he, nurse?' Jonathan Reeves came round to the other side of the bed and turned back the sheets.
'No,' exclaimed Kate, meeting Tom's stare eyeball to eyeball. 'Mr Galvan's the most restless, ungrateful, disobedient patient ever.'
'Ha ha!' they all said, thinking this was just what Tom needed: a nurse with a good sense of humour cheering him up all day.
'Cared for by the very nurse who saved you from haemorrhaging to death!' exclaimed the dapper Mr Reeves. 'It's not easy to put gratitude into words, is it Tom, but you'll have done your best.'
Jonathan Reeves was in his late forties and famous for his sharp taste in suits. He was privately thinking that he'd never seen such a spectacular waistline on a nurse: surely eighteen inches went out with the Victorians? No wonder Tom was perking up at last, with that hourglass shape flittering round him all day.
Mortified by James's comment, Kate had reverted to her everyday self, ditched the glasses and tightened her navy belt with its hospital badge clasp—not that Tom Galvan seemed to have noticed the improvement.
She bent over the dressings trolley and tidied it all over again. Anything to avoid Tom's eye. Especially as it was gross exaggeration to imply she'd saved the neuro-surgeon's life!
Wishing Sister would dismiss her, she handed
She printed the date of birth on the red-labelled sterile specimen container. Checked with the case notes and raised an eyebrow. Thirty-eight and already at the top of his profession. Tom Galvan must be super-clever.
Next she filled in details of all drugs, treatments and sterile disposables used that morning. Everything, down to the last pre-injection Medi-Swab, had to be accounted for. Not that there'd be a bill at the end of the day for Crisp's most cherished patient.
As she worked she kept a discreet eye on the injured surgeon's averted head, studying his brooding profile. As a medical student Tom must have been startlingly good-looking. Now, if anything, he looked older than thirty-eight, with the worldliness of the highly experienced man. Add in the high-octane intelligence and that aura of power, hallmark of the highly-qualified neuro-surgeon - and what had you got? … a grumpy panther, caged in a Maynard private bed!
She chewed the end of her pen meditatively. Looked at what she had written – did a double-take – forgot she was supposed to be Nurse Dragon and laughed out loud.
'What's the matter with you?' growled Tom.
'You wouldn't want to know.'
'Yes I would.'
'I really don't think so!'
'Try me.'
'I've just written Cage 27 instead of Room 27. 'What was I thinking of?' 'Very amusing,' he said sourly. 'And I suppose I'm the dangerously wounded male lion?'
'More of a bad-tempered panther,' she teased.
'So,' said Tom with ominous silkiness, 'that would make you the panther-tamer.' His eyes narrowed. He was plotting a way to get his own back.
Kate could see it. Just let him try …
Just then, the door opened and in breezed Professor Davy followed by Jonathan Reeves, the senior orthopaedic consultant, Sister Carter on their heels. Kate wiped the smirk off her face and assumed an air of sober efficiency.
'Morning, Tom. Look at you now, all kempt and cared for. It's working already, that TLC we wrote you up for. Great stuff.' He beamed at the two of them. 'Tender Loving Care,' he declaimed. 'Never fails to do the trick, eh Sister? We knew you were the lass for the job, didn't we now. First class work, Kate.'
Kate had forgotten she was supposed to be Gertie. Her patient was glowering at her across his bed and she couldn't think why, considering he'd just heard the Professor's encouraging words.
To annoy her, Tom deliberately reached up with his good hand and messed up his hair. Tender loving care indeed! I'm shut in here with a woman intent on torture. Who's pretending to be someone she isn't! Just you wait till they've gone, Nurse Gertie.
'Behaving himself is he, nurse?' Jonathan Reeves came round to the other side of the bed and turned back the sheets.
'No,' exclaimed Kate, meeting Tom's stare eyeball to eyeball. 'Mr Galvan's the most restless, ungrateful, disobedient patient ever.'
'Ha ha!' they all said, thinking this was just what Tom needed: a nurse with a good sense of humour cheering him up all day.
'Cared for by the very nurse who saved you from haemorrhaging to death!' exclaimed the dapper Mr Reeves. 'It's not easy to put gratitude into words, is it Tom, but you'll have done your best.'
Jonathan Reeves was in his late forties and famous for his sharp taste in suits. He was privately thinking that he'd never seen such a spectacular waistline on a nurse: surely eighteen inches went out with the Victorians? No wonder Tom was perking up at last, with that hourglass shape flittering round him all day.
Mortified by James's comment, Kate had reverted to her everyday self, ditched the glasses and tightened her navy belt with its hospital badge clasp—not that Tom Galvan seemed to have noticed the improvement.
She bent over the dressings trolley and tidied it all over again. Anything to avoid Tom's eye. Especially as it was gross exaggeration to imply she'd saved the neuro-surgeon's life!
Wishing Sister would dismiss her, she handed
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