have any problem with her diagnosis, just her modus operandi. ‘The pain he was presented with last month has intensified.’
Poppy schooled her face not to show the sweet victory that spun inside her. ‘So we’re in agreement. He’s been fasting due to his nausea so Jen can prep him for Theatre and—’
‘I said I agreed with your diagnosis.’ He raised one brow. ‘That doesn’t translate into agreeing with your treatment plan.’
The coolness of his tone didn’t come close to soothing the hot and prickly frustration that bristled inside her, and she silently cursed William for sending her to the middle of nowhere where men ruled and women had no choice but to follow. ‘So you’re going to sit on it until his appendix bursts and we’re faced with dealing with peritonitis?’
Emotionless molasses-coloured eyes bored into her. ‘Not at all. He requires surgery and he’ll have it—tomorrow.’
So this is a power play: my turf versus your turf. ‘But he could deteriorate overnight and we’d have to come in anyway. Tomorrow is an unknown quantity, whereas right now it’s quiet, we’re both here, so why wait?’
‘Technically you don’t even start work until 8:00 a.m. tomorrow.’ ‘That’s semantics.’
He lowered his gaze and stared at her bright red suitcase stowed by the desk and then he moved the stare to her. ‘Is it? It’s Sunday and I would have thought seeing as you’ve only just arrived, you’d want to get settled in the house, hit the supermarket and fill your fridge.’
Something about his unflinching gaze made her feel like he saw not just the persona she showed the world but way beyond it and down deep into the depths she hadn’t allowed anyone to enter since Steven.
But he really didn’t want to—
I am so not doing this now!
She shut the voice up, hating that her hand had crept to the pendant that sat just below her throat. She forced her arm back by her side and her voice came out stiff and authoritative. ‘You don’t have to concern yourself with my domestic arrangements.’
‘Very true.’ He radiated a controlled aura that was an odd mix of dark and light, although the dark dominated. ‘But I do concern myself with my staff’s. They have lives outside work, Poppy.’ His expression intimated that he thought perhaps she didn’t. ‘This is not an emergency and therefore we are not interrupting their family time, their fishing and sailing time, and, for some, their afternoon naps.’
‘Afternoon naps?’ Her voice rose in disbelief as her brain tried unsuccessfully to wrap itself around such a foreign concept. ‘You’re joking.’
Matt gave a snort that sounded like a rusty laugh as his face creased stiffly into lines that bracketed his mouth and for a moment his lips broke their tight line. A streak of something close to warmth followed, giving life and character to his face, which up until this point had been almost a caricature of unmarred features.
Her gut lurched as a flicker of delicious shimmers moved through her and she wished he’d stop. Perfection she could resist. Deep life lines around those dark and empty eyes, not so much.
His expression neutralised as the shadows returned. ‘Life is slower here and, as you’ll discover, the humidity at this time of year really saps your energy.’
She thought of the chief of surgery job back in Perth and went back into battle. She knew this game and she didn’t plan to give an inch. ‘Nothing saps my energy. I’m here to work, not to relax.’ She reached for her briefcase and pulled out a folder. ‘In regard to staff, I have a surgical budget and my own staffing ratios, and it’s my call when to operate, not yours.’
‘It is, and come tomorrow, your first official day, when David, the anaesthetic registrar, is back on duty, you can order him about to your heart’s content. Today, as the ED doctor and the back-up anaesthetist, it’s my call. We’re not operating on Sam just so you can rush in, set a precedent and get some runs on the board.’
‘This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with patient care.’ She protested too quickly as his words hit far too close to home. Sam’s case technically wasn’t an emergency but it wasn’t strictly elective surgery either. She hated that he’d guessed at her need to operate so she could stake her claim as the incumbent surgeon, competent and in charge.
He slid to his feet, the movement as graceful as a gazelle’s but with the calculation of a panther. Everything about him screamed, I don’t believe you.
‘Should Sam’s condition change, I’ll call you straight away. Meanwhile, go stock your fridge and turn on the air-conditioning so you can sleep tonight.’
Her body vibrated with rage. ‘Don’t patronise me.’
Genuine surprise raced across his face and he gave a sigh filled with fatigue. ‘I’m not. I’m actually trying to help. Your life here will be a lot easier if you don’t get the staff off-side before you’ve officially started.’
She wanted to stay furious with him, she wanted to cast him in the role of obstructive male, but his gaze wasn’t combative and amid the darkness that hovered around him, she detected a sliver of goodwill. It totally confused her.
‘I see. Well, we may not agree about Sam but I take on board what you’re saying.’ She made herself say, ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’ His fingers pushed through his straight hair, the strands sliding over them like water on rocks.
With a shock she caught the glint of gold on his ring finger. How had she missed that? But it didn’t matter how or why—what was important was now she knew. Married men didn’t interest her.
It’s been a long time since an unmarried one interested you.
Get off my case!
She had a gut feeling that she and Matt Albright would probably spend the next ninety days disagreeing but now it would be without fear of those strange and unwanted shimmers. Working with Matt would be uncomplicated and all about the job, and that was what she did best.
She pulled out a business card and held it towards him.
‘This is my mobile number should Sam deteriorate, and meanwhile I’ll let you get back to your Sunday afternoon and your family.’
The goodwill vanished from his eyes as his lean body ceased all movement, and an eerie stillness hovered around him.
So much for her attempt at being polite. She couldn’t work him out.
The card hung between them for a moment and then he slowly raised his arm and plucked it from her fingers. ‘Right. See you around.’
‘I guess you will.’ What else was there to say?
‘Wait!’ Jen hurried over as two bloodied men supported and half dragged another man into the de partment.
‘What happened?’ Matt hauled his way back from the black despair Poppy’s innocent comment had plunged him into, hating that it had, and was glad to be able to focus on the patient.
‘Patient involved in a brawl, suspected head injury and possible fractures.’
He grabbed a gown and stifled a groan. In years gone by, drunken brawls had been exclusively Saturday night’s domain but the mining boom had brought more people into the town and some of them had more money than sense. This patient could have anything from a broken toe to a subdural haematoma, with a million possibilities in between.
He threw Poppy a gown. ‘I think you just got a reprieve from filling your fridge but just so we’re clear, this is my emergency and you’re assisting.’
‘Oh, absolutely.’ But deep sapphire blue shards scudded across her enormous baby-blue eyes, making a mockery of her supposed compliance. ‘It’s your emergency right up to