The Surgeon's Perfect Match. Alison Roberts

papers that had to have had the date on them often enough. Perhaps he was closer to being middle-aged than he suspected and was developing a selective memory.

      Pulling on white rubber theatre boots, Ryan moved to the dispensing box on the wall of the changing room to pull out the disposable bootees to cover the boots’ soles. Then he plucked a hat and mask from adjoining boxes.

      He was feeling older today. Older and wiser.

      He’d gone about it all the wrong way and he’d tried so hard to do things just right, too. To keep it all on a kind of professional basis so that Holly would not be influenced by how strongly he felt about it all. Maybe he had tried too hard. He’d done such a good job of not taking advantage of his position of power and acting on any personal interest in Holly that she didn’t even consider him to be a friend.

      That had hurt.

      A lot.

      Ryan’s attention to scrubbing his hands in preparation for surgery was always thorough but it was more vigorous than usual this morning after his registrar joined him at the basins. He welcomed the sting of the bristles on the tender flesh between the base of his fingers.

      It was just as well Holly had no idea of the real reason for him making the offer of donating a kidney.

      That he was in love with her. That part of his soul was sharing her physical deterioration and would, if she died, be lost for ever.

      Boy, would that scare her off in a hurry! She didn’t want to be burdened by gratitude or guilt on a purely professional level. Imagine if she knew how he felt and took it the wrong way—thinking he might be trying to pull her into a closer relationship by offering such a valuable gift?

      She would be appalled. Hell, she didn’t even consider him to be a friend.

      But how could she not be aware of a bond that went so far past the normal interaction of a registrar and consultant? Had he been so good at hiding the gradual development of his feelings that Holly, and any onlookers, assumed they simply shared a passion for their work that made them inseparable during working hours?

      It was entirely possible, Ryan realised as their case for the morning got under way. Their twelve-year-old male patient had had a congenital lesion of aortic stenosis treated by a balloon valvuloplasty in infancy but residual stenosis and incompetence had led to an increasingly severe degree of symptoms which meant it was no longer advisable to wait until growth had completely stopped before replacing the valve. Besides, young Daniel was also very keen to play rugby and strenuous activity had so far been denied him because of the risk of sudden death. If all went well with the new valve he was going to receive today, his life would change considerably for the better.

      It was a technically challenging procedure due to the congenital malformation of the valve but Ryan was more than happy to keep up a running commentary and answer Holly’s eager queries.

      ‘We make the transverse aortotomy about fifteen millimetres above the level of the right coronary artery. We don’t want to be any lower because that can jeopardise the artery and create problems in seating the valve.’

      ‘What happens if you go higher?’

      ‘Not much. It’s easy to angle down and any lip can be retracted.’

      That was typical of Holly. She had always demonstrated the ability to determine all possible alternatives to any course of action and weigh up the potential consequences. She was sharp enough to do it almost instantly and it was a skill that would stand her in very good stead when she got to be a consultant surgeon herself.

      If she got to be a consultant surgeon.

      Given a technical problem, Ryan was confident that Holly could make a correct choice of an appropriate course of action. He spared a very fleeting moment of concentration to wonder why she couldn’t apply the same skill to a personal arena.

      Maybe she would. Maybe Holly just needed some time to get used to the idea and if he didn’t push her she would be able to view it as an independent choice and find a way to get past what she saw as unacceptable potential consequences.

      All he could do was wait. And hope. And help her to do what she wanted to do with her life as far as he was able or allowed to help.

      ‘You did such a good job on that patch yesterday, Holly,’ he said, when the more technical aspects of preparation had been completed. ‘How about tackling part of this prosthetic valve insertion?’

      She was feeling a lot better today. The sparkle Ryan detected in the dark eyes that flashed up to meet his held no hint of any doubt in her own ability. Or any desire not to be given that level of responsibility. Holly was eager to spread her wings again and Ryan only too happy to support her.

      As he always would be, given the chance.

      Never mind anything too personal. As Ryan guided Holly through what was a new procedure for her, he was very aware of how much less satisfying his job would be without Holly to share his fascination in operating on what was, for them both, at the top of the list of the vital organs humans possessed.

      There had to be a way to secure a future for Holly because Ryan didn’t want to even consider the alternative.

      And he wouldn’t. Not yet.