to have to let me treat you.’
Lily bit her lip. ‘I’m trying to shake you off, not form a permanent attachment to you.’
Carter swung his legs out of the truck and walked round, opening her door. ‘Oh, I think you’re already too late for that, missy.’
He pulled over a nearby wheelchair and helped her into it. ‘Do you want me to find you another doctor, Lily?’
She pretended to pause for a second, as if contemplating the idea, then shook her head. ‘There might be benefits to knowing the boss.’ She smiled. ‘You know, better menus, faster treatment.’ She lifted her hands again. ‘Something for a headache.’
Carter nodded and wheeled her inside, positioning her chair at the reception desk so she could give her details. He walked inside to the locker rooms and pulled on a set of scrubs and his coat, washing his hands at a nearby sink and squirting them with antibacterial scrub. By the time he came back out, his pager was sounding and Lily was being wheeled into a nearby cubicle by one of the nursing staff.
The nurse looked over, ‘Wow! That was fast. I just paged you.’
Carter smiled. ‘I’ve started picking up patients in the street and bringing them in with me.’ He nodded at Lily, before picking up her paperwork. ‘I’ve already examined Ms Grayson’s ankle, so I’m just going to send her through for an X-ray.’
‘It’s Saturday afternoon—there’s bound to be a queue,’ shot back the nurse.
‘That’s why I’m taking her myself,’ said Carter, as he caught the handles of her wheelchair and pushed her off in the opposite direction. ‘We’ll be back in ten minutes, Jan.’
The nurse shrugged her shoulders and wrote Lily’s name up on the nearby whiteboard. It was one less thing for her to do.
Ten minutes later Lily’s headache was getting worse. Carter had placed the film on the light box and the fracture was clear, even to a theatre nurse like her.
She groaned. ‘I was sure it was just sprained. This is a nightmare.’
Carter shot her a sympathetic look. ‘When was the last time you ate?’
‘What?’
‘Did you have lunch today at the airfield?’
Lily shook her head. ‘Last thing I had was breakfast this morning—around seven a.m. Why?’
‘Because I need to take you to Theatre.’ He pointed at the screen. ‘I’m hoping the bone will manipulate back into place, but if it doesn’t we might need to pin and plate it.’
Lily felt her stomach drop. She’d worked in Theatre long enough to know what was coming next. ‘And if you can manipulate it?’
‘Whether we manipulate back into place or pin and plate it, you’ll need a cast for around six weeks. First few weeks will have to be non-weight-bearing. If everything goes well, after that we might be able to give you a weight-bearing cast in three or four weeks.’
Lily groaned. ‘I can’t be off work for six weeks.’
‘Where do you work?’
Lily rolled her eyes. ‘Theatre, in the Western.’
Carter felt himself come to a complete halt. He had some really good friends who worked there. And who could probably give him a whole host of background information on Lily. ‘Have you always worked there?’ he queried. His mind was working overtime. When he’d tried to track down Lily, he’d known she was registered as a nurse but hadn’t realised she was so close. It could have saved him some precious time and expense.
Lily shook her head. ‘I’ve only worked there for the last six months. And you can imagine—as a theatre nurse, the last place on earth I want to be is inside a theatre.’
Carter shrugged, although he appreciated the sentiment. Hospitals weren’t his favourite places either. Working there was fine, but as a patient or a visitor? No, thanks.
‘It could be worse—you could be going to your own theatre. The place where you know which surgeons you’d never let operate on you, and which nurses you’d want nowhere near you in Recovery. At least here you don’t have any preconceived ideas.’
Lily grimaced. ‘I also don’t have any faith in the people who’ll be looking after me.’ She pointed upwards. ‘Let me see that X-ray for myself.’
Carter smiled. ‘What? You don’t trust me? You think I’ve just pencilled in a little fracture just for the sheer hell of it?’ He pulled the film from the light box and handed it down to her.
Lily frowned and held it up towards the nearby window. The fracture was definitely there. No matter which way she turned the X-ray. She sighed and handed the film back to Carter.
‘I’m not sure about you being my doctor.’
Carter looked at her steadily. ‘What, exactly, do you mean by that?’ Was she questioning his competence or his intentions? Either way, he didn’t intend to let her off with it.
There was a glint in her eye. ‘If you fix my ankle, then that’s all you do—fix my ankle. I don’t want to be held hostage here until I give in to your other demands—whatever they may be.’
Carter felt himself ready to explode, then he caught the smile stealing across her face. She was toying with him.
He sat down in the chair next to her and shot her a look of pure sincerity, ‘Are you questioning my integrity, Nurse Grayson? I am the only orthopod on call this weekend. I could happily leave your ankle until another doctor is on duty on Monday.’ His tone was teasing. A plan was beginning to formulate in his mind. Having Lily off her feet for six weeks might actually suit him, and his case, perfectly.
The last thing he wanted a judge to hear was that his egg donor was a crazy, fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants action junkie. Parachuting wasn’t her only unusual activity. The list the PI had given him had sent a shiver down his spine—free-climbing, bungee-jumping, waterskiing and cliff-diving—not least because he knew that at some point he’d tried most of those himself.
Under normal circumstances he might have relished the fact of meeting an adrenaline junkie like himself. But these weren’t normal circumstances. And an adrenaline junkie was the last thing he needed.
What he needed was a traditionalist.
And what he’d got was Lily Grayson. A headache waiting to happen.
Maybe he could keep her in a cast for even longer than six weeks. Long enough for her court appearances at his side, helping him build a case for his baby.
Lily gave him an impatient smile. ‘I don’t know what’s going on inside that head of yours, John Carter, but I don’t think I’m going to like it.’ She crossed her arms across her chest. ‘Not one bit.’
Carter stuck out his hand towards her. ‘At some point, Lily, we need to talk. But for now you’re my patient. Deal?’
She looked suspiciously at the extended hand in front of her. Large hands. Short, clean fingernails and an extremely steady hold.
She gave a quirky smile and stuck her tiny hand in his. ‘Deal, but thank goodness you’re not a gynaecologist.’
He looked bewildered. ‘What do you mean by that?’
She laughed. ‘If I have to explain that to you, cowboy, there’s something definitely wrong with this arrangement!’
He shook his head as the taunt finally registered in his brain. ‘I’m off to arrange Theatre for you.’ He looked at the clock. ‘Shouldn’t be more than an hour.’ He wagged a finger at her. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’
She raised her hands in exasperation. ‘As if I could!’ Then leaned back against the pillows. ‘And make it quick, John, because I’m starving!’
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