has arrived,’ his secretary told him quietly, and a quick glance at his watch reminded him that he should have been ready ten minutes ago to greet the new member of staff beginning her first day on the unit.
Exactly how many minutes had he been standing there wool-gathering when there was a whole department out there depending on his input?
‘Twenty-seven years on and I still can’t forget the chaos that tiny baby caused in our lives,’ he complained to the walls of his cramped office, then growled at the fact that Dr Danielle Dixon would definitely get the wrong impression if she heard him talking to himself.
He strode out into the corridor, trying to ignore the fact that he hadn’t a clue whether it was dread or excitement that was filling his stomach with butterflies.
‘I’m a consultant, for heaven’s sake,’ he muttered crossly as he strode out of the room. A relatively new one, admittedly, but as far as could tell, he was well respected by his immediate colleagues and his peers. He certainly didn’t need to worry that the newest member of the team was going to be able to find fault with anything that happened in his unit, but…
His thoughts stalled abruptly when he caught sight of the slender, almost child-like figure waiting uncertainly by the main reception desk at the entrance to the unit.
He couldn’t seem to breathe for a moment as he was struck by her ethereal beauty, then couldn’t help taking advantage of the fact she hadn’t seen him to look his fill.
She looked as if a puff of wind would blow her away, and that impression was only compounded by the soft cloud of silvery blonde curls and deep blue eyes that made her seem as if she only needed a pair of gossamer wings to complete the picture.
Utter nonsense, he scoffed silently. You only had to take a look at that determined little chin to realise that she had enough stubbornness for a whole herd of mules. That, after all, was what it would have needed to get her to this point in her life.
‘Ah, there you are, Mr Weatherby,’ the receptionist said, and the newest member of his team turned sharply towards him and almost felled him in his tracks with a single smile.
‘Josh!’ she exclaimed, hurrying towards him and clearly bubbling over with excitement.
‘Dr Dixon,’ he replied firmly, in spite of the fact that his voice felt almost rusty in his throat.
He saw the split second that she realised her faux pas and watched her deliberately replace her happy expression with a more serious one. ‘I’m sorry. I mean, good morning, Mr Weatherby.’
The attempt at keeping her expression straight failed in a second and he was almost tempted to laugh out loud. That face would never be able to hide what she was thinking and feeling, any more than those blue eyes could stop gleaming with the sheer joy of being alive. That was just one reason why he would always blame himself for…
‘I can’t believe it, can you?’ she demanded, stepping close enough to grab his arm with one slender hand and almost bouncing with excitement.
Even through the thick cotton of his white coat and the thinner sleeve of his shirt he could feel the warmth of her hand, but the sensation was far closer to the sharp hum of electricity as every hair stood to attention all over his body at the innocent contact.
‘I finally made it, Josh! I’m on the way to being a paediatrician. Isn’t it just the most—?’
‘Congratulations,’ he interrupted formally, conscious of watchful eyes and wary of gossip.
As he forced himself to step back, he told himself that it was not only on his own account but for the sake of the newest member of his team. She would hardly want to be the subject of hospital gossip on her first morning.
The increased distance between them meant that she had to release her hold on him but he still had to stifle a groan at his body’s instant response to the innocuous contact from her slender hand.
It was just so wrong.
This was Dani, the tiny baby he’d fallen in love with from the first moment he’d seen her in the incubator that day, and who’d been his baby sister in everything but blood and name.
And from this morning on, he reminded himself silently, she was just the latest doctor to spend six months in his department while she decided whether it was the area of medicine in which she wanted to specialise.
‘Now,’ he said briskly, ‘if you’d like to follow me, let’s see just how much you’ve learned.’
He turned and strode back towards the other end of the unit, cursing himself for his abruptness. Once again he’d wiped the happiness off her face as swiftly as if he’d slapped her, and that hadn’t been his intention. He just couldn’t cope with any physical contact between the two of them, no matter how innocuous; had deliberately avoided being anywhere in her vicinity ever since the disastrous events of her eighteenth birthday.
‘I don’t know how detailed a tour you were given around the unit when you came for your interview, but—’
‘Josh,’ she interrupted softly, her dark blue eyes looking almost bruised. ‘Is this going to be too difficult for you…having me working in your unit?’
He nearly snorted aloud at the innocence of her question.
Difficult? Try bloody impossible, especially when she stood there looking as if she was made of spun sugar and all he wanted to do was…
‘You got the job on merit,’ he pointed out gruffly. ‘Remember? I excused myself from your interview in case my presence biased the choice of candidate. Now all you have to do is prove that the committee made the right decision.’
‘But…’ She paused uncertainly.
He knew he hadn’t answered her question, but hoped that at least he’d been able to redirect her thoughts. Then he saw those slender shoulders straighten and that neat little chin inch up a little further, and knew she’d accepted the challenge.
He stifled a sigh, knowing that his life would have been very much easier if Dani had chosen a similar post in another hospital, but, without being big-headed about it, he knew that his unit was one of the best for the next stage of her training if she was still determined to specialise in paediatrics. That was especially true if she was leaning towards neonatal medicine.
‘This is the neonatal end of the unit,’ he said crisply, unable to prevent the touch of pride in his tone, ‘and it’s the most recent development within the department.’
‘Did it take you long to get approval?’ Those dark blue eyes were visually cataloguing the set-up, from the individual prettily-curtained bays—all occupied at the moment—to the mind-boggling array of monitoring equipment surrounding each clear acrylic isolette.
‘Long enough, but it was securing the level of financing that was the biggest headache. There’s just so much specialist equipment needed and the cost of each item is astronomical.’
‘That always seems so strange to me,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘When the cost of electronic items on the high street has come down so much, why should similar items be so inordinately expensive when they’re being sold to hospitals?’
He was unsurprised that she should have the same niggling suspicions that he’d been harbouring for years. It just didn’t seem credible that so many extra millions could be poured into a system and do so little good.
But that wasn’t the issue, here, he reminded himself sternly. He’d always known that she was ready to take issue with any injustice she uncovered, right from kindergarten age, and he was struck with a sudden desire to test the mettle of this new member of his team to see whether she had changed. This was no longer a matter of girls being prevented from joining the boys’ football team but the hidebound monolith of the NHS she was criticising. How would she defend her contentious words?
‘You make it sound as if hospital suppliers are profiteering at the government’s expense—or