‘To be honest, I thought you handled him very well—and you stuck to your guns. It’s easy to be swayed by people like that and it’s rarely for the good.’
Wow, praise from him now? That was surprising. He had a reputation for being a smooth lover and a competent and exacting doctor, leaving his patients satisfied and women always wanting more. Which he steadfastly refused to give.
‘If you can handle a skin graft as confidently as you did that aide, then you’ll go far.’
The laugh slipped easily from her throat. ‘You know, really I just wanted to tell him where to get off.’
‘Yes. Me too.’ He winked, visibly relaxing. ‘But A—you didn’t. And B—you reassured him of your competence and professionalism by not caving in to his demands.’
‘I tried my best.’
‘Good. I imagine you’ve more than earned his respect. You need to gain that too when dealing with the Sheikh and the press, which is a necessary role with such a high-profile case. We’re a small team with a big responsibility. Are you up to it?’
‘Yes. Absolutely.’
‘I would suggest you soften a little for the Sheikha, though. Diva or not, she’s had a very rough time, she’s used to having things her way, and this accident will have knocked her sideways.’ Something passed behind those chocolate-coloured eyes and his sharp edges melted away a little. ‘Her life has changed forever. She’s going to be frightened and in pain and will need a lot of help and reassurance. Not just today but ongoing. Gently.’ He eyed her suspiciously. ‘You can do gently?’
‘Of course. Of course.’ Hell, she could do roll over and beg if it meant she got to work with someone so talented. Relief flooded through her and she tried to show him her best gentle smile. ‘So I’m in, then?’
‘For now. It seems I have no choice—and we have to attend to Safia. I’ll review your place in my team later.’
‘I come highly recommended. Phone the Croftwood and check. I can assure you, you won’t be disappointed.’
‘No … I doubt that very much.’ Declan laughed. ‘But, heck, you’re a straight talker.’
The same words he’d used at the ball too, when she’d outright demanded he kiss her, right there on the dance floor, when she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how those lips would feel against hers. When she’d wanted something … him… to exorcise the past.
She snapped her eyes closed, hoping to goodness he didn’t remember that. When she opened them again he was looking at her strangely. Strangely interested. The ghost of that kiss hovered between them as his eyes fixed on hers. Yes, he remembered. And if the brief flash of heat was anything to go by he remembered how good it had felt too. That warm glow in her abdomen returned.
She doused it with a quick shot of reality as she began to walk along the corridor towards the burns unit High Dependency ward. The last time she’d got carried away by hearts and flowers and physical desires she’d ended up married. Then endured a swift lesson in a run of all the emotions from A to Z.
She’d packed a lifetime of hurt into those few years and she had no intention of making the same mistakes again. So much had sent her reeling, trying to work out how something that had started out so pure had ended so damned soiled. Focusing on her career was a lot less painful—but then, that was what had caused all the trouble in the first place.
‘It comes from my upbringing, I guess.’
‘Oh? What?’ He fell into step beside her.
‘Forthrightness. I’m an army brat. Always moving around. If you don’t say what you think straightaway you’ll be packed up and on the move before you get another chance.’ There’d been a lot of lost chances before she’d learnt that lesson. ‘Although it can get me into trouble.’
‘I imagine it can.’
It already has, his look said. On that dance floor.
His dark pupils flared. ‘Australian army?’
‘Yes. My parents met as new recruits and both followed military careers.’
‘Exciting? Interesting?’
‘Difficult … for them both, I think. One member of a family in the military is hard enough, but both parents trying to work up the career ladder meant a lot of discussing, juggling, arguing, vying for priority. What their child wanted came at the bottom of the pecking order.’
She’d learnt to speak loudly and fight hard to get heard.
‘Constantly moving and growing up on bases makes you grow a thick skin and a quick mouth. But, hey, I can shoot in a straight line and hit a target at a hundred metres.’
‘Me too.’ At her frown he illuminated, ‘Farm boy.’
Now, that was a surprise. He oozed class and rubbed easy broad shoulders with a rich and famous clientele. ‘Irish farm boy to Harley Street surgeon? That must be an interesting story.’
‘Not really.’ His smile disappeared and he looked at her as if she’d stepped over some imaginary line. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he quickened his step. She got the message—working together was okay, even kissing wasn’t a step too close, but sharing intimate details …? Never. And that suited her just fine. The less she shared about the life she’d left the better too.
As they entered the unit Kara observed an atmosphere of calm chaos—a feeling that matched her stomach. Although being surrounded by busy people was much less intense than being alone with Declan. She knew how to act here. There were protocols and policies, standards and codes. Out there in the real world, the dating world, the rules were far too confusing.
She breathed out and put her professional hat firmly on. ‘So, all the staff are up to speed with privacy requests, and everyone has been told not to comment at all to anyone phoning in, regardless of who they say they are.’
‘Excellent.’ He nodded, walking into the room he’d personally had allocated to Safia. ‘This looks perfect, but keep the bed away from the window.’ He peered through the blinds down to the road outside. ‘No one should be able to see her here on this floor. As soon as she arrives we’ll need to check her pain levels and medication. I don’t want her to be scared we’re going to hurt her when we remove the dressings. Then I’ll need an immediate blood screen to make sure she’s haemodynamically stable. Then … then we can take a good look and see what we’re dealing with.’
‘No worries.’ She picked up the clipboard on the end of the bed and checked all the correct paperwork was in place.
‘So.’ Declan glanced around. ‘What’s her ETA?’
Kara glanced at her watch. ‘Ten minutes.’
‘Excellent.’
Although this was a devastating case, he looked wired and ready. This was another side of him she’d heard about but hadn’t yet encountered: his infectious enthusiasm for his work. It seemed the man had many sides apart from his infamous charm, and yet—as she’d witnessed—a mysterious unwillingness to open up about anything personal.
Which was fine. Because she would not let that kiss get in the way of her job. Or let that body of his distract her from her purpose. Or those eyes … Her stomach did a little cartwheel … Those eyes staring at her with playful teasing.
‘So, Kara Stephens, it looks like we have just enough time to check out the sheets.’
‘What?’ Her pulse rocketed.
The smile he flashed her was nothing less than wicked. ‘Thread count?’
‘Oh. Yes. Of course.’ And she blushed again, because one mention of sheets and their thread count was the furthest thing from her mind.