When her head had turned to scan the room, he hadn’t needed to be close enough to see the colour of her eyes to recognise that this was, indeed, Anna Bartlett. While she wasn’t radiating resentment right now, there was an air of containment about her that suggested she didn’t change her mind easily. A reserve that could well morph into an arctic-type chill when she saw him. A woman that knew her own mind and woe betide anyone that got in her way. Like him.
Luke almost sighed as he dropped his gaze back to a meal he wasn’t particularly interested in. He wasn’t enjoying this lunchtime experience much at all, in fact. He knew that many of the people around had to be talking about him. Gossiping. The happy chatter and laughter going on around him, even the smell of abundant, hot food all seemed irrelevant. Superficial.
The crash and then the scream had been real, though. He’d reacted on autopilot. He wasn’t sure what had made him demand Anna as an assistant. Possibly because she had been the only staff member nearby that he could call by name. Or maybe it was the memory of how well they had worked together in Theatre only a short time ago.
It had been a good choice. The crisis had been dealt with and a life had been saved and it had only been then, when it was virtually done and dusted and he was handing his patient into the care of a new team, that Luke had allowed anything else to enter his head. It was then that he’d had his first close-up look at Dr Bartlett and he’d had the curious impression that he’d been looking at something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing.
No wonder! The cool professional he’d seen queuing for her lunch was absent. This woman, standing in the canteen kitchen with a creased skirt and a shirt that had come untucked on one side, was … wrong, somehow. Even more disconcerting was that a thick lock of dark blonde hair had escaped the bun thing and lay against a long, pale neck.
Her cheeks were flushed. From the exertion and stress of doing CPR or was she embarrassed at being dishevelled? Even her eyes looked different. Enlarged pupils made them seem softer. Warmer.
Good grief … she was rather lovely.
Any impression of warmth vanished, however, as Luke stared at her, unable to drag his gaze away.
And then she dismissed him! Simply turned on her heel and walked away.
How rude. No genuine warmth there, then. Anna Bartlett was clearly a career woman through and through, and she probably saw him as nothing less than an obstacle in her scramble to the top of that ladder. Any hope that she might discuss this morning’s incident with him before reporting it to a higher authority faded and disappeared.
Charlotte, the cardiologist, was saying something to him, he realised. Something about whether he’d like to come with them to the emergency department to see what the investigations Roger needed would reveal.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Please.’
‘You’ll remember Ben Carter?’
‘Of course.’
‘And have you met Josh O’Hara? No, you wouldn’t have. He joined the A and E staff while you were away.’
Luke kept up with the pace set by the people pushing the stretcher, heading away from the canteen and any areas that his assistant was likely to be heading for.
He’d see Anna again soon enough. Doing a ward round later today or perhaps in the departmental meeting scheduled for early tomorrow morning. Given how he felt about her in the wake of that dismissal, it might even be too soon.
The aura of the war hero already surrounding the return of Luke Davenport to St Piran’s had evolved into something far more tangible by the time Anna was halfway through her ward round later that afternoon.
He had become a living legend.
Thanks to the crowd in the canteen at the time, accounts of the incident would have spread like wildfire and reached every corner of this institution in no time flat. Spilling into ears eager for the smallest details.
The junior nursing staff on the cardiology ward were discussing it when Anna paused outside the central station to collect some patient notes she needed.
‘It was like something in the movies,’ someone was saying in awed tones. ‘He just pushed everything off the counter and jumped over it.’
‘I heard he did mouth-to-mouth without even using a face shield.’
‘Yeah …’
‘Is the guy still alive?’
‘Apparently he’s in the cath lab right now. He’ll probably get admitted in here or CCU when they’re finished.’
‘Do you think Mr Davenport will come down with him?’
‘Ooh … I hope so.’
The giggling from the young nurses was irritating. Anna decided it was because her own participation in the incident had been totally eclipsed by the actions of St Piran’s new superhero. Except that she couldn’t convince herself to be that petty. The irritation was really there because part of her was as star-struck as everyone else seemed to be. The man was intriguing. Compelling. Apparently trustworthy. And that was disturbing because Anna felt that she knew something about him that no one else knew. Or would believe.
If she wanted to discuss her concerns with someone, the obvious choice would be Albert White, the CEO of St Piran’s. He would listen to any concerns she might have about Luke’s abilities. He might even believe her and, if he did, he might set some kind of probationary programme in place. Things like that did not remain confidential. Eventually, it would leak. Given his performance in the canteen and new status amongst the staff, nobody else would believe Anna.
She might find herself more alone than she’d ever been in her struggle to break through the glass ceiling of her gender. It could affect how well she was able to do her own job. She stood to lose the trust and possibly even the co-operation of the people she worked with and teamwork was vital in this line of work.
Tread carefully, she reminded herself, even when her demotion from being team leader had been rubbed in when a flurry of activity had heralded the new arrival in the coronary care unit adjacent to the ward and more than the necessary staff numbers flocked to greet both the patient and the new head of department.
Roger the chef was made comfortable and wired up so that every beat of his heart could be monitored, the trace and its extra information like blood pressure and the level of oxygen in his blood appearing on one of the screens flanking the central nurses’ station. It was there that Luke caught up with Anna.
‘He needs urgent revascularisation,’ he informed her. ‘I’m hoping you can fit him in on your list for tomorrow.’
Anna closed her eyes for a split second as she groaned inwardly. She opened them to find herself under intense scrutiny.
‘Is that a problem?’ Luke asked. ‘You don’t have any elective patients on the list?’
‘I do, but I’ve just been talking to a Mrs Melton and reassuring her. She’s stable but has severe triple vessel disease. This is her third admission for surgery because she’s been bumped off the list for urgent cases on the last two occasions.’
‘Has she had a major infarct? An arrest?’
‘No.’
‘Come and look at Roger’s films and then we can discuss it. Have you got viewing facilities in your office?’
She did, but Anna was aware of a strong reluctance to take Luke there. She had chosen not to take over his office in his absence and her space was relatively small. It was also the most personal space she had here at work.
She was already a little too aware of this man. His size and reputation and … and whatever it was that was exerting a tugging sensation on something emotional. Not to mention the danger that frisson of potential attraction had represented. She didn’t want him invading a personal space. Not yet. Not until she felt a lot more confident in her interactions with him and that