tion id="u2bd0f0da-840d-55fd-ba4c-cc20d8fc8da2">
‘He looks great.’ Eden smiled fondly, because Ben did. Out of the hospital pyjamas and dressed in real clothes he looked just like any other little toddler, clutching a soft toy and dozing in his car-seat.
‘So do you!’ And there was nothing light or flip about Nick’s voice. His statement was delivered in a low, husky voice, and Eden jerked her head to face him. Even with the barrier of his shades, she could feel the admiration in his gaze. ‘You look stunning, Eden.’
‘It won’t last.’ Somehow it was Eden who managed light and flip. ‘My mum bought me some hair straighteners, but despite the promises I doubt they’re quite up to a warm, humid Sydney Christmas.’ She was babbling—terribly so—wishing Nick would just tear his eyes away, wishing he would start the engine so that she could remember how to breathe again. ‘Nick…’
CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as writer. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation and after chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—writing. The third question asked—what are your hobbies? Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered swimming and tennis, but, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open—I’m sure you can guess the real answer!
Christmas on the Children’s Ward
Carol Marinelli
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
CONTENTS
‘HEY!’
Coming out of his office, chatting away to a rather pretty, rather blonde physiotherapist, Consultant Paediatrician Nick Watson was flattened against the wall as Eden Hadley rushed past, visibly upset.
Visibly, because Eden was incapable of hiding her emotions. Along with wearing her heart on her sleeve, her expressive face told anyone who cared to look exactly what she was thinking, and right now it didn’t take a degree in psychology to work out that she was far from happy. Her pretty full mouth was set in a grim line and her dark brown eyes flashed angrily as Nick caught her arm to halt her progress. Her long, dark, chocolate curls fell out of her loose ponytail as she swung around to confront him.
‘Just leave it, Nick,’ Eden said through gritted teeth.
‘Leave what?’ Nick frowned, gesturing for her to wait as he said goodbye to the physiotherapist. ‘Thanks for that, Amber, it’s been very helpful.’
‘Any time, Nick. Call me if you need to discuss Rory’s ambulation programme further.’ Amber smiled and Eden felt her already gritted teeth starting to grind as the tall slender physio continued talking, completely unfazed by Eden’s presence. ‘In fact, call me anyway—I’ll look forward to it.’
‘Well, she certainly knows how to get her message across!’ Eden bristled as Amber waltzed off, her back impossibly straight, flicking her blonde hair as she did so.
‘She was just being friendly.’ Nick laughed. ‘Just what is it that you have against physios?’
‘Their glowing health,’ Eden moaned. ‘Their toned bodies and white smiles. I could go on for ever. I haven’t yet met one with a single vice. You just know that they’ll be tucking into a cottage cheese salad for lunch, know for a fact that they don’t smoke.’
‘Neither do you,’ Nick pointed out, and then shook his head. ‘Let’s not change the subject. This is my ward, Eden, and if there’s a problem I need to know about it.’
‘There isn’t a problem,’ Eden insisted. ‘At least, not any more.’
‘Eden, you’ve lost me.’
Taking a deep breath, she finally faced him. ‘Donna just called an impromptu meeting to discuss the revised Christmas roster.’
‘Oh.’
Instantly his eyes glazed over. The nursing roster was way down on Nick Watson’s list of priorities. So long as his precious patients were happy then so was he. But, Eden reminded herself, Nick was the one who’d stopped her, who had demanded that she tell him what was wrong, and Nick who had insisted that she voice her problem. And voice it she would.
Loudly!