Hot Single Docs: Happily Ever After. Kate Hardy

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      The dust was thick. Getting thicker. The chop-chop-chop of a nearby helicopter was stirring the ground. Bringing assistance, but it was going to be too late. It was getting hard to breathe. He could smell the dust. Taste it. Dust mixed with blood to become a suffocating soup.

      His companions needed help. The driver was slumped over the wheel, others bleeding. The young paramedic was crying. Facing death and terrified.

      He could feel that terror reach out and invade his own mind. He was frozen. Becoming aware of the pain in his own leg. Terrible, unimaginable pain. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move …

      They were his brothers, these men. All of them. And he was going to watch them die.

      He was about to die himself. He could see the enemy emerging from the clouds of dust, their bodies shrouded with the clothing of the desert, their faces disguised by heavy, dark beards. He could see the cruel muzzles of the weapons they were pointing at him but he couldn’t move.

      Couldn’t even breathe …

      The sound of his own scream was as choked as the air around him.

      Arghhh!

      The desperate, strangled sound that finally escaped his throat was, mercifully, enough to wake him. Even as his eyes snapped open, Luke was throwing back the covers on his bed, swinging his legs over the edge so that it was a continuous, flowing movement that had him sitting, hunched on the side of his bed, his head in his hands as he struggled to drag in a breath.

      The feeling of suffocation—of imminent death—was still there.

      He couldn’t afford to stay still. He knew what he had to do.

      The warm, fleecy trackpants were draped over the end of his bed. His shoes were right there to shove his feet into. Running shoes.

      It wasn’t real, he reminded himself as he pulled the laces tight. It hadn’t even happened that way. He had never seen the enemy. He had been able to move. To drag his companions to shelter behind the vehicle as the helicopter hovered overhead. He had staunched the flow of blood and kept airways patent. None of them had died.

      But the nightmare was always the same.

      He was watching his own brother die. Feeling the fear. Unable to help.

      Matthew. Mattie. The clumsy kid with the happy grin who’d had to tag along with his older brothers and do everything they did. Crash.

      Oh … God! What on earth had possessed him to suggest that Anna Bartlett use that precious nickname for that skinny, ridiculous-looking dog?

      What was she doing with a dog in the first place? How could she keep a pet that needed so much time and love with the kind of hours he already knew she put into her career? She did love it. He had seen that in the way she held it and soothed it. The way her face had brightened with joy at finding a name she really liked.

      He had now pulled on the coat hanging by the door. Within seconds he was lurching down the rough track that led to the beach. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night. His night vision was better than most people’s and he was getting very familiar with this route.

      Maybe it didn’t matter that he’d given his brother’s name away to a dog. It wasn’t as though he was planning to visit that unlikely little cottage again and they were hardly likely to be chatting about it at work because they never talked about anything remotely personal.

      In fact, he was having enormous difficulty reconciling the woman who was his assistant head of department with the person he’d found on the floor of that room cuddling … Crash.

      Sea air so fresh that it bit into his lungs and numbed his face barely penetrated his awareness. He could feel the shifting of sand beneath his feet and hear the sound of the surf crashing in right beside him but his mind had fastened onto that picture of Anna on the floor.

      With her hair in a soft tumble of curls. Her arms holding a vulnerable creature. Comforting it. Protecting it. He had felt the love. That was what had hit him in such a poignant place. What had reminded him of the kid brother who had never come home.

      He’d reached the end of the beach now. Turned to go home again. He might even manage another couple of hours’ sleep before daylight came. Usually, by the time he had done this punishing circuit, the nightmare had faded.

      And it was only then that Luke realised he hadn’t had to fight the remnants of that terrible dream the way he always did. From even before he’d left his house, all he’d been thinking about was Anna.

      Or rather the two Annas.

      Now that he’d seen her at home, he’d be able to recognise what he’d missed at work so far, surely? Some signs that hidden beneath that power-dressing, uberprofessional, calm, cool and collected surgeon was … the most compelling woman he’d ever met in his life.

      He was watching her. And he was puzzled.

      Anna could feel the unasked questions hanging in the air between them.

      Had it been real? Had he really found her wearing scruffy clothes, with her hair in an untidy mop, living in a shambolic house with a rather large and definitely unhygienic animal? Did she really have a sense of humour?

      It was easy to emanate denial because that wasn’t who she was at work. She’d also had years of practice in deflecting any line of communication that threatened to become personal. Patients could be so useful.

      Like first thing on Monday morning when the anticipation of seeing Luke for the first time since he’d been in her house was making Anna feel more nervous than she had since her junior years as a doctor when she’d had to perform in front of some eminent consultant.

      Luke hadn’t looked any different.

      ‘Good morning, Anna. How are you?’

      ‘Very good.’ She wasn’t going to return the query. Luke wasn’t one of her patients.

      ‘How’s—?’

      Crash? She knew that was coming next and she had to stamp on that topic of conversation before it could start. The temptation to talk about her puppy was too strong. She wanted to tell Luke that Crash had learned to sit. That he had stepped on an overturned lid of a paint tin and made a giant pawprint on her wooden floor and it had been such a perfect signature she’d been reluctant to clean it off. Would that make him smile again? She couldn’t afford to find out.

      ‘Mrs Melton?’ She interrupted smoothly. ‘Finally getting to Theatre, thank goodness. I know it’s your slot this morning but I’m more than happy to do the surgery. Or assist.’

      ‘It’s a long time since I did a CABG.’ He knew exactly what she’d done in changing the subject. She could see him taking it on board that her private life was not up for discussion. Could see the focus as he let it go. ‘Might be a good idea if you assisted.’

      Was this a challenge? To see if she did trust him to operate safely on his own? A sideways glance as Luke fell into step beside her made her notice that his hair was damp. Just out of the shower? That image was disturbing. Anna dragged in a breath, only to catch a whiff of something fresh and clean. Like a sea breeze. Good heavens, СКАЧАТЬ