The Doctor's Surprise Bride. Fiona McArthur

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      CHAPTER TWO

      BY LUNCHTIME Mary had departed to rest as ordered by her doctor.

      Eliza glanced around at the eight elderly patients seated at the dining table to eat their lunch. She’d handed out the medications and done a ward tidy with Vivian.

      If Eliza looked on the workload as just a normal ward with diverse patients, and not a whole hospital, there was nothing she hadn’t done before.

      By six-thirty that evening she’d found most things she could possibly need, had had in-depth conversations with all the inpatients, as well as read their medical records and helped with the evening meal.

      She’d glanced through the rosters to see how they worked and spent ten minutes on the phone to Julie, her friend at the nursing agency, to say she was settling in.

      Now all she had to do was a ward round with the distracting Dr Dancer and she’d be finished for the day.

      Eliza glanced at the clock again and drummed her fingers on the nurses’ station desk.

      He was late.

      She was getting more unsettled by the minute with a waiting-for-the-dentist kind of tension and Eliza wished he’d just arrive. Surely Dancer wasn’t so spectacular he’d turned her into a bundle of nerves?

      Apparently he was. When Jack breezed in he brought more devastation to her peace of mind than she needed. So much for saying her imagination had been over-active. His wavy black hair was tousled as if he’d been dragging distracted hands through it all day, and he’d even jammed a couple of curls behind his ears. That was when she noticed he had a tiny diamond in his right ear lobe. How on earth had she missed that this morning?

      ‘Ready for the round?’ He seemed very businesslike and Eliza allowed some of the tightness to ease from her shoulders. Businesslike sounded good. He’d want to get home, too. The brusquer the better, Eliza thought gratefully.

      ‘Let’s go.’ She picked up a notebook in case she needed to take notes.

      He glanced across at her briefly, and she saw he had dark chocolate eyes, not black, as she’d previously thought, a strange thing to notice when she was supposed to be immune.

      ‘So how was your day?’ Jack was brief and Eliza even briefer.

      ‘Fine.’ She picked up the pace to get the next few minutes over as quickly as possible. Noticing too many things about this man, Eliza, she thought grimly.

      ‘Are we racing again?’ Laughter in his voice and Eliza felt her face stiffen. Please, don’t let him be nice to me or flirt with me or in any way endear himself to me, she prayed. There was something about him that pierced her skin like a poison dart and was just as irritating. She was not playing man games any more.

      ‘I just know you’ll be emotionally scarred and unable to have a worthwhile relationship,’ she muttered.

      Jack stopped walking and Eliza carried on a few more steps before she realised she’d said what was on her mind out loud! She closed her eyes and then opened them again. Oh, boy!

      He tilted his head. ‘I’m sorry? What did you say?’

      She glanced down and then lifted her chin resolutely. ‘Sorry. Ignore that.’

      He looked stunned.

      She shrugged. ‘Look, I may seem mad, but I’ve had the worst run of luck with men and I’m still spinning from the last one. I seem to have a penchant for poor sods who have been a victim of some unscrupulous woman. They find me, I heal their poor broken hearts, and then they happily marry someone else. I usually get invited to the wedding. For some bizarre reason, I don’t want to play that game any more.’

      She was sure his eyes were glazing over but it was imperative she make this clear. ‘This may seem more than you need to know, but I am trying to explain my stupid comment.’

      He moved his lips a little but didn’t actually say a word. Eliza sighed. ‘Forget I spoke and we’ll do the ward round.’

      Jack felt as if someone had just popped a paper bag in his unsuspecting face. He’d known there was something odd about her. The chameleon fairy was mad and Mary was gone. What the heck were they going to do? He’d had a hell of a day already.

      After the dash out for Mia’s asthma attack, he’d returned to his office and realised today was the anniversary of the worst day of his life. He hadn’t been able to believe it had slipped his mind for a few hours.

       After he’d fought his way out of that depression, a desperate young couple, distant relatives on his mother’s side, had miscarried their second IVF baby. Then one of his uncles had come in for results on a mole he’d excised last week, and the specimen had proved to be a particularly vicious melanoma.

      Now this!

      The new fairy matron was a man-hating elf with issues.

      He heard her voice from a long way off. ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘Forget it.’

      He blinked, the hallway came into focus again, and he shelved her replacement problems for a minute. Deep breath, Jack, he suggested to himself.

      She was still talking as if nothing had happened. ‘You should have a look at Keith’s wound. I know he’s supposed to go home tomorrow but I believe he’s brewing an infection.’

      Jack blinked. He’d just play along with her until after the round. ‘Fine. I’ll look at that. How’s Keith’s temperature?’

      ‘Creeping up, and it spiked to thirty-nine this afternoon before it went down again.’

      Jack glanced at the chart the madwoman handed him from the end of Keith’s bed and he saw that she was right. Blast. They’d have to start intravenous antibiotics again because Keith had little reserve to fight infection after his brush with peritonitis.

      She’d pulled the curtains and had Keith supine in the bed with his shirt up before Jack could ask, and when she removed the dressing, tell-tale red streaks were inching away from Keith’s wound.

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