Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant. Sarah Morgan

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      ‘Not in my department,’ Jago said softly, visibly unimpressed by her error. ‘Next time request the right views and check them carefully. Expect the unexpected. Rare injuries still happen. Refer the patient to the orthopaedic team for a manipulation under anaesthetic and then join me in Resus. We’ve got an RTA coming in.’

      ‘Yes, Mr Rodriguez.’ The young female SHO was pink with mortification and Jago gritted his teeth impatiently. The girl was sloppy and over-confident and he’d be relieved when she finished her six-month stint in two weeks’ time. Some people weren’t cut out for emergency medicine and she was one of them. And on top of that, her longing looks were beginning to irritate him. She’d made it obvious that she’d be happy to extend their relationship beyond the confines of the hospital but he had more sense than to break hearts in his own department and these days he was becoming more and more picky about who he shared his bed with.

      By his side Charlotte winced. ‘Ouch—you were hard on her.’

      Jago lifted a dark eyebrow, his expression cool. ‘You’d prefer that she discharged a patient with a dislocation?’

      ‘No, but—’

      ‘Patients have the right to expect the very best care when they come into this department. She has a great deal to learn.’

      Ending the conversation abruptly, Jago pushed his way through the swing doors just as the ambulance roared into the ambulance bay.

      The paramedics opened the back and lifted out the stretcher. ‘Young female with head and chest injuries. She was shunted from behind so we’ve had her on a backboard. GCS of 7 at the scene but she regained consciousness fairly quickly and it’s 12 now, but she’s not saying much.’ The paramedic frowned. ‘She hasn’t been able to tell us her name or anything, but we’ve got her bag so we need to try and find out who she is.’

      Jago turned to look at the still form of the girl lying on the trolley and his powerful body froze in shock. He stared in stunned disbelief, his muscular shoulders tense as his eyes raked over the blonde hair and the endless limbs.

       I love you, Jago.

      ‘I know who she is.’

      Only years of exercising rigid control over his intrinsically volatile emotions prevented him from displaying his reaction to her in a very public way.

      The paramedic was looking at him. ‘You do? Oh—right. Well, in that case …’

      ‘Take her through to Resus,’ Jago ordered, his eyes still on the long, primrose blonde hair, now matted with blood.

       Do you think I’m pretty, Jago?

      ‘Her air bag didn’t open properly and she hit the windscreen,’ the paramedic explained as they manoeuvred the stretcher into the A and E department. ‘Her head bled a lot and she’s going to need stitches, but we’ve put a pad on it for now. She might have chest injuries, too, from the way she was thrown against the steering-wheel. Weird really. There didn’t seem to be anyone else involved. You should have seen the car. Frankly, she was bloody lucky to escape alive.’

      Jago’s expression didn’t flicker, his eyes as black as night and his manner controlled and totally professional. ‘OK, guys, let’s get to work. Get me some gloves, please—she’s covered in glass. Be careful!’

      Someone handed him some gloves and he pulled them on quickly as Charlotte moved closer to the trolley.

      ‘Hello, can you hear me, er …?’ She glanced up questioningly. ‘Do we have a name?’

      ‘Her name is Katherine.’ Jago checked her airway and reached for an oxygen mask. ‘Katherine Westerling.’

       Huge blue eyes staring into his, innocence mingling with excitement and anticipation as his hard body moved against her softness …

      ‘Right.’ Charlotte exchanged puzzled glances with one of her colleagues. ‘Why is that name familiar?’

      ‘She’s the daughter of Sir Charles Westerling, the banker,’ Jago informed her tautly, and Charlotte’s eyes widened.

      ‘Wow! I’ve seen pictures of her in the glossies, looking glamorous. She’s seriously rich and really, really beautiful.’

      And totally lacking in morals.

      His relationship with Katy had been the one and only time in his life that he’d lowered his guard with a woman. And he hadn’t made the same mistake since.

       Her father, telling him the truth, showing him the evidence …

      ‘That’s her.’ His emotions held rigidly in check, Jago didn’t look up, his hands moving swiftly as he worked to stabilise Katy. She was just a patient. ‘Now, can we stop gossiping and just get on with the job?’

      Charlotte stiffened warily, cast him a curious look and then turned her attention back to the patient. ‘Katherine? Katherine, can you hear me?’

      Katy lay with her eyes closed.

      She could hear voices but she didn’t respond. It felt nice to hide in the darkness. There was a sharp prick in her arm and hands moving over her.

       ‘Katherine.’

      A kind female voice was calling her name but it felt like too much effort to respond.

      Then she heard a harsh, male voice and her body tensed. It sounded so familiar.

      ‘Her X-rays are fine but she’s got a laceration by her hairline that’s going to need suturing and she was knocked out so she’s going to have to stay in overnight for observation.’ Fingers touched her and then she heard the voice again. ‘She’s shivering. Get some blankets.’

      Something soft and cosy covered her immediately but the shivering wouldn’t stop.

      ‘Any relatives?’

      ‘She was on her own in the car.’

      ‘Open your eyes, Katherine.’

      Hands touching her, the prick of another needle.

      ‘OK, she’s stable.’ The familiar male voice again. ‘I’ll leave you to get on with it. Get her a bed on the ward and call me if anything changes.’

      ‘How’s that head?’

      Katy lay in the bed, watching the nurse who was checking her blood pressure. ‘Aching, but I’ll live.’ She moved her head to look around her and then winced as pain lanced through her skull. ‘Which hospital am I in?’

      ‘St Andrew’s. We put seven stitches in your head but your hair will cover it so don’t worry about having a scar.’

       St Andrew’s?

      Katy closed her eyes and suppressed a groan. Having a scar was the least of her problems. She was due to start work in this very department in two weeks’ time. How embarrassing!

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