Kiss Me Under the Mistletoe. Fiona Harper

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ just before it hit the floor.

      A smile curved her lips. She’d been right. Brawn wasn’t everything. Brains could be just as effective, but it had been a close-run thing.

      ‘OK, Mr Tough Guy,’ she murmured, getting awkwardly to her feet. ‘Let’s see what damage you’ve done to yourself.’

      To her relief his hand wasn’t as badly injured as it had looked. He’d certainly sliced his thumb pretty badly, and there were lacerations to his other fingers, but luckily he hadn’t hit any vital arteries.

      ‘You must have a charmed life,’ she observed as she cleaned his hand, then inserted some stitches. ‘Pity I can’t say the same about your manners.’ A loud snore was her only reply and she chuckled. ‘See you around, Mr Taylor—but hopefully not for a very long time.’

      Quickly she pulled back the cubicle curtains and blinked as a round of applause greeted her.

      ‘Way to go, boss!’ Babs beamed. ‘Whoever said women were the weaker species?’

      ‘Not at the Belfield they’re not,’ Fiona exclaimed, and Jerry grinned.

      ‘You look as though you’ve had a tussle with a mad axe murderer and lost.’

      ‘Oh, funny.’ Olivia laughed. ‘Babs, Mr Taylor’s hand will need a dressing. I’ve given him enough sedative to knock out an elephant but keep your eye on him. He—’

      ‘What the hell’s going on?’

      Olivia turned to see Seth striding down the examination room towards her, and smiled. ‘Crisis over. Mr Taylor—’

      ‘You’re bleeding,’ Seth declared, concern plain on his face. ‘Babs, we’ll need a cross-match, X-rays—’

      ‘Seth, these are tomato stains,’ Olivia said, beginning to laugh, only to stop when she saw his expression. ‘I’m not laughing at you—honestly I’m not. It was sweet of you to be concerned, but Mr Taylor just decided to throw some fruit around, and I was the unlucky recipient of the tomatoes. I’ve stitched—’

      ‘Babs, have you telephoned the janitor to come and clean up this mess?’ he snapped, cutting right across Olivia’s explanation.

      The sister flushed. ‘Not yet, but—’

      ‘Then I suggest you do it now. If a patient slips and falls we’ll have a negligence suit slapped on us before you can say diddly squat and I don’t think Admin will consider that a laughing matter, do you?’

      ‘And I don’t think there was any need for you to chew poor Babs’s head off,’ Olivia protested as the sister hurried towards the phone and Fiona escaped into Mr Taylor’s cubicle. ‘It’s been pretty hairy in here for the past quarter of an hour, and—’ He’d walked away from her. He’d just upped and walked away, and she turned to Jerry furiously. ‘Of all the rude, arrogant…What is wrong with that guy?’

      ‘I think he was worried about you,’ the specialist registrar replied, and Olivia rolled her eyes heavenwards.

      ‘Worried? Seth Hardcastle wouldn’t care if I was strung up by a mob of rioting yobs.’

      ‘Of course he would. Look, he’s not normally like this,’ Jerry continued as Olivia shook her head. ‘All right, so he can be a bit abrasive at times if he thinks a patient’s trying to con him, or if Admin’s giving him the runaround, but—’

      ‘So you’re saying it’s me—my fault?’ Olivia exclaimed, pulling off her stained white coat and throwing it into the laundry basket with rather more force than was strictly necessary. ‘Jerry, he’s impossible. If I said white, he’d say black, just to be difficult.’

      The specialist registrar looked uncomfortable. ‘I know he has some pretty strong views—’

      ‘Some?’ Olivia spluttered. She opened her mouth to give Jerry chapter and verse of all the things Seth had said and done over the past week, then snapped her jaw shut. Gossiping with a member of staff about another member of staff was a definite no-no. Asking for information, however, wasn’t. ‘Jerry, why didn’t he get the clinical director’s job? He’s got the experience, the ability, so why didn’t he get the job?’

      Jerry sighed. ‘Seth’s always been a bit of a maverick, and I guess Admin’s not keen on guys doing their own thing.’

      Independence wasn’t a bad thing, Olivia thought as she stared down the examination room to where Seth was deep in conversation with one of the nurses. She just wished his particular brand of independence wasn’t always constantly directed at her.

      ‘Well, I can’t change my sex,’ she said belligerently, ‘so he’s just going to have to live with it.’

      Jerry looked startled. ‘Can’t change your…? Why would you—?’

      ‘Oh, lord, what’s wrong now?’ Olivia exclaimed as Tony strode angrily out of cubicle 3, followed by an equally irate-looking man.

      ‘Looks like young Tony’s in trouble,’ Jerry observed.

      ‘Looks like young Tony needs help,’ Olivia said, and together they hurried towards him.

      ‘Dr Mackenzie, perhaps you can convince Mr Carter that I’m a bona fide, fully qualified medic,’ Tony said the moment he saw her. ‘He seems to feel—’

      ‘Is either of you somebody in authority?’ Mr Carter demanded, glancing from Jerry to Olivia then back again.

      ‘I’m the clinical director in charge of this department,’ Olivia replied. ‘What can I do for you?’

      ‘You’re in charge of the department?’

      The man’s surprise was palpable, and Olivia gritted her teeth for the third time that morning. Where were all these New Age men she kept reading about? Her tally for today—and it wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet—was two male chauvinists and a drunk who thought women should be used as target practice.

      ‘Yes, I’m in charge of the department,’ she said as evenly as she could. ‘What seems to be the trouble?’

      ‘There is no trouble,’ Tony insisted. ‘I’m just trying to convince Mr Carter that his wife has a bad cold—’

      ‘My wife does not have a cold,’ Mr Carter interrupted. ‘My wife is ill—very ill—and I want a second opinion.’

      Out of the corner of her eye Olivia could see that Seth was no longer talking to the nurse but staring intently at the whiteboard. He didn’t fool her for a second. He was eavesdropping, listening to find out how she was going to handle the situation. Well, let him listen. She didn’t need his help. If she could deal with a fruit-throwing alcoholic, she could deal with an irate husband.

      She beckoned to Babs. ‘Sister, could you take Mr Carter—?’

      ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ the man exclaimed, his eyes angry, his colour high. ‘I’m staying right here until you find out what’s wrong with my wife.’

      He would, too, unless she found some way to placate him, and Olivia summoned СКАЧАТЬ