One Life-Changing Night. Louisa Heaton

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СКАЧАТЬ ELEVEN

       EPILOGUE

       Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

      SHE HADN’T EXPECTED to fall into the arms of a stunningly handsome man on her first day at work. Or to have climbed up a wobbly ladder in Welbeck Memorial’s A&E department. But it was nearly the end of January and the Christmas decorations were still up.

      Naomi had offered to take them down at the end of her shift, which had been a long twelve hours, and her head was buzzing with information and protocols and procedures. But she had nothing waiting for her at home—not even a cat—and, quite frankly, putting off going back to her little bedsit with its dingy second-hand furniture had seemed like a good option. Starting a new life was one thing, but starting it in a derelict, ought-to-be-bulldozed ground-floor flat with a growing mould problem was another.

      When she’d offered to take the decorations down, the sister in charge had been very sweet. ‘Oh, you don’t have to do that! We’ll get one of the porters to do it. It’s your first day.’

      But she’d insisted. ‘Honestly, it’s fine. Besides, it’s bad luck to keep them up this long. Bringing the old year into the new.’

      ‘Well, just be careful. There’s a stepladder in my office you can use, but make sure you get someone to steady it for you, or you’ll have Health and Safety on my back.’

      Naomi smiled to herself, remembering the health and safety lecture she’d sat through that morning. She would be sensible and follow the rules. Just as she’d always done. She located the boxes for the Christmas decorations piled high in the sister’s office and spent the first hour removing baubles and tinsel from the lower branches.

      The old, artificial tree was almost bald in parts and she could see it was decades old, dragged out from its box year after year to try and brighten the place up. Her nose wrinkled as she leant too far into one of the branches and breathed in dust and the smell of Christmases past.

      As she pulled her face free of the tree, another stench—this one of alcohol and body odour—mixed into the fray, sweeping over her like a wave. A scruffy-looking man with stained clothes staggered towards her. She turned to steady him as he passed by, hoping to steer him back in the direction of the waiting room, but the drunk angrily turned on her instead. ‘Leave me alone! Shouldn’t you be working instead of playing with that tree? I’ve been waiting to be seen for ages and you’re out here messing around!’

      They often saw people who were drunk in Accident and Emergency and Naomi knew they were mostly unthreatening. All she had to do was be non-confrontational and pleasant and they would be satisfied.

      She smiled and led him back into the waiting room. ‘You’ll be seen soon, sir, don’t worry.’

      ‘Bloomin’ patronising me! You should be working!’ he slurred.

      She saw no point in telling him she’d already worked a twelve-hour shift and that she ought to have been at home by now. He didn’t want to hear that. He wanted to hear that he would be treated. ‘I’m sure it won’t be long now.’

      Once he was settled back into his chair, she went back to the tree. To get the decorations down from the top she needed to go up the ladder. And that meant she needed someone to help steady it.

      She headed back into the unit, looking for someone who was free, but everyone was so busy. And she didn’t know anyone well enough yet to interrupt their work and ask them to help her. Because what was more important? Patient care, or an old tree?

      Naomi looked down the long corridor at the stepladder. It wasn’t that high. Just three steps. What harm would it do, if she was quick? Surely Matron wouldn’t like her taking away a member of staff to hold a ladder when they could be treating someone.

       Hmm. I’ll be careful. These health and safety measures are always too cautious anyway.

      She positioned the ladder where she needed it, noticing that it was a little uneven, and gave a quick look around to make sure no one was about to pounce and tell her off, and climbed up. She picked off the first few baubles and strings of tinsel and dropped them into the cardboard boxes beneath, hearing them plop into the decorations below. She worked quickly, steadying herself when she felt the ladder wobble a bit beneath her feet. The star on the top of the tree was just a tiny bit out of her reach and so she leant for it, stretching. The ladder wobbled even more so and she felt it start to move beneath her. ‘Oh!’

      She felt herself fall and braced herself for the impact and the hard, unforgiving floor. But instead, her fall was broken by a solid, reassuring pair of arms.

      Stunned, she looked up to say thank you, but her voice somehow got stuck in her throat.

      This man was nothing like the drunk that had accosted her a moment ago. This man had captivating eyes of cerulean blue, a strong jawline and he smelt just … heavenly! Masculine and invigorating.

      ‘Whoa! Are you mad?’ That voice. The most perfect accent she’d ever heard. Refined. Educated. Even if it was currently scolding her.

      She blushed madly as she stared up into his eyes, her breath catching in her throat. She was embarrassed at having fallen. Ashamed at having been caught up the ladder when she’d been told to get someone to help her and desperately doing her level best to appear normal and not swoon like a heroine in a romance novel. She’d been determined to move to London and start life as a strong, confident, independent woman and yet here she was: it was only her first day at work and she was lying in a man’s arms.

      A very handsome man’s arms! Her cheeks flamed with heat as he easily stood her upright, making sure she was steady before he let her go. When he did, she almost felt disappointed to be out of those arms, but … oh!

      He was tall, almost a head taller than her, well past six foot, and he had the most startling blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was looking her over, assessing her, his gaze questioning.

      She managed to find some words. ‘Thank you, I … shouldn’t have been up there.’ She blushed again, brushing her hands down her clothes as if she were covered in dust and dirt. She wasn’t. She just didn’t know what else to do and she had to do something! Naomi had never been held in a man’s arms like that. Cradled. Protected. Vincent had never held her that way. Not that that was his fault.

      This man was probably used to women blushing in front of him. Women fawning at his feet, unable to string a sentence together.

      He was dressed smartly in what had to be a tailored bespoke suit that fitted his finely toned body to perfection. This man knew how to dress and he dressed well, his clothes accentuating his best features. A red scarf slung casually around his neck highlighted the auburn tones in his hair.

      Still, she wasn’t going to let herself be blown away by a gorgeous man. She knew men like this usually came with health warnings.

       Get involved at your own risk.

      Look at what had happened to her mother, for instance.

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