Gold Coast Angels: Bundle of Trouble. Fiona Lowe

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      With that in mind, back on her first day she’d been busy concentrating on preparing a dressing pack by a patient’s bed, readying to check the skin edges, where his finger had been stitched back in place. As she had been mentally checking off all the items she required, she’d suddenly heard a deep and booming voice behind her saying, ‘Hello, Mr Benjamin.’

      Startled, she’d swung around fast, completely forgetting she’d been holding an open container of iodine. The sudden movement had propelled the brown liquid out of the bottle, sending it flying up into the air where it had paused for a perilous moment—mocking her and her total lack of control over its trajectory. Gravity had pulled it down fast and it had landed on Mr Stanley, plastic surgeon, and, to all intents and purposes, her new boss.

      As the indelible dark stain had oozed down his striped shirt, his crystal-clear green eyes had widened in surprise.

      ‘Oh, God, I’m s-so s-sorry,’ she stammered. ‘Of course I’ll replace it.’ Juggling this month’s bills to pay for what was probably a two-hundred-dollar shirt would involve robbing Peter to pay Paul—otherwise known as raiding her car fund yet again.

      He raised his head—his neatly clipped and styled jet-black curls barely moving—and he smiled. ‘This is the third hit this shirt’s taken today. My wife frowns whenever I wear it as apparently it’s not my colour and I shouldn’t be trusted to shop alone,’ he said with good humour. ‘My baby daughter added her opinion by sicking up on it this morning just as I was racing out the door, and now this. I think you may have done me a favour…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.’

      ‘Kefes. Chloe Kefes. I’m new today.’

      Mr Benjamin, bless him, chimed in with, ‘She’s been taking excellent care of me, Doc.’

      ‘I’m sure she has.’ Luke tilted his head in contemplation. ‘Our obstetrician’s surname was Kefes. He works here at Gold Coast City and I think my wife secretly fell in love with him when he delivered Amber.’ He laughed and pulled out his phone, showing her a photo of a newborn baby in a bath.

      With huge, dark eyes and a thatch of black hair, the baby, like all newborns, looked unmistakably like her father. Chloe thought of a baby lost in the mists of time and she teetered on the edge of darkness.

      ‘This is Amber an hour after Nick delivered her,’ he said fondly. ‘Believe me, I was in awe of him as well. I don’t suppose he’s any relation?’

      She grabbed onto the lifeline of a conversation about her brother—one far removed from babies—and said, ‘Actually, Nick’s my brother and he is pretty awe-inspiring.’

      Nick had sacrificed a lot and worked really hard to get to where he was today and she loved hearing how well regarded he was in the community.

      Luke’s smile widened. ‘Caring professions must run in your family. Did you grow up in a medical household?’

      She shook her head, not wanting to go anywhere near that mess of tangled and fraught emotions. ‘Are you sure you’re okay about your shirt?’

      Again his ready smile graced his tanned cheeks. ‘Please don’t worry about it. Chances are Anna will probably write you a thank-you note for making it unwearable.’ He turned his attention to his patient. ‘So, Mr Benjamin, I just want to have a look at your fingers and see if my handiwork has counteracted the impact of the circular saw.’

      That was the last time she’d seen him until today. Soon after the iodine debacle, a memo had been sent out from medical administration stating that Luke Stanley was on sabbatical for a year. At the time she hadn’t thought anything of it. Consultants came and went, and her job was all about the patients. But now, looking at him, she wondered if he’d been on sabbatical in a place that lacked sunshine. The man who once could have been glibly described as tall, dark, tanned, charming and with a ready smile looked pale, tired and tense.

      Keri smiled as she stepped back from the hug. ‘I saw your name was back on the surgery list and I was wondering when you’d come up and say hi.’ She extended her arm. ‘You remember Kate, but I don’t think you’ve met Chloe.’

      Kate raised her hand in greeting. ‘Welcome back, Luke.’

      ‘Thanks.’ The gruff word lacked grace.

      Then eyes that Chloe remembered as having been bright and full of fun swung a dull gaze at her. No sign of recognition registered in their mossy dark depths. He gave her a curt nod of acknowledgment and an unruly curl fell across a slanted black eyebrow, highlighting his general dishevelment.

      The inky stubble on his jaw had passed the three-day requirement of fashionable growth and now cried out for the tidying touch of a razor. Instead of a crisp shirt tucked into a pair of tailored suit trousers, he wore a dark red polo shirt and crumpled chinos that looked as if he’d slept in them. Perhaps he was jet-lagged and had just got off the plane?

      He swung his attention back to Keri. ‘I’ve got a complicated surgery this week on a child the foundation’s brought over from Bali. He’s got shocking scarring on his neck and face due to the burn of hot oil and he can’t close his mouth or move his head. He’ll need one-on-one nursing and I want him nursed here by a plastics nurse, not in Paediatrics.’

      Keri nodded. ‘What day are we talking?’

      ‘Thursday.’

      The unit manager consulted the nursing roster on the notice-board. ‘Chloe’s rostered on through Sunday.’

      ‘Good,’ Luke said, sounding weary and resigned, as if everything was an effort but at least one job had been sorted out.

      No, not good at all. A mild flutter of anxiety batted Chloe’s chest. She nursed adults and she didn’t like where this conversation was heading at all.

      Luke’s gaze raked her again—a desolate look in his eyes calling up a sadness in her that she knew only too well. A sadness she’d learned to avoid thinking about. As she tried to shake off the melancholy his glance had elicited, she caught a momentary flash of something in his eyes that lit up the brilliant green.

      A tingle shot up her spine, leaving a trail of unsettling effervescence. A tingle she barely remembered and had only ever associated with pain and regret. A tingle that had absolutely no place in this situation. He was married with a child and she wasn’t the sort of woman who would ever break up a marriage. Never. Ever.

      She tried to throw off the sensation. Ethics aside, she didn’t even know him, so why a flutter of attraction? Her body, unlike her brain, must have its wires utterly crossed. Empathy was the only thing she should be feeling for this man—empathy generated by the sadness in his eyes—nothing else. Definitely not lust.

      ‘…at eight in the operating theatre, Chloe.’

      The way his tongue rolled over her name shocked her back into the conversation and with her heart thumping hard she threw a beseeching look at Keri. ‘Jackie has way more experience than I do working with children.’

      ‘She does,’ Keri agreed, ‘but she’s not rostered on and you are.’

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