Emergency at Bayside (5 page)

At least she wasn’t the only one blushing, Meg
realised—Carla was positively beetroot. But then who could blame her? Students had hormones too, and Flynn was a pretty impressive sight for seven-thirty in the morning. Everything about him oozed masculinity—not just his huge, powerful build, but also the husky voice, the spicy tang of cologne, even the hint of legendary strength, added a touch of zest to an otherwise routine morning.

‘You’re looking better than the last time I saw you. How are you feeling?’

‘I’m fine, thank you.’

But Flynn didn’t look convinced. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you back so soon. That was a nasty accident you were involved in.’

‘Which I’m over.’ Meg bristled, unnerved by his scrutiny.

‘Hey, I’m just the doctor.’ Flynn grinned. ‘Still, if it does turn out too soon for you to be back just let me know and I’ll sign you off.’

‘Wouldn’t you just?’ Meg muttered, but Flynn wasn’t listening. Instead he was looking around the room, pulling from the walls half the equipment Meg had only just replaced.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Setting up for my lecture. Where’s Annie?’

‘But I haven’t finished checking resus,’ Meg argued. ‘And Jess said she’d already told you that Annie was off being repaired. Someone,’ Meg said accusingly, ‘apparently used her as a sparring partner.’

‘I did not,’ Flynn said defensively. ‘I was trying to show the interns how to reduce a shoulder.’ He
flashed a smile and Meg knew there and then that he’d get his lecture. ‘Hey, Carla, any chance of rustling me up a coffee and then grabbing the other students? I’d like to get started.’

Only when Carla had willingly dashed off did Flynn speak again. ‘Before you tell me off, I don’t usually use the students as tea girls, but I wanted to get you alone and apologise.’

Meg was caught completely unawares, and in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment at suddenly finding herself alone with him her words came out far sharper than intended. ‘For wrongly accusing me of falling asleep at the wheel or insinuating that I’m a bigot?’

But Flynn just laughed. ‘Feisty, aren’t you? And to think I thought it was the Pethidine!’

Meg sucked in her breath. Damn this man, he really managed to get under her skin. ‘I thought this was supposed to be an apology?’

‘So it is.’

She waited, not quite tapping her foot, but her stance showed her impatience.

‘About Kathy,’ he started. ‘Look, I just went off at the deep end. I was more riled at you falling asleep at the wheel.’ He saw her open her mouth to argue and put his hands up. ‘Or ‘‘allegedly’’ falling asleep. I took Jake and Kathy out for a celebratory drink the other night and had my ear bent about what a wonderful sister you are. I won’t embarrass you by going into detail, but the upshot is I know now that I was way out of order.’

He didn’t look particularly sorry. ‘Is that it?’

Flynn shot her a surprised look. ‘Do you want it written in blood? Tell you what, how about I take you out for a drink or dinner? Show that there’s no hard feelings?’

Sub-clause B, Meg thought quickly as she shook her head. ‘That won’t be necessary, thank you.’ Delicious consultants with an over-supply of confidence and sex appeal were a definite no-no.

‘Oh, come on,’ Flynn said easily. ‘It would save us both a heap of trouble—I’ve got a feeling your sister’s in a matchmaking mood. Maybe we should just get it over with, before she deafens us both singing the other one’s praises.’

‘Are you always so romantic when you ask a woman out, Doctor? Because if the way you’ve just asked me is an indication of your usual approach, it’s no wonder you need my sister to help you.’

Flynn just roared laughing. ‘Is that a no, then?’ he asked as the students started trickling in.

‘Yes,’ Meg muttered blushing to her toes. ‘I mean, yes, it’s a no.’

‘Pity,’ Flynn murmured, and with an easy smile turned his attention to the gathered crowd.

Meg had to hand it to him. Within seconds of starting he had the students and nurses enthralled. BLS, or basic life support, was a subject they would all have covered at college, and on their ward rotations, but here in Emergency, given that it was an almost daily event, they would practically be guaranteed a chance to witness and, if at all possible, practise the life-saving skill.

And Flynn held them in the palm of his hand,
explaining that what they learnt today and in their weeks in Emergency might never be needed in their entire career, depending upon their chosen field. ‘But…’ He paused, those expressive grey eyes working the room, ensuring he had everyone’s attention. ‘Statistically speaking—and I’m not talking about while you’re at work; I’m talking about when you’re at the library or doing the groceries, or dropping a video off at the shop—somewhere in the future, someone in this room will utilise this skill, possibly on a stranger, but maybe on someone you love. And you, as nurses, have a chance of doing it right; have a chance of saving a life. Pretty exciting, huh?’

He grinned at the rapt faces. ‘So how about a practice?’

‘We can’t. Annie’s still being repaired.’ Meg pointed out again.

‘Good.’ Flynn grinned. ‘Then we’ll practise on a human—far more realistic than a doll, don’t you think? Come on, Meg.’

She hesitated—and for more than a brief moment. Had it been Dr Campbell or Jess—anyone, in fact— Meg would have leapt up on the trolley without a second thought. After all, in her six months here she had been strapped to the ECG machine, been plastered, even had blood taken all in the name of practice. It was part and parcel of the job. But it wasn’t Dr Campbell asking her, it was Flynn Kelsey, and lying on the trolley pretending to be a mannequin… Well, suffice it to say there was nothing remotely mannequin-like about the butterflies flying around in her stomach.

‘Come on, Meg,’ Flynn said impatiently. ‘Unless you need a refresher course as well?’

Reminding herself she did this sort of thing all the time, Meg climbed on the trolley and lay back against the pillow, wishing her beastly blush would fade.

‘Now, this patient looks well, as you can see. Her colour’s excellent—quite pink, actually.’ Meg was tempted to take a swipe at him as their audience started laughing. ‘But don’t be fooled. High colour in an unresponsive patient could be an indication of any number of things. Any ideas?’

‘Carbon monoxide poisoning?’ Carla said, and Meg made a mental note to praise her later.

‘Excellent,’ Flynn said warmly. ‘Flats with old heaters, suicide attempts, house fires—all these can cause carbon monoxide poising. The patient might look pink and healthy but in reality they’re exactly the opposite. Okay, so we’ve dragged this poor woman out of her flat, she’s as red as a beetroot and completely unresponsive—so what now?’

‘Check her airway,’ a couple of the students called out.

‘Good start.’ She could feel his fingers on her jaw—firm, warm fingers, Meg noted, squeezing her eyes closed and desperately attempting to relax her face as he gently pulled her chin down. ‘Yep, airway’s clear. If it wasn’t, here in resus obviously I’d use suction. Out on the street it would be with more basic means.’ He held up a finger and the students groaned. ‘Now what?’

‘Check her pulse.’

‘She can have the strongest pulse in medical
history,’ Flynn replied quickly, ‘but if she’s not breathing what is her heart pumping? Certainly not oxygenated blood. Come on, guys—ABC, remember? We’re heading into danger time here; this long without oxygen and you’re starting to look at brain damage. Okay—A for airway, B for breathing. Watch her chest to see if it’s moving.’

Meg felt ten pairs of eyes on her chest and wondered if he expected her to hold her breath to make things more realistic. A distinct impossibility as suddenly her breath was coming out in short, rapid bursts.

‘So, she’s not breathing and I’m feeling for a pulse—which…’ Meg heard the tiniest hint of a laugh in his voice as he placed his fingers on her neck and felt her fast, flickering pulse ‘…is absent. Right, because she’s an adult I’m going to tilt her neck to open the airway; on an infant you wouldn’t do this,’ he added, sliding a hand under her neck and jerking her head backwards. ‘Babies’ necks are shorter and straighter. In an adult pinch the nostrils, so all the air you breathe in doesn’t escape. Again it’s different for a baby. In that instance you would place your mouth over both the nose and mouth. Anyway—’ he coughed slightly ‘—this isn’t a child, this is a full-grown woman. So we tilt the neck, pinch the nostrils and give two effective inflations.’

She could feel his fingers around her nose, gently pinching her nostrils together. One hand was pulling her mouth open and Meg realised with alarm she could feel him moving closer, feel his hot breath on her cheeks. Opening her eyes in alarm, Meg found herself looking into the deep pools of his. Surely he
wasn’t going to actually do it? This was a practice, for heaven’s sake!

But before she could react, register a protest, even if she had wanted to, he had moved his face and given two fast breaths into mid-air, just as any professional would. But there was nothing,
nothing
very professional about the sudden sharp shift in tempo, the crackling awareness that made every touch, every tiny movement send a massive voltage of charged energy tearing through her body. He might just as well have grabbed the defibrillator beside him and charged it to two hundred joules.

‘Right.’ His voice was perfectly normal. ‘Now we can get some of that oxygenated blood pumping through her system. Feel for the bottom half of the sternum and place the heel of your hand on the chest. Very importantly, remember your own strength. By now you’ll be pumping with adrenaline yourself, and you don’t want to crack the ribcage before you’ve started.’ Mercifully, he removed his hands, then turned to his audience. ‘Obviously you never practise massage on a person, so we’ll have to wait for Annie to fully recuperate before you all have a turn. But if there’s a cardiac arrest in progress in resus and you feel up to it ask one of the trained staff if you can have a go. Nothing beats first-hand experience.’

The BLS demonstration might have been finished, but Meg’s questionable hell wasn’t over yet. The lecture went on for ages, with the students learning— courtesy of Meg’s neck—the finer points of cricothyroid pressure to assist the doctor during intubation. Her limbs were also subjected to the clumsy students’
attempts to place her in the recovery position. All in all, by the time Flynn had finished, and Meg was wearing a blood pressure cuff and possibly the same hard collar she had worn for her accident, despite all her earlier good intentions she wasn’t in the best of moods.

‘Can I get up now?’ she asked rather indignantly when the students rapidly dispersed for their fifteen-minute tea break.

Flynn roared with laughter. ‘I’d better give you a hand.’ Looking down at her, he grinned. ‘A certain
déjà vu
, don’t you think?’

‘I’d rather not be reminded, thank you.’ Taking his offered hand, she let him sit her up, then ripped the blood pressure cuff off as Flynn undid the neck collar. ‘Hold still. Some of your hair has got stuck in the Velcro. Here, hold your hair up.’ He took her hand and guided it to the pile of curls he had unceremoniously dumped on her head.

‘Ow,’ Meg squealed as he ripped open the fastening and took half her hairline with it in the process.

‘Sorry,’ Flynn muttered, but he didn’t sound it in the slightest. ‘Sorry,’ he said again, but this time with more conviction.

Her acceptance died on her lips as she looked up into his eyes. The humour and arrogance had gone; instead his eyes were suddenly serious, and the personal space he had so haplessly invaded suddenly felt inviting and strangely familiar. For Meg there was no question of not moving towards him, no thought of anything other than their lips meeting, a tender yet definite need that pulled them closer.

It was, quite simply, a kiss that had to be.

‘Just as I thought,’ he murmured, gently pulling away. ‘Most kissable.’

‘You shouldn’t have done that.’ Confused, embarrassed, Meg stood up.

‘I didn’t sense much resistance.’ The same easy smile was back, and Meg was sure he was laughing at her, positive that he had kissed her just because he could. Just because she had let him.

‘It was an accident,’ Meg retorted, furious with him, but more so with herself for succumbing so easily.

Flynn laughed. ‘We’re in the right room for it, then.’

An uncomfortable silence followed—at least it was for Meg; Flynn didn’t seem remotely bothered and made no effort to break it. He was probably, Meg thought angrily, used to necking with willing nurses at inappropriate moments. Used to endless reams of willing woman prepared to jump for his attention, happy to share him around so long as they had their moment in the sun with him.

Well, gorgeous he might be, and sexy and irresistible too, Meg thought reluctantly, but if Flynn thought he was going to use her to boost his already inflated ego then he had another think coming. He might have got away with a quick kiss when she wasn’t paying attention, but she wasn’t going to let down her guard again.

No way.

From somewhere outside a car was sounding its horn, loud enough to drag Meg back to reality, and
she set about clearing away the inordinate amount of equipment Flynn had used for his demonstration, determined not to let him see how his teasing kiss had affected her.

‘Meg, look, maybe we should…’ The car horn broke into whatever he was about to say and Meg realised that she was frowning.

Flynn noticed it too. ‘Something wrong?’

‘I don’t know.’

Cars tooted all the time, but there was something urgent about this hooting, something forcing Meg’s attention. It was nothing she could explain.

Not logically anyway.

Without further explanation Meg swiftly made her way outside at the same time as Mike, the porter. The car was tooting incessantly now, and Meg broke into a run. Pulling open the door, she looked at the terrified and shocked face of a young woman, her large pregnant bump immediately obvious.

‘I’m bleeding.’

Looking down, Meg swallowed as she watched the bright patch of blood spreading over her dress.