His Diamond Like No Other (Mills & Boon Medical) (2 page)

‘Absolutely,’ Anthea agreed, and a few people even gave Jane a smattering round of applause. She felt highly self-conscious standing in front of everyone but forced herself to smile and nod. Standing in front of a lecture room full of people wasn’t her favourite thing to do but she was forcing herself to get used to it. What made today’s experience even more unnerving was the fact that she was so highly aware of Sean’s presence.

He was standing at the front of the room as well, waiting to present an interesting case for discussion before they all headed out to begin the ward round. When Luc had finished successfully embarrassing her by listing all her accomplishments, as well as sharing one or two small anecdotes of the time they’d worked together in Paris several years ago, Jane went to move to the side of the room but somehow managed to trip over her own feet and slam straight into Sean.

His hands immediately came around her waist, steadying her. Jane was minutely aware of the way his warmth seemed to surround her, of the way his firm muscled torso pressed against her shoulder, of the way his scent danced about her senses, creating a heady combination and one she was far from immune to.

A few of the people in the room chuckled, not unkindly, and Jane quickly collected herself, shifting awkwardly, wanting to put distance between them, but instead she ended up staring directly into Sean’s eyes. Everything in the room seemed to freeze. She could hear the flutter of her eyelashes as she blinked once, then twice, the pounding of her heart against her chest and the way his breath seemed to mingle with hers.

‘Steady on.’ His deep voice was filled with concern, or so it seemed, but that couldn’t be right. Sean didn’t like her. Sean had never liked her. During the course of his marriage to her sister, they’d rarely spoken.

‘Er...sorry,’ Jane muttered, the world around her returning to normal speed. It felt as though she’d been pressed up against Sean’s warm body for quite some time, although only a few seconds had passed. She jerked from his hands and he dropped them instantly, mildly surprised, as though he hadn’t even realised he’d been touching her.

‘And now Sean’s going to present us with a few case studies, which I’d like everyone to pay close attention to during the ward round,’ Luc announced, as Jane shifted towards the rear of the room, leaning against the wall, desperate to hide herself away in an attempt to recover her equilibrium.

She watched as Sean stepped forward to talk, using a small remote to produce a radiographic image on the audio-visual screen that was linked to his computer tablet. How could she have tripped like that? Fallen against
him
? She tried to swallow over her dry throat, surprised to find she was actually trembling from the encounter with him. He was
Sean
, for goodness’ sake, and he didn’t like her.

She breathed in, needing to gain some level of control over her senses, needing to concentrate on what Sean was saying, but all she was conscious of when she breathed in was the lingering spicy scent she’d always equated with him. It was the same cologne he’d worn all those years ago when they’d first met. She’d been nothing more than a braces-wearing student of seventeen, studying furiously for her final school exams, when Sean had married her sister.

The two had met in the emergency department at a hospital in Sydney. Daina had been holidaying with friends, partying too hard, and had badly twisted her ankle. Sean had been the intern who had treated her. Daina had left the hospital with a perfectly bandaged foot, a pair of crutches and a date.

After a whirlwind romance Daina had eventually told Jane that she wasn’t coming back to live in Adelaide because she was married. Sean had accompanied his new wife back to Adelaide, met his new sister-in-law for the first time and casually suggested that with the subjects she was studying she could definitely get into medical school.

Even though Jane had been six months shy of her eighteenth birthday, Daina, who was her legal guardian, had upped and left, returning to Sydney with her new, handsome prize of a husband. Jane had seriously hoped that Sean would be able to fix Daina, that he’d realise she was suffering from some sort of multiple personality disorder, that he’d be able to get her the help she needed. But, almost six years later, after giving birth to a child she hadn’t wanted, Daina had abandoned him and taken off. Three years after that, she was dead.

Jane was unable to believe the pain Daina had caused her, not only after their parents’ death but prior to it as well. In fact, it had been Daina who had caused the car accident that had robbed Jane of her parents at the age of thirteen. For years Jane had bottled up the resentment she’d felt towards her older sibling and she’d thought that coming home to Adelaide, making an effort to get to know Spencer as much as Sean would allow, she’d hopefully be able to put her past pain to rest.

‘Jane?
Jane?
’

Her eyes snapped open to find Sean standing before her, the rest of the medical staff who had been attending the pre-ward round meeting filing out of the small conference room.

‘Would you care to join us?’ His tone was filled with derision but she watched his eyes widen slightly as she carefully lifted her glasses and dabbed at her eyes, annoyed with herself for not paying closer attention during the meeting and for tearing up in front of
him
.

‘Are you all right?’ His tone was still gruff but there was also a hint of confused concern.

Jane sniffed and settled her glasses on her nose. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re not. I can hear it in your voice.’

‘Leave it.’ She went to step around him but he moved and blocked her way.

‘You look like Daina when you do that. That “don’t mess with me” look.’

Jane tilted her head and glared at him. ‘Then remind me not to do it again.’ She moved quickly, effectively sidestepping him, and followed the last of the staff out of the room.

It wasn’t exactly the beginning she’d hoped for but, really, had she honestly expected Sean to accept her presence, especially when she clearly did remind him, in small ways, of his deceased wife?

* * *

‘It’s no use, Luc,’ she told her friend a week later as they sat in the hospital cafeteria, enjoying a quick morning cuppa before the hecticness of their day descended. ‘Sean has made it quite clear over the past week that he resents me being here.’

‘Nonsense.’ Luc dunked a piece of croissant in his coffee before eating it. ‘He’s just...getting used to the idea, that’s all.’

Jane levelled him with a stare of disbelief and Luc had the audacity to laugh.

‘It’s true, Jane. When you first mentioned to me, all those years ago when we worked in Paris, that a man called Sean Booke was married to your sister, I thought nothing of it.’

‘Because back then you had no idea who he was,’ Jane pointed out.

‘True, but then years later when I returned to Adelaide, who do I find myself working with? None other than your Sean Booke.’ Luc finished off his croissant then spread his hands wide. ‘It’s one of the reasons why I encouraged you to come back to Adelaide, to get to know him. Sure, your sister has passed away but family is family. Plus, he’s a nice guy, Jane.’

‘To everyone but me.’

‘So you admit he’s good with the patients?’

Jane looked into her almost empty cup as she thought back to the way she’d watched Sean interact with the patients in the ward and she had to admit he was an excellent doctor. He wouldn’t rush the kids if they had something to say; instead, he’d sit on their beds and listen patiently while they talked. In clinic, she had seen several of his patients coming out of his consulting room with wide, beaming smiles on their faces, their parents looking equally as pleased.

‘Of course he’s good with the patients,’ she told Luc, ‘otherwise you wouldn’t have him working in your department.’

‘Very true. I only employ the best—which is the other reason you’re here because even without the prospect of getting to know your nephew, I still would have hounded you to work here. That was just my trump card.’

‘I know.’ Jane finished the rest of her drink, grimacing a little at the coolness of the liquid. ‘We’d better go or we’ll be late for the pre-ward round meeting.’ They both stood and placed their cups on the dirty dishes rack before heading towards the ward. ‘Will Sean be presenting another interesting case this week?’

‘Yes. Why? Do you have an interesting case you’d like to share?’

‘Not at this stage. I was just curious as to whether Sean always did the presenting or not.’

‘He organises it so if you do have an interesting case, you’ll need to speak to him.’

Jane filed that information away as they entered the room. This time, when Sean stood at the front of the staff at the meeting, discussing the noteworthy aspects of a newly admitted patient, Jane listened intently. She did her best to ignore the way his deep, smooth tones washed over her, and the way he gesticulated smoothly with his hands, pointing out the different methods of treatment that were projected onto the screen. He had lovely hands, she realised, gentle, caring hands, big and strong and able to support. The memory of him placing those hands at her waist the previous week, steadying her after she’d tripped, burst into her mind and it took all her willpower to dismiss it. She was here to concentrate on her patients, not on Sean Booke’s hands!

During the following week Jane watched Sean help a ten-year-old boy come to a level of understanding with the diagnosis of leukaemia. She found him in the ward playroom, sitting on a chair that was way too small for him, colouring in with three other children, all of them laughing together. She also saw him agonising over the correct treatment plan for one of his older patients, a fifteen-year-old girl, Mya, whose lungs weren’t responding to the usual asthma medications.

‘How’s Mya today?’ Jane asked Sean a few days later. She’d entered the nurses’ station to write up some case notes and within a matter of minutes, with nurses heading off to tend to their patients, she’d found herself alone with Sean at the desk. Having been at the hospital for two and a half weeks now, and having had several professional patient-related conversations with Sean without any mention of their shared personal connections, Jane felt more confident in enquiring about his patient. What she still found difficult to ignore was the subtle spicy scent surrounding him, one that definitely held appeal.

‘Still not stabilising.’ Sean shook his head slowly, before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. ‘I’ve tried everything. She responds to treatment for one, sometimes two days and then the symptoms return.’

‘She’s not reacting as expected to the corticosteroids? Has this happened before?’

Sean opened his eyes and handed Jane Mya’s file. ‘If you can find something I’ve missed, be my guest.’ He slumped forward onto the desk, resting his head on his hands. He was tired, bewildered and very concerned about his patient. He’d consulted with the respiratory specialists yesterday afternoon but it was becoming clear that the corticosteroids might be doing more damage than good.

‘Were you here all night?’ Jane’s words were quiet and when he lifted his head it was to find her watching him with professional empathy.

‘Arrived around three this morning, as you would have seen in the notes.’

‘But you didn’t head over to the residential wing? Catch a few hours’ extra sleep?’

Sean was too exhausted to try and look for any sort of ulterior motive for Jane’s questions. ‘I was worried about Mya. I did have a shower and change not too long ago, hoping to clear my mind a little and for the solution to miraculously present itself, but that hasn’t happened.’

Jane smiled, a soft, delicate smile that softened her green eyes. Sean stared at her for a long moment, amazed at the difference in her features, especially the lack of that wariness in her gaze that had often been present whenever they’d been in the same room together. This morning she’d pulled her long, luscious locks back from her face into a simple ponytail, her fringe neatly combed over her forehead. She wore a long-sleeved cotton top, which hung low over an ankle-length black and white striped skirt. She was neat and tidy, calm and professional, and yet this morning there seemed to be something different about her, and it wasn’t just the soft smile she was giving him.

She nodded. ‘Sometimes it is impossible to sleep, especially when there’s a patient puzzle to solve.’

Sean couldn’t believe the way her calm, peaceful tone seemed to wash over him, alleviating some of the stress that had built up in his trapezius. He forced himself to look away from her, not wanting to be drawn in by Jane Diamond and her pretty smiles. While it was true that he’d been impressed with the way she’d settled into hospital life over the past weeks, relating to staff and patients in an easy, professional manner, she also represented a connection to his past and it was a past he’d locked securely away and didn’t really fancy revisiting.

‘And with your puzzle, I’d like to offer a suggestion, if I may,’ she continued, watching as he angled his neck from side to side, trying to work out some of the kinks in his muscles. She had to resist the urge to stand behind him and gently massage his shoulders, as she would naturally offer to do for any of her other colleagues. Sean was different and with him it was imperative she keep her professional distance.

‘What’s that?’ he prompted, and it was only then she realised she was staring at him.

‘Er...sorry.’ Slightly flustered, she looked down at Mya’s notes, adjusted her glasses, even though they were already perfectly positioned on her nose, and cleared her throat. ‘Well, a few months ago, I was in Argentina at a paediatric conference—’

‘I remember. You mentioned it on your first day here.’

‘Oh? Good. Well, anyway, I bumped into a colleague who’s presently conducting a research study into a new drug for asthma sufferers, especially ones who are dependent upon or having reactions to corticosteroids.’

Sean sat up a little straighter in his chair. ‘Is that Dr Aloysius Markum?’

‘It is.’