The Rebel Surgeon's Proposal (4 page)

‘For once it seems all the talk about changes in the orthopaedic department and rumours of a high-flying new surgeon coming here were true.’ Dee closed her locker door and sat down on the bench, clearly settling herself in for a good chat. ‘I heard that Maurice Goodwin snapped Luke up after he was left a man short on his team when the last registrar, Adrian Lomax, left under a cloud after that botched operation.’

Like everyone else, Francesca had heard the talk, but she seldom paid much attention to hospital rumour. With Dee confirming that the news about the new surgeon was true…and that it referred to Luke…she knew that he had trained in London under the renowned orthopaedic maestro Professor James Fielding-Smythe.

‘Luke must be an amazing young surgeon if the brilliant but curmudgeonly old professor fought so hard to keep him and gave him such a glowing reference.’

Dee’s words confirmed Francesca’s own thoughts and she felt a flash of pride at Luke’s achievements. ‘I’m not surprised. Luke
was always bright and hard-working,’ she allowed, removing her tunic and trousers before pulling on her jeans and fleece top.

‘Some people are commenting about Luke being one of the town’s notorious Devlins,’ Dee remarked, stirring Francesca’s temper and protective instincts.

‘They have no right to judge him! Luke is nothing like his no-good father was, or his older brothers.’ She struggled to hide her emotion. ‘Luke and his mother suffered much at Mick Devlin’s hands.’

Dee nodded, satisfaction evident in her voice. ‘I’m glad to hear you speak up for him, Francesca. I don’t like rumour and careless talk any more than you do. And it makes my decision both easy and right,’ she added, causing Francesca to frown in confusion as she sat down to lace up her trainers.

‘What decision?’

‘I’ve made some changes to the schedule and I’ve moved you to cover the fracture clinic tomorrow. Is that OK?’

‘Sure,’ Francesca agreed, used to working in different sections of the department. All the staff rotated duties to keep their skills up to date and prevent themselves becoming stale, and Francesca enjoyed the variety. ‘I don’t mind at all.’

Dee’s smile widened. ‘Excellent. Because I was talking to Luke earlier, when he looked round the unit, and he specifically asked if he could work with you.’

‘He did?’ This time Francesca could not disguise her blush, or her surprise that Luke had done such a thing. ‘I wonder why’ Tying the laces on the second trainer, she sat back, puzzled. ‘Maybe he just wants someone he already knows on his first day at work.’

‘You think so?’

Francesca glanced round at the scepticism in Dee’s voice. ‘I don’t know what else it could be.’

‘Don’t you? I’m sure Luke will enlighten you soon enough.’ The older woman chuckled, as if privy to some secret Francesca had yet to unravel. Rising to her feet and picking up her bag, Dee headed towards the door. ‘See you tomorrow, doll.’

Confused, Francesca watched her leave, thankful that no one else had been in the room to witness the strange conversation. Immediately her thoughts returned to Luke, where they had been ever since she had bumped into him so unexpectedly in the hospital corridor. She still couldn’t believe that he was back in Strathlochan. For good, he had said.

After lunch, Francesca had felt nervous and self-conscious introducing Luke to some of her colleagues—soon to be
his
colleagues—wondering what they would think at seeing them together. But no one had said anything, and Luke had been professional and courteous. Even so, Francesca had remained conscious of the awareness and tension that simmered between them. Dee had happily agreed to Luke’s request to familiarise himself with the radiology unit and, showing him around, Francesca had been impressed with his interest and knowledge.

By the very nature of their jobs, the orthopaedic and radiology departments worked closely together and they shared a wing on the ground floor of the hospital. The realisation that she was going to be seeing a lot of Luke in the days and weeks ahead had occupied much of her attention all afternoon. As had the knowledge that she had somehow found herself agreeing to meet him when her shift ended. There was much for them to talk about, he’d told her. She had not stopped wondering what he had meant. And she also wanted to know the other reason he had come home. Upstairs in the canteen he had said there had been three things that had brought him home. His mother, the job and…what? She couldn’t explain why, but Francesca felt jittery and fizzing with nerves.

Seeing him again had been amazing, rousing all manner
of exciting and scary feelings inside her, but the knowledge that it wasn’t a one-off, that he wasn’t passing through, that he was back, supposedly for good, and that they would be working together had really thrown her for a loop. Part of her was wary, uncertain. Another part of her welcomed his return with open arms. Even with the ten-year gap, and her sixteen-year-old self’s inner sense of betrayal at his abrupt departure, she felt close to him, comfortable with him, as if it had been yesterday they had last spoken and not a decade ago.

Despite the new friendships she had formed over the three years since her return to Strathlochan, in particular with Annie, Ginger, Callie, Gina and their partners, she always held part of herself back and felt a certain distance from them. Luke was the only person with whom she had ever felt natural and understood. She welcomed the opportunity of experiencing that again. But the sexual chemistry, her awareness of him and desire for him, were scary complications she could do without.

She didn’t do trust, didn’t do commitment, didn’t do intimacy, and she had long ago learned not to need or want anyone, to depend on no one but herself. There had only ever been one person in her life she had allowed herself to trust, one person who had ever seen her for the person she was inside…until he had vanished from her life, leaving her truly alone. Luke Devlin. Now he was back, as suddenly as he had gone, and a tormenting voice nagged at her that he could disappear again just as easily.

Francesca glanced at her watch, feeling a prickle of fearful excitement and confusion—she was due to meet him in five minutes. Her heart in her mouth, feeling every throb of her racing pulse, she stood up, closed her locker, hooked the strap of her canvas bag over her shoulder and left the room. Reaction set in, the knowledge of where she was going turning her legs to rubber and making every step closer to Luke seem a dangerous act of folly.

Walking along the corridor, she caught sight of her reflection in a large glass partition. She had never been a girly girl, had never fussed with fashion or make-up, but she suddenly wished she was wearing something more appealing and feminine than her warm fleece top in battleship grey and her faded jeans with the frayed rip across one thigh. Her thick plait, untidy after a day at work, hung down her back. All at once she felt like the awkward teenager of ten years ago, the one who had never fitted in and who had always felt alone.

As she headed towards the main entrance, she had no more time to think or worry because all she could see and focus on was Luke, standing inside the doorway. A small package held in one hand, he had a smile on his face as he chatted to Donald Orr, one of the hospital’s longest-serving and most popular security men. Her steps faltered as she took in the sight of Luke. He’d added a leather jacket to the outfit he’d worn earlier, giving him even more of the masculine, bad-boy air that was so appealing and exciting. Experiencing a strange fluttering inside her, she took a shaky breath and began to close the gap between them.

‘A fine woman, your mother,’ Donald Orr commented with sincerity and affection. ‘Salt of the earth.’

That the security guard was one of those in the town who had always been supportive filled Luke with appreciation. ‘She certainly is.’

‘And now you’re to be joining us here at the hospital.’ The rugged, balding man beamed a gap-toothed smile as he shook his hand. ‘Right proud your mother was when you qualified as a doctor. She must be delighted to have you home.’

‘It’s good to be back.’

And not only to be closer to his mother, who wasn’t getting any younger, Luke allowed, a prickle at the back of his neck
alerting him to the presence of the main reason for his return to Strathlochan. He turned his head, watching as Francesca crossed the broad foyer of the hospital’s main entrance towards him. The ever-present spark of desire flared within him as he studied the way her faded jeans hugged those long, shapely legs. They should be illegal, he decided, noting the ragged rip in the soft denim across one thigh, which allowed a tantalising glimpse of pale skin with each step she took. The grey fleece top was loose and masked her figure, but its colour enhanced the mesmerising shade of her eyes.

Not wanting to be rude, Luke murmured a hasty farewell to Donald, then stepped forward to greet Francesca as she approached. A rush of emotion swept through him as he looked at her, appreciating her understated, natural beauty. Aware of where they were, and of her sensibilities, he didn’t touch her, as he yearned to do, but he was close enough to be teased by her subtle flowery fragrance.

‘Hi.’ She halted, glancing around nervously before looking up at him.

‘Hi,’ he replied, seeing the confusion in her eyes, the mix of pleasure and anxiety. Also the weariness. ‘You look tired…Busy afternoon?’

She fell into step with him as they headed out of the door, both of them waving to Donald, who smiled and gave them a thumbs-up in response. ‘There was a full list of appointments, plus some extras sent through from A and E. How about you?’

‘After completing all the hospital formalities of the paperwork, getting my ID and so on, I had a meeting with Maurice Goodwin and met some of the team. Then I spent some time with Ma before coming back to meet you.’

Having discovered that Francesca came to work by bike, he had walked back to the hospital from his mother’s, carrying
with him the bag of goodies she had sent. They reached the covered bicycle shed and he waited for her to unlock the security tag. She refused his offer to wheel the bike, so he walked beside her as they crossed the expanse of the car park, out onto the street and turned down the hill towards the town. The April day had been warm, but the sun had disappeared in the late afternoon and there was a chill in the air. Now they were away from the hospital, he edged closer, taking her free hand in his, linking their fingers, relieved when she didn’t pull away.

Even the simplest of touches fired his blood but he marshalled his self-control. Wanting her to feel relaxed and at ease in his company, he kept things impersonal and they talked about inconsequential things. Francesca’s voice was like a physical caress along his nerve endings. He could listen to her all day. Her voice was feminine with a low smoky tone that complemented the soft burr of her Scottish accent—an accent he himself hadn’t lost after ten years away. He wanted to spend all the time with her he could, to take her out for a nice dinner, but he knew she was tired, on top of which he was wary of moving too fast too soon and scaring her off.

‘Would you like to pick up a pizza or something?’ he asked instead.

‘Sure. That would be good.’

Before long, a pizza box added to his packages, they arrived at Francesca’s rented ground-floor flat situated in a converted old house in a leafy side street near one of the town’s large parks. It was a long way away from the part of town she had grown up in, he noted, understanding the relevance of her choice and wondering if it had been a conscious decision on her part.

Following her inside, he looked around with interest. It was not where he had imagined her staying, but the small, open-plan living space was clean and bright. There were a few per
sonal touches…some colourful scatter cushions and throws on the old but comfortable armchairs and sofa, a few animal pictures on the walls, but no family photographs. Not that he had expected those. Any spare wall space was taken up with shelves filled with an abundance of books covering everything from biographies and environmental sciences to a wide range of fiction.

‘This is a great place,’ he commented, watching as she fetched plates and glasses of water from the galley-style kitchen.

Her nose wrinkled endearingly as she made a dissatisfied face. ‘It’ll do, for now. It was all I could afford when I first came back to town but at least I have a view of the hills and, being on the ground floor, I have access to the garden—tiny as it is.’

‘You’re planning on moving?’

‘One day,’ she confided, handing him a cutter for slicing the pizza.

Luke heard the wistful note in her voice. ‘You still want your cottage in the woods?’ he asked, as he divided up the food.

‘You remember that?’

He looked up to see her watching him, her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Sure. I remember everything about you, Chessie.’

The hint of a blush pinkened her freckle-dusted cheekbones, but it was the sudden wariness in her expression that had him backing off and changing the subject. There would be time, he hoped, in the days and weeks ahead to tell her about the house, to take her to the home he had bought on impulse four years ago, the home for which he now had such high hopes.

They talked about work and the hospital as they ate. He learned about some of his soon-to-be colleagues, well aware that Francesca confined herself to general details, unsurprised that she refused to indulge in gossip. The closest she came was when he asked about Olivia Barr, the A and E nurse who had abandoned his mother eight weeks ago.

‘Olivia has a reputation around the hospital,’ she allowed with evident disapproval.

Fascinated and aroused by the way in which Francesca finished her final slice of pizza and then sensuously licked her fingers clean, it took him a moment to concentrate on the conversation. ‘What kind of reputation?’

‘As a man-chaser.’ A hint of mischief twinkled in silver-grey eyes. ‘I’m sure you’ll be meeting her very soon.’

‘I hope not. Nurse Barr will, too, when I tell her what I think of the way she neglected my mother,’ he added, smiling at the gleam of satisfaction Francesca failed to mask.