‘Electricity is cut off on a daily basis so the people rely on power from domestic-size gas containers for cooking or to heat their homes. But because the canisters are such poor quality, explosions are an everyday occurrence, and children are usually the victims.’
‘It sounds like...rewarding work,’ she managed weakly, studying his expression of grim determination.
‘It is,’ he agreed.
And it was essentially Max Van Berg. On the occasions she’d been to Silvertrees, Evie had found he was the surgeon every trauma doctor wanted to hear was on call for any orthoplastic cases with trauma victims from the A&E. She certainly wasn’t surprised that MSF had snapped up a surgeon of Max’s calibre.
‘I wish every surgeon had your desire to help,’ she murmured.
‘Problems?’
Why was she hesitating? What did she have to lose?
‘It that why you were leaning on the glass, staring so grimly into the machine when I first came into the lounge?’ he enquired. ‘Because it wasn’t for your lost muffin.’
Evie wrinkled her nose. He moved to the coffee machine as she followed on autopilot, refusing to let him intimidate her and trying to ignore the defined muscles that bunched and shifted beneath his black tee shirt.
‘I was just thinking about my patient,’ she hedged.
‘Go on.’
She smiled as his interest was instantly piqued. She could have taken a bet on that. Anything patient-related and it had Max’s attention.
‘Like I said, nothing I can’t handle.’
‘I imagine you can,’ he repeated. ‘We’ve worked together a couple of times now, Dr Parker. You’re focused and you’re dedicated to your patients but you don’t make rash decisions. I respect your opinion as a psychiatrist, Doctor, and I like that.’
She stared at him in delight until the happiness turned to heat as he pinned her down with an intense gaze of his own.
‘I like that a lot,’ he repeated, his voice a low rumble. ‘In plastics particularly, it’s important to me to know who wants my help, and who truly needs it to turn their life around. Sometimes it’s easy to tell but other times it isn’t so clear-cut.’
Caught in his regard, she felt the atmosphere between them shift slightly. Heat began to rise in her face, travelling down her neck, through her chest until it pooled at the apex between her legs. This was the effect Max always had on her. Sometimes, the way he looked at her almost convinced her he was attracted to her, too.
But that was just fanciful thinking, wasn’t it? She’d give anything to know what he was thinking, right now.
‘Thank you, I—’
‘So, how’s she doing?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Your patient with the significant breast asymmetry.’
Another thrill fizzed through Evie. Had he been watching her?
She hastily reprimanded herself. It was the cases Max was interested in, not the fact that she was on them. She shouldn’t be surprised that he knew the patient. She would bet he kept track of all the cases that came through his department—he was that kind of conscientious surgeon.
‘That is why you were staring so distractedly into the vending machine, I take it? I also heard you’ve been reading the Riot Act to one of my colleagues. Are you always this passionate about your patients, Dr Parker?’
Evie blinked, suddenly thrown. His guess might be off, but his assessment of her state of mind was surprisingly on the money.
She had always got deeply involved with her patients, it was true. Her work at the centre had always been more than a job; it had been a calling. But he was right, this case felt personal. She needed to win this battle and help this young girl change her life.
Because this week Evie had received the worst news of her life. Her own body was failing her and soon she might not even be able to help herself, let alone anybody else.
It hadn’t been completely out of the blue. Fifteen years ago she’d been diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease, PKD, but she’d never shown any symptoms. However, during her routine check-up this week, to her shock, decreased kidney function had been detected. Her nephrologist had warned her that, whilst she could continue as normal for now, within the next six to twelve months she would begin to feel too exhausted to even continue as a doctor, and within a couple of years she would need a kidney transplant.
If she didn’t get a new kidney she would never be able to help another troubled child, never have a child of her own. Worst-case scenario, she might not even have her life.