Surprise Twins for the Surgeon

‘My mother was hoping you’d drop in for that reason, so she’s not concerned about Capeka getting too fond of you in a short time.’

‘That’s good.’ Alesha’s heart rate sped up as she studied this man she’d been so intimate with before knowing much about him. But she had known he was kind, helpful, considerate, could laugh, and smiled like every woman’s dream. What more did she need to know? He hadn’t hurt her, probably wouldn’t either. He certainly wouldn’t if she didn’t let him close. Did she regret last night? Not one bit.

‘Got a minute first? I’d like to ask you a couple of things.’ Kristof held a hand out in the direction of a door along the hall.

‘Sure.’ Nothing about last night showed in his straight expression. None of the passion or need or even the delight in sharing what they’d had. They were back to friendly without overdoing it. ‘Sure,’ she repeated.

She’d barely parked her butt on the chair by a desk when he asked, ‘What line of nursing are you most qualified in?’

Definitely back to basics. That was fine by her. ‘I’ve mostly worked on children’s wards and in paediatric ICU. But as all nurses do in their training, I’ve covered everything and feel comfortable in most situations. Why?’

‘Theatre work?’

So that was where this was going. ‘Yes, some, but not for eighteen months when I worked for five weeks as a fill-in at one of the East London hospitals.’

Kristof locked his intense gaze on her. ‘I know you’re on holiday so this is asking a lot, but we’re down a theatre nurse today and I have a tight schedule of small surgeries.’ He paused. ‘Would you mind helping with handing over bandages, suture equipment, things like that?’

Alesha rushed in. ‘No problem.’ The tour would be on every day so she wasn’t missing out on anything and if she was needed here then that was fine with her.

‘It’s mundane, I know, but you haven’t got clearance to work as a qualified nurse. I’d still like to check your credentials though.’

‘I’d be leery if you didn’t. Ring the nursing employment agency I am currently working through.’ She tapped her phone for the number, and gave him a name to ask for. ‘While you’re doing that I’ll go say hello to Capeka. Oh, and mundane doesn’t bother me if I’m helping someone.’

Kristof was already picking up the phone, barely giving her a nod.

Okay. Definitely professional mode. Did that mean last night never happened? Or he wanted to forget it had? Or was Kristof afraid she was expecting more? Hearing him ask for the recruitment manager she’d referred him to, Alesha gave a mental shrug and left him to it. Whatever he thought about their night together wasn’t going to change her plans.

Heading to the classroom where she’d met Capeka yesterday, she found a happy smile before entering quietly so as not to disturb the children who were all engrossed in their books. All, except one wee girl standing in the corner on one leg.

Alesha said hello to the teacher, and instantly Capeka lifted her head, a glimmer of hope in those big, sad eyes.

Oh, oh. This might not be a wise idea if the child was starting to look out for her. But Kristof said his mother was happy for her to drop by and if she could do even the smallest amount of good for this girl she would.

The teacher was holding out a book towards Alesha and she took it, relieved to see it was another classic that she could semi interpret into English. Not that it mattered if she made up the whole story since Capeka wouldn’t understand a word, but it felt more right somehow.

Settling onto a small chair near without being too close to Capeka, she opened the book and dug into early childhood memories of sitting on her mother’s knee to listen to this story. The words came readily. As did the warmth and security of being with her mother. Too readily. Her voice faltered. Deep breath, carry on. This was about a child in need right before her, not about her. Nor was it anything to do with what had happened when she’d been a child. But for the first time in a long time Alesha admitted to herself that she had a longing for those days when she’d been safe and loved and totally secure in her little girl’s life.

Read, damn it. Just read. As in make up words to fit the pictures on the pages.

A small hand touched her arm, withdrew immediately.

Raising her eyes, Alesha saw an understanding in the brown eyes staring at her. An understanding no child this age should have. It was desperately hard not to reach out and hug this girl tight. Capeka had heard her pain in her voice and reacted. In the kindest way.

How am I going to leave her at the end of the week?

It might be kinder never to see her again than do that.

The girl stood in front of her, closer than she’d been before, one leg tucked tight behind the other, her arms folded across her waist. Her face was blank, but in those eyes a score of emotions swirled. Good, bad and probably the ugly. Then Capeka dipped her head as though to say, ‘Come on. Keep reading.’

So she did.

Until the sound of a man clearing his throat interrupted. Kristof stood near but not so near as to frighten Capeka, watching them both. His eyes were unreadable.

Alesha asked, ‘Did I pass muster?’

An abrupt nod. ‘Of course. When you’ve finished that book I’d like to get started in Theatre. There are things I’ll need to explain and show you first.’

‘I’ll be five minutes.’ Returning to the story, she noted he didn’t leave, merely stood there, watching and listening, and in a glance she saw just as unfathomable as he’d been earlier. His professional face. The one he seemed to use all the time around here. Thank goodness he hadn’t used it last night or they’d never have got far.

Kristof’s professionalism continued throughout the day. ‘First up is a tonsillectomy. Mila is five and has had constant throat infections for the last nine months as far as we’re aware. They probably go back a lot further but we only met her last September. Other children I’m operating on today have come in from the surrounding country towns where there are no hospitals. By coming to us they’re avoiding the long waiting lists in the cities.’

‘Does the children’s home get funding for these operations?’ she asked, without thinking she was probably overstepping the mark with such a question.

Kristof gave her one sharp shake of his handsome head. Scrubbed up and dressed in clean operating garb, he still looked as sexy as it was possible for a man to be. More than.

Alesha smiled behind her mask, let the heat that thought caused absorb into her, went with the job on hand, helping the other nurse as required. Stepping up to the table where Mila lay anaesthetised, she said, ‘She’s a little cutie, for sure.’

‘A vast improvement on the day she came to us,’ Jacob, the anaesthetist, informed her. An older man who worked part time at the local hospital, he was apparently always available for operations in this Theatre.

‘Then I’m hoping Capeka will one day be happy too.’

‘There’s a long way to go before that’s possible,’ Kristof muttered, glancing her way, a snap heatwave blasting the air between them. Not so professional now, was he?

Gotcha.

She grinned behind her mask.

His gaze dropped to the top of her scrubs where her breasts resided, his eyes widening.

Her nipples tightened. Oh, boy, trouble in scrubs. Alesha grabbed the box of wipes the other nurse was indicating and dragged her eyes away from the man who’d given her the night of her life. Today was going to take for ever to end.

Kristof lifted a scalpel. ‘Here we go.’

Alesha was in awe of the surgeon from that moment on. Not just the man under the scrubs. Kristof was focused on one thing and one thing only, removing Mila’s tonsils with as little trauma as possible. He was thorough, tidy, neat with his suturing, fast to keep the time under anaesthesia to a minimum. In other words the best surgeon she’d ever had th

e privilege to observe in Theatre.