Emergency: Wife Lost and Found. Carol MarinelliЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘You’ll stay with me,’ James said .
It was as simple and as complicated as that.
‘How?’ Lorna asked. A single word, but there were so many questions behind it. ‘I just need to rest, James.’
‘You can do that at mine.’
‘How?’ she asked again. She wasn’t sure that moving in with her ex, even if it was just for a few days, was such a good idea.
‘Look—we’re adults. We were over a long time ago. I’m sure if the roles were reversed you’d do the same for me.’
‘Of course I would.’
‘So that’s settled, then.’
Carol Marinelli recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation, and after chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked—‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!
Also out this month is Carol’s fabulous, sensationally sexy Modern™ Romance BLACKMAILED INTO THE GREEK TYCOON’S BED
EMERGENCY: WIFE
LOST AND FOUND
BY
CAROL MARINELLI
For Anne and Tony xxxx
CHAPTER ONE
THERE was an energised buzz in the emergency staffroom as James Morrell walked in with a long overdue mug of coffee in hand, and took a seat. A buzz that came from too much adrenaline and too many people talking at the same time…
A serious crash on the entrance ramp to the M1 motorway had transformed an already busy Friday afternoon into a chaotic one. A car had hit black ice and a nasty pile-up had ensued involving a coach and several cars. The slushy, snowy conditions had just added to the misery for the victims and the rescue squads. Several London hospitals had taken the strain, but the emergency department of North London Regional Hospital had sent out a mobile team to the scene and extra staff had been called in to assist. And now, as the clock hit five p.m. the department was just starting to catch up with the backlog. ANUM May Donnelly had ordered sandwiches and refreshments for her team and had insisted that the staff, some of whom who had been on duty since seven a.m. and would be there for a good few hours yet, actually stopped for half an hour and took a well-earned break before the department came off bypass and allowed ambulances to bring patients in instead of diverting to another hospital.
Having ensured her staff were sorted, May had rung her beloved husband and told him that again she would be late home, eternally grateful that he didn’t add to her stress, just cheerfully told her he’d start dinner and reminded her that this time next year they’d be on their retirement cruise.
‘Well done, guys.’ James’s deep voice hushed the room for a moment. ‘I’ll speak with you in groups over the next couple of days and go over it all—but suffice it to say for now that you all did an excellent job. The team that came out with me was top class. The firefighters and paramedics both commented on how well you all worked and well done to the students too.’ He glanced over to where the student nurses sat and May Donnelly smiled to herself as she watched each girl flush pink as James Morrell looked in their direction.
It was an automatic reflex, May had long since decided. James Morrell must think that all women had a slight rosy glow to their cheeks, because that was how they generally appeared when he was around!
May had been in nursing close to forty years now and had seen plenty, could tell a few tales in her thick Irish brogue, and she could tell a few home truths too—but would these young women listen to her when she told them that they were wasting their time with James?
Not for a minute.
Tall and of solid build, he looked like a rugby forward, minus the broken nose and cauliflower ears. With his straight brown hair and piercing green eyes he cut more than a dash as he strode through the department. He was certainly a commanding man, and unusually at thirty-five he was single too. Having got drenched out on the motorway, he was now dressed in theatre blues that showed a lot of bare arms and just a smattering of chest hair, and there wasn’t a woman in the room who didn’t notice.
‘Are you coming to Mick’s leaving do next Saturday, James?’ May watched as Kristy, one of the students, attempted to ask casually. Though it might be considered a touch forward for a student, every female in the room was seriously glad that she had asked. He was good-looking, a doctor, definitely not gay—who could blame a girl for trying?
‘I might pop in for one drink.’ James looked over from the television he wasn’t really watching. He was just trying to switch his brain off for a while—except he couldn’t—even though the department had been stood down, even though the wreckage was starting to be cleared, it didn’t feel over yet. There was a feeling of unease he couldn’t explain. Sure, if he sat and thought about it, which he was doing right now, he could easily put it down to having just been in charge on the scene of an accident with more than forty victims, but he’d done that before—many times. No, there was this unsettled feeling as he sat there in the staffroom, especially when Abby just had to start!
‘I could give you a lift!’ She smiled over to him, but James didn’t return it, just looked back to the TV.
‘I can give you a lift if you like, James,’ Abby said again, assuming he hadn’t heard her offer.
Ooh, May was enjoying this. Though no one in the department would ever guess, May didn’t like Abby, the new, rather snooty registrar, who clearly had her blue eyes set on the main prize.
‘I’m fine.’ Still James didn’t turn around. ‘I don’t even know if I’ll get there.’
‘Well,’ still Abby persisted, ‘if you do want a drink, I’m happy to drive. It’s not often we both get a Saturday night off at the same time.’
Yes-s-s! May loved listening to this—listening to Abby talk as if they were an old married couple, who weren’t getting to spend enough time together.
‘I’ve got plans next Saturday…’ James did look over now and flashed his ‘back off’ smile that May just adored, and she watched the colour whoosh up Abby’s face as very firmly, as was James’s way, he put her back in her box. ‘As I said, I might try to get there for one drink—I would like to say farewell to Mick!’ he added, just so everyone in the room understood that the reason he was going was to say goodbye to the porter who had served the department for twenty years now. ‘Who’s holding onto his collection?’
‘That would be me.’ May said, ‘but you’ve already contributed.’
‘Sure?’ James checked.
‘Quite sure.’ May nodded, still smiling to herself. When would these girls realize that James Morrell didn’t mix business with pleasure? Mind you, had she been thirty years younger she’d have given it a go. Not that it would have done any good—in all the years she’d worked with him, he’d never been involved with a staff member, had never, not even once, brought a date along to a work do.
There was an aloofness to James that May had never quite worked out. Polite, kind, nice, he was also a