The Surgeon She Never Forgot. Melanie MilburneЧитать онлайн книгу.
earlier that day. He coiled it around his finger in an action he had done so many times in the past. Mikki couldn’t have moved away if she had tried. She stood mesmerised by the tether of his touch, by the intense blue of his gaze as it held hers. It was as if the busy, bustling world of the hospital had faded into the background, leaving them isolated in a bubble that contained memories of private moments—intimate moments only they knew about. Her heart kicked against her breastbone as his finger drew closer to her scalp. She could smell his aftershave. It wasn’t one she recognised but it was underpinned with his all-too-familiar smell: musk and soap and healthy potent male.
‘Do you want to know why I came back after so long out of the country?’ he asked.
She drew in a breath that felt like it had thorns attached. ‘To further your career,’ she said. ‘That’s always been your priority. Nothing comes before that.’
He uncoiled the strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. ‘A career is not everything, Mikki,’ he said as his hand dropped back down by his side. ‘It can’t keep you warm at night.’
Mikki stepped out of his force field. ‘I’m sure you have plenty of nubile companions to do that for you,’ she said.
He gave that almost-smile again. ‘You sound jealous.’
She sent him a gelid look. ‘I can assure you I’m not.’
‘All the same, it would be good if we can be friends as well as colleagues,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to add to the stress of the workplace by us being at war with one another.’
‘Friends, Lewis?’ Her expression was incredulous. ‘Isn’t that asking a little too much given the circumstances?’
His jaw grew tense as if he was trying to contain the anger that was there just under the surface of his civility. ‘You walked out on me, Mikki,’ he said. ‘You didn’t give our relationship a chance.’
Mikki glared at him. ‘Our relationship should never have occurred in the first place. It was a mistake from start to finish.’
‘I know it had a rough start but we could have worked at it,’ he said. ‘We could have tried to sort out the career commitments so that both of us could have had what we wanted.’
‘We didn’t want the same things,’ Mikki said. ‘You never wanted the ties of a family so early in your career. You told me that when we first met. But then, when I told you I was pregnant, you turned into someone else. You were obsessed with the baby, what school it would go to, what football team it would support, which of us it would look like. How could I know if you were truly enthusiastic or just making the best of a bad situation?’
‘What was I supposed to do?’ he said. ‘Abandon my own flesh and blood? I couldn’t do that. There was no other choice but to get married. I got you pregnant. It was my fault. I accepted that then and I still accept responsibility for it now. I didn’t want any child of mine growing up without its father.’
Mikki felt perilously close to tears, tears she hadn’t shed in years. ‘You were glad when I lost the baby. I know you were. It left you free to get on with your life without the responsibility of parenthood to deal with.’
‘Why would I be glad that you had to go through that?’ he asked, frowning darkly. ‘What sort of jerk do you take me for? I was gutted when you lost the baby.’
‘You never said a word to me,’ Mikki said. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’
‘You had been through a devastating experience,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think it was fair to dump my stuff on you on top of what you’d gone through. Talking about it only makes it worse, or that’s what I thought at the time. I hated seeing you cry. I felt responsible. I was the one who got you pregnant. I felt like I had ruined your life.’
Mikki bit her lip. She was feeling shocked at hearing his side of things. She had been so focussed on what she had felt that she hadn’t factored in Lewis’s feelings at all. He had always been so composed and clinical. Had he hidden all that he was feeling behind that mask of professional composure? Had he truly felt as devastated as she had?
Lewis scraped a hand through his dark brown hair, leaving deep grooves in the strands. ‘I don’t do emotion well, Mikki,’ he said in a world-weary tone. ‘For work I have to shut off my feelings so they don’t cloud my judgement. It’s hard to switch them back on again in my private life.’
His private life was a sore point and it made her sound a lot more resentful than she would have liked. ‘You didn’t seem to have too much trouble accessing your feelings the other night with Gabby or Tabby or whatever her name was,’ Mikki said.
‘You really are spoiling for a fight, aren’t you, Mikki?’ he asked.
Mikki opened her mouth to send him a scathing retort but he had already swung away to walk out of the office, almost bumping into one of the registrars as he left the ward.
‘Gosh, Mr Beck seemed rather annoyed,’ Kylie Ingram commented as she came into the office. ‘Has one of his operating lists been cancelled or something?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Mikki mumbled by way of reply, before excusing herself to answer her mobile.
* * *
‘We have four patients scheduled to come in tomorrow for Mr Beck’s list,’ Jane Melrose, an ICU nurse, informed Mikki as she came in for her shift a couple of days later.
‘Have we got the beds?’ Mikki asked, frowning as her gaze swept over the already full unit.
‘Not unless someone is transferred, discharged to the ward or dies,’ Jane said flatly.
Mikki pressed her lips together. ‘Then Mr Beck’s list will have to be culled. We’re stretched to capacity as it is and that’s not leaving room for any A and E admissions.’
‘I’ll call the theatre supervisor,’ Jane said and sighed. ‘Remind me why I work here?’
‘You get paid,’ Mikki said.
‘There’s got to be more to it than that,’ Jane said. ‘Aren’t I supposed to feel fulfilled and get a sense I’m making a difference?’
Mikki smiled. ‘We’re all making a difference, Jane. I’ll call the theatre supervisor. You go and have your tea break.’
Jane instantly brightened. ‘I just remembered why I work here. You are such a nice person to work with.’
‘It’s very sweet of you to say so, Jane, but I have a feeling I’m not going to be popular once I’ve made this call,’ she said as she resignedly picked up the phone in the office.
* * *
‘What do you mean, half my list has been cancelled?’ Lewis snapped at the theatre supervisor who had delivered the news.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Beck, but there are no available beds in ICU,’ the nurse said. ‘Dr Landon was most insistent.’
Lewis frowned. ‘So this was Dr Landon’s decision?’
‘Well, sort of, I guess,’ she said. ‘This stuff happens all the time. ICU is always full to the brim and the op lists have to be shuffled around a fair bit. If there’s no ICU bed post-op, you can’t operate. Some of ICU is contracted out to the private hospital next door, but the unit is too small anyway.’
‘I know how a co-located hospital works,’ Lewis said curtly. ‘I just don’t like having decisions made over my head without consultation with me. Which patients were cancelled? I should be the one deciding which patients are put off, not someone who has never seen the patients. I know who is the most urgent, I’ve done the work-ups, organised the preparation. I will be the one making that decision.’
‘You’ll have to take up that with Dr Landon,’ the nurse said, giving a nervous grimace before she left.
Lewis scraped