Emergency: Christmas. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.
smile was extremely brief. She fitted the earpieces of her stethoscope into place and positioned the disc on the inside of Aaron’s elbow, apparently concentrating on her task. The vital sign measurement was automatic, however, and Penelope’s thoughts strayed again. Did Jeremy think she was beautiful? He had certainly managed to make her feel attractive over the last few weeks but did she have genuine cause to believe that? The comments had been few in reality but treasured all the more for their rarity.
Like the day she hadn’t tried to tame her wildly curly black hair into its usual short ponytail. She had just taken a section from the front at both sides and drawn them into a small plait at the back, leaving the rest of her curls to cover her ears with the ends just touching her shoulders. Rules about hairstyles were much more relaxed these days and the only comment she had received had been from Jeremy.
‘Love your hair like that,’ he’d said. ‘It really suits you.’
Penelope had been wearing her hair exactly like that ever since. Had Jeremy noticed? She released the valve on the sphygmomanometer. ‘One-twenty over 80,’ she informed Aaron. ‘Perfectly normal.’ Penelope placed her fingers on her patient’s wrist, her gaze now fastened on the second hand of her watch. ‘I’ll just check your pulse now, Aaron.’
He was still staring at her with those oddly pale eyes. Penelope’s eyes weren’t pale. What was it Jeremy had said? It hadn’t been long after she’d met him for the first time. She had been doing the cricoid pressure on an intubation that Jeremy had been called in for. A very obese woman who’d suffered a major stroke. That had been a difficult case to intubate as well and their heads had been very close together at one stage during the procedure. Successfully completed, Penelope had been assisting in tying the endotracheal tube firmly into place and Jeremy had caught her eye. His voice had been low enough not to be overheard by the other staff members nearby.
‘Do you realise,’ he’d murmured, ‘that your eyes are exactly the colour of the delphiniums my mother used to grow in her garden?’ Jeremy had smiled at her, holding the eye contact for another split second. His final comment had been almost inaudible. ‘My favourite flowers.’
Penelope recorded the baseline heart and respiration rate she had now completed on Aaron Jacobs. She had the feeling her own rates had just increased significantly thanks to the direction of her straying thoughts. She turned her attention firmly back to the task in hand.
‘Do you have any other medical conditions you’re being treated for, Aaron?’
‘Asthma,’ he responded. ‘I’ve got a Ventolin inhaler but I don’t need it very often.’
‘Anything else?’
‘No.’
‘Are you allergic to any medications?’
‘No.’
‘How bad is the pain in your wrist at the moment?’
‘Pretty bad.’
‘On a scale of zero to ten, with zero being no pain and ten being the worst you could imagine, what score would you give it?’
‘About an eight.’
‘OK. I’ll see about getting you something to help with that. You’re going to need your wrist X-rayed to make sure you haven’t broken anything and then a doctor will come and see you.’ Penelope pulled back the cubicle curtain. ‘You might have a bit of a wait, I’m afraid. We’re quite busy today.’
‘That’s cool. I don’t mind waiting. Will you come back to look after me?’
‘I’ll be back as soon as I’ve organised some pain relief for you. There’s a buzzer beside the bed if you need it and I won’t be too far away. I’ve got other patients I need to take care of as well.’
Aaron settled back onto his pillow. ‘Leave the curtain open, won’t you?’ he requested. ‘That way I’ll be able to see you when you go past.’
Penelope complied, although she didn’t much like the thought of Aaron Jacobs watching out for her. She would try and make sure she didn’t need to go past cubicle 10 too often. Penelope almost smiled wryly at the thought. If it had been Jeremy in cubicle 10 she would have been walking past as often as possible—like she did when he was in the emergency department and she hadn’t been lucky enough to be involved in whatever case he had been called in for. She enjoyed providing a distraction almost as much as working with the man. Funny how you knew when someone was watching you even when you were being deliberately casual and not looking in their direction.
Penelope headed for cubicle 2. Perhaps Mrs Jennings was back from her ultrasound now and the provisional diagnosis of fibroids had been confirmed, which would explain the profuse intermenstrual bleeding the middle-aged woman was experiencing. Mrs Jennings was probably going to need admission in any case due to her severe anaemia. Cubicle 2 was still empty but Penelope took a minute to tidy up. Packaging and used IV supplies had been discarded on top of the locker after IV fluid replacement had been initiated. It was easy to let her attention wander again from such an automatic task.
Penelope’s thoughts had come full circle now. On balance, she did believe that Jeremy found her attractive. Maybe even beautiful. She hadn’t believed it at first. A lot of new doctors were inclined to flirt and it took time to decide whether that was simply the way they treated all the women in their orbit. Jeremy had never made any personal comments to other nurses that Penelope had overheard, however, and Belinda had told her he’d never shown the slightest interest in her. Surely if Jeremy was that way inclined then Penelope’s flatmate would have been a prime target. Belinda was gorgeous—tall and slim, with the combination of a long mane of red-gold hair and bright green eyes that were enough to send most male newcomers into a spin.
Yes. Penelope had every reason to believe that, for some obscure reason, Jeremy had singled her out to feel special...and she did. For the first time in longer than Penelope cared to remember she felt special, attractive. Desirable, even... And it felt so good. Greg’s blatant rejection in favour of what’s-her-name had been the last of a long run of romantic disasters. Penelope’s self-esteem and any belief in her desirability had hit rock bottom with a resounding clunk. It was no wonder she had fallen in love with Jeremy.
Penelope stopped with a lurch, halfway to the rubbish bin, her hands full of empty packaging. The inside of a used-up roll of tape fell and bounced on the linoleum. Was she actually in love with Jeremy Lane? In love with a man she hadn’t even kissed? Penelope thought about that tingle she got every time she heard his voice. The way her skin could feel when he was watching her. That feeling that was a bit more than a tingle—the one that always started low down in her abdomen when their eyes made contact. She could feel it now, just thinking about it, and it was strong enough to be unmistakable. Sheer physical desire. Penelope knew herself well enough to know she didn’t feel that way unless she was seriously in love.
The rubbish fitted neatly into the bin and Penelope stooped to retrieve the cardboard ring left over from the roll of adhesive tape. Yes. She was definitely in love with Jeremy and it was time things moved ahead. It shouldn’t be difficult if his attraction to her was genuine. Maybe Belinda was right. Or sort of right. There was no way Penelope could take the initiative by asking him out. That would be risking a rejection that could possibly be even more painful than Greg’s defection. There had to be a way of setting up an opportunity that Jeremy couldn’t miss—not just one that he wouldn’t want to miss. Not if he felt the same way she did. Belinda was bound to have some good ideas.
Penelope’s quick scan confirmed that cubicle 2 was acceptably tidy. She would see about some medication for Aaron Jacobs and if Mrs Jennings still wasn’t back from her ultrasound she’d grab a few minutes for a coffee. With a bit of luck, Belinda might be having a quiet spell and they could talk. That way Penelope wouldn’t have to wait until she got home that night to hatch a plan. She didn’t want to wait. Buoyed by her analysis of Jeremy’s genuine interest, Penelope felt a new confidence blooming. The time was right. The man was right. All that was needed was a way of pulling it all together.
Disappointingly,