LITMIR.BIZ

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couldn’t take all the credit. He couldn’t actually take any of it.

      ‘It was a good call,’ he agreed. ‘She could well have gone on being treated for epilepsy that didn’t exist and died from a VF arrest down the track.’

      ‘You should write the case history up for a journal,’ Luc suggested.

      ‘I think it’s been done,’ Blake said. ‘What bothers me is that nobody queried whether her seizures could have been due to oxygen deprivation in the first place. And I can’t really take the credit...’ He lifted his gaze to scan the emergency department. ‘It was actually one of our nurses who joined the dots.’

      ‘Wow. That’s impressive. Who was it?’

      ‘Samantha...someone. She’s new.’

      ‘Ah...’ Luc raised an eyebrow. ‘The one that looks like a model?’

      ‘Mmm.’ The response was meant to be discouraging. He didn’t want to find out that any of his colleagues found her attractive. And he certainly didn’t want to give anyone the impression that he did. She wasn’t his type and never would be.

      ‘Give her a pat on the back then.’ Luc turned away but then threw a grin over his shoulder. ‘Figuratively, I mean.’

      Blake ignored the subtle reference to his reputation with women but the suggestion had already been made by the cardiology team. ‘I’ll do that.’

      Not that he could see Sam anywhere. After a week of being so aware of her in the department, half expecting her to do something else that was clumsy or inappropriate, it was a little disconcerting to realise he might have to go looking for her to pass on the congratulations.

      Maybe that had something to do with the impression he’d been left with that she hadn’t exactly been thrilled to have him take over Jess’s management until the patient was transferred to the cardiology department. She’d barely spoken to him when she’d brought the monitor back and busied herself attaching electrodes and then she’d faded into the background when Jess asked her to contact her parents and let them know what was going on.

      What had he done to offend her?

      And why did it bother him, anyway?

      Okay, maybe she’d ditched those frivolous nails but she still belonged to a world he did his best to avoid. A supermodel clone who drove around in a real-life Dinky toy and had the time and inclination to sit around in beauty salons.

      The fact that she was intelligent made no difference.

      The jolt of electricity he’d felt when his hand had brushed hers shouldn’t make any difference, either.

      But it did, dammit.

      Against his better judgement, Blake had to admit that he was lying to himself by pretending he wasn’t attracted to this newcomer.

      He was. Seriously attracted.

      Not that he was going to act on it.

      So, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing if he’d somehow offended her. A useful insurance policy if his body decided it would be worth overriding his better judgement and he was tempted to find out if Samantha Braithwaite was single. Or interested.

      And why would she be interested anyway? He didn’t sit around in wine bars or treat his dates to great seats for some show at the Sydney Opera House. His spare time was devoted to helping out the less privileged members of society at the free clinic and keeping up with any DIY or gardening at his mother’s house. And training, of course. If it wasn’t an organised session with the SDR team, he’d be out running or at the gym using the climbing wall or something. Physical kind of stuff for the most part.

      The kind that made you sweaty and dirty.

      Could break your nails, even.

      Nope. She definitely wasn’t his type.

      And he didn’t need to go and find Sam. He’d see her soon enough and he could pass on the message.

      Or he could write a note and leave it under the windscreen wiper of the car he couldn’t help looking for every day when he arrived at work. Except that she’d think it was a ticket or something, wouldn’t she? She might be really annoyed by a gesture like that.

      Blake thought about that for a moment. Then he turned to Emily who was working nearby at the central desk.

      ‘Got a bit of scrap paper, Em?’

       CHAPTER THREE

      THE SUN WAS low enough in the sky that Blake had to shield his eyes as he walked through the car park. He almost didn’t see the figure standing beside the little red car.

      No. Not exactly standing. Samantha Braithwaite had one hip resting on the bonnet, close to one of the headlights. She looked like she was waiting for something. The roof of the car was down so maybe she was waiting for the interior to cool off?

      He had to walk past her to get to his bike. It would have been rude not to acknowledge her, so he nodded.

      She nodded back.

      ‘I got your note.’

      Blake’s steps slowed. Uh-oh...

      He’d left that note a couple of days ago. He’d had a day off the next day and he’d barely seen her today with the department having been so busy so he’d forgotten that it could have been annoying. That she might have thought she was getting a ticket for parking in the wrong place or something.

      But Sam was smiling now. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘It was nice to know that someone was impressed but...’

      Blake had stopped walking. He raised an eyebrow.

      ‘But how did you know this was my car?’

      Oh, man... She had been waiting for something, hadn’t she?

      She’d been waiting for him.

      He shrugged. ‘It’s a distinctive car. I saw you getting into it. On your first day here, I think it was.’

      She slid off the car. The way she caught the length of her hair and pushed it back over her shoulder came across as a defensive gesture. An understandable one, perhaps, and Blake felt a slight twinge of remorse. He hadn’t intended to remind her of the humiliating incident of dropping a bedpan in front of everyone.

      ‘Fair enough. And you ride a Ducati.’

      His eyebrow still hadn’t lowered. Maybe because he remembered that she’d been watching him ride away that day. That he’d revved a bit more than necessary.

      That he’d liked that she was watching him.

      Dangerous territory, here. It would be oh, so easy to keep talking. To flirt with her a little, even. He willed his muscles to tense, ready to keep moving forward. Oddly, they weren’t co-operating.

      ‘That’s right.’

      ‘Seven-fifty Sport, I believe.’

      Good grief. She knew about bikes? His eyebrow had dropped now. His jaw probably had as well.

      ‘My brother was into bikes.’

      ‘Ah.’ Past tense. ‘So he grew out of his wilder inclinations, then?’

      Sam seemed to have found an interesting oil stain on the asphalt. ‘Something like that.’

      It was time for him to move. To wish his new colleague a good evening and then go and get on with what was left of his own.

      ‘So...do you know what happened? To Jess, I mean. The girl with the long QT syndrome?’

      ‘She was kept in for some tests but I expect she’s been discharged by now.’

      ‘I meant her management. Did she get put on beta

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