LITMIR.BIZ

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felt absurdly like laughing at such a preposterous notion. Her? In trouble? ‘No. Not me. Never me.’ That had been her sister’s job. ‘No, I’m the peacekeeper in the family.’

      Gareth frowned at the sudden gloom in her eyes. The conversation had swung from light to awkward to serious. It seemed she wasn’t too keen on the mantle of family good girl and suddenly a seductive voice was whispering they could find some trouble together.

      Thankfully the little itch at the back of his brain finally came into sharp focus, obliterating the voice completely.

      ‘Wait …’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Ashworth-Keyes? As in Charles and Alisha Ashworth-Keyes, eminent cardiothoracic surgeons?’

      Billie nodded. Sprung. ‘The very same.’

      ‘Your parents?’ She nodded and he whistled. Everyone who was anyone in the medical profession in Brisbane knew of the Ashworth-Keyes surgical dynasty. ‘That’s some pedigree you’ve got going on there.’

      ‘Yes. Lucky me,’ she said derisively.

      ‘You … don’t get on?’

      Billie sighed. ‘No, it’s not that. I’m just … not really like them, you know?’

      He quirked an eyebrow. ‘How so?’

      ‘Well, I’m no surgeon, that’s for sure. I’m a little too squeamish for that.’

      Gareth surprised himself by laughing at the understatement but he couldn’t help himself. ‘Really?’ he asked, looking down at his shoes. ‘You hide it well.’

      Billie shot him a cross look but soon joined him in his laughter.

      ‘And?’ he asked. ‘What else?’

      What else? Being a surgeon was all that mattered in the Ashworth-Keyes household. ‘It’s … complicated.’

      Gareth nodded. Fair enough. Complicated he understood. It really wasn’t any of his business anyway. ‘So what field is the next Ashworth-Keyes going to specialise in? Clearly something … anything that doesn’t involve the letting of blood? Dermatology? Radiology? Maybe … pathology?’

      Billie shook her head. ‘Emergency medicine,’ she said. Even saying it depressed the hell out of her.

      Gareth blinked. ‘Really?’ Surely Billie understood the squeamish factor could get pretty high in an ER?

      ‘Yep,’ she confirmed, sounding about as enthusiastic as he usually did just prior to starting a night shift. ‘I’m starting my six-month emergency rotation at St Luke’s ER next week in fact.’

      Gareth held his breath. ‘St Luke’s?’

      ‘Yes.

      Crap. ‘Ah.’

      She frowned at him in that way he’d already grown way too fond of. ‘What?’

      ‘That’s where I work.’

      ‘You … work at St Luke’s?’

      He nodded. ‘In the ER.’

      ‘So we’ll be … working together,’ she murmured.

      ‘Yup.’

      And he hoped like hell she didn’t look as good in a pair of scrubs as she did in a black sparkly dress or sensible and right were going to be toast.

       CHAPTER THREE

      BILLIE’S FIRST DAY at St Luke’s wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. Gareth wasn’t there and she was able to slip into the groove of the department during daytime hours when there were a lot of senior staff around to have her back and take on the more raw and challenging cases.

      She was content to take the nuisance admissions that everybody grumbled about. The patients that should be at their GPs’ but had decided to save their hip pockets and clutter up the public waiting room instead.

      Billie really didn’t mind. It was satisfying work and she took to it like a duck to water. Her previous six months had been her medical rotation and she’d thrived there as well, treating a variety of cases from the humdrum to the interesting.

      It was Thursday she wasn’t looking forward to. Thursday was the start of three night shifts and from nine until eight the next morning there were just three residents—her and two others—and a registrar, dealing with whatever came through the doors.

      Actually, Thursday night probably wasn’t going to be so bad. It was Friday and Saturday night that had her really worried. The city bars would be open and the thought of having to deal with the product of too much booze and testosterone wasn’t a welcome one.

      There would be blood.

      Of that she was sure.

      Nine o’clock Thursday night rocked around quicker than Billie liked and she walked into St Luke’s ER with a sense of foreboding.

      Her hands shook as she changed into a set of scrubs in the female change room. ‘St. Luke’s ER’ was embroidered on the pocket in case Billie needed any further reminders that she was exactly where she didn’t want to be. Jen, the other resident who had also started her rotation on the same day, chatted away excitedly and Billie let her run on, nodding and making appropriate one-word comments in the right places.

      At least it was a distraction.

      Thankfully, though, by the time the night team had taken handover at the central work station from the day team, Billie was feeling a little more relaxed.

      Things were reasonably quiet. The resus bays were empty and only a handful of patients were in varying stages of being assessed, most of them with medical complaints that didn’t involve any level of gore.

      Billie knew she could handle that with one hand tied behind her back. In fact, she was looking forward to it.

      A nurse cruised by and Helen, the registrar, introduced the three new residents. ‘Who’s on the night shift, Chrissy, do you know?’

      ‘Gareth,’ she said.

      Billie’s pulse leapt at his name. Helen smiled. ‘Excellent.’

      Chrissy rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, yeah,’ she joked. ‘Everyone loves Gareth.’

      Helen laughed. ‘He’s highly experienced,’ she said, feigning affront.

      ‘Sure,’ Chrissy teased. ‘And those blue eyes have nothing at all to do with it.’

      ‘Blue eyes? I hadn’t noticed.’ Helen shrugged nonchalantly.

      ‘Who’s Gareth?’ Barry, the other new resident, asked as Chrissy left to attend to a buzzer.

      ‘Brilliant nurse. Ex-military. Used to be in charge around here. Not sure why he was demoted … think there was some kind of incident. But, anyway, he’s very experienced.’

      ‘Ex-military?’ Billie’s voice sounded an octave or two higher than she would have liked but no one seemed to notice. No wonder Gareth had taken charge of the scene so expertly on Saturday night.

      ‘Apparently,’ Helen said. ‘Served in MASH units all over. The Middle East most recently, I think. Exceptionally cool and efficient in an emergency.’

      Billie nodded. She knew all about that coolness and efficiency.

      ‘Also …’ Helen smiled ‘… kind of easy on the eyes.’

      She nodded again. Oh, yes. Billie definitely knew how easy he was on the eyes.

      ‘Right,’ Helen said. ‘Let’s get to it. Let’s see if we can’t whittle these patients down and have us a quiet night.’

      A quiet night sounded just

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