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medical centre like an old hand. Maxine’s eyes flickered open and she winced. ‘Pain. Arm. Chest.’

      ‘Okay, Maxi. We’ll sort you out. Don’t worry; we’ve got you. It’ll be fine.’ The doctor’s face softened with affection and concern as he examined their unexpected patient. ‘Those damned onions, right? I’ll have to have a word with David.’

      Onions? No. Rose blinked up at him and shook her head. It was some sort of cardiac problem. Clearly. What the hell kind of doctor was he? It was obviously cardiac and if anyone knew what that meant she did. She felt her own chest constrict and the long scar down her ribcage prickle in sympathy. ‘Er…the pain is central chest and radiating to the left and down her arm. She’s short of breath and has a weak pulse. It’s not gastric—’

      He looked at her as if she’d spoken out of turn. ‘I am well aware of the symptoms.’

      Yeah. Pompous was one thing, but misguided? Wrong, actually. ‘You alluded to it being gastric, and it’s not—’

      Ignoring the rest of Rose’s input, he pointed down the corridor, his voice all business as he spoke. ‘ECG machine, portable oxygen and defibrillator are on a trolley in the treatment room. Down there. Second right. Bring it all here then call 999. Our full address is by the phone behind you, but shouldn’t be necessary as they know where we are.’

      She gritted her teeth and did as requested as efficiently as she could, given she’d only had a brief whip round the place in preparation for a full induction tomorrow. But it gave her enough time to ruminate on her impression of her new colleague and boss. Bad enough that he’d taken umbrage at her clothing choices this morning, but he was also one hell of a grumpy dude at work too.

      It was just a shame he was so damned good-looking and she would have to endure looking at those soulful blue eyes for the duration of her stay. Never mind the impressive height and shock of blond hair—had Vikings ever made it this far west? If so, here was their long-lost son. Dr Joe Thor Thompson.

      Tall. Pompous. Sexy eyes. A tick list to avoid if ever there was one. Been there, done that. Not happening again.

      By the time she got off the phone the doctor had managed to assist Maxine onto a gurney Rose had dragged up from the treatment room along with the resus trolley, assessed her blood pressure and oxygen saturation, fitted an oxygen mask over her face and was attaching a twelve lead ECG to her chest. ‘Breathing any better?’

      Maxine shifted the mask so she could speak. ‘Bit.’

      Thor leant in and spoke gently. Which seemed incongruous on such a gruff big man. ‘Your oxygen levels are a bit low, but once they come up we can take the mask off. How’s the pain? Out of ten?’

      ‘Eight.’

      He nodded. ‘Then I’ll give you some pain relief. Nurse? Can you attach the leads while I do the needles?’

      ‘Sure.’ But then she wished she hadn’t agreed, because it was always difficult doing something for the first time in a new environment and her hands shook as she peeled back the sticky paper and placed the pads onto Maxine’s chest. She willed her own heart rate to slow and the trembling to stop, but no dice. Her body was betraying her today, and all the time she felt Thor’s eyes on her, assessing. Why was sticky paper so damned sticky? It wouldn’t drop from her fingers as she shook them. It attached itself to the wires and got in the way of…everything. She looked up and caught his gaze. ‘I’m sorry, it’s—’

      ‘Sticky. Yes.’ He didn’t move, didn’t blink, barely breathed as he waited. But she felt his irritation swaddle her like a cloying cloak and she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Finally, she managed to get everything in place and she felt him sigh.

      Clamping down her own frustration, she closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. She would not let another man make her feel…less…ever again. She was good at her job. She was a great person, actually. She knew that, and it had been a long, hard journey to finally believe it.

      But none of that was important right now; she had to work with this man regardless, and Maxine needed them both to get along if they were going to successfully care for her.

      Their patient reached for Joe’s hand as the last lead was clipped on. The ECG machine bleeped and whirred, then traced her heart rhythm onto an LED display. Not good news: Maxine was in the middle of an acute cardiac event and needed urgent treatment and admission to hospital.

      Joe nodded as he looked at the read-out. ‘Okay, sweetheart, it looks like you’re going to have to make a trip to Lancaster General because your heart isn’t doing what it should do. So, I need to get a drip in your arm so we can start the treatment here and some aspirin will help make the blood flow a bit easier. But first, pop this tablet under your tongue. Bad news is, I don’t think it was the onions after all.’

      Maxine seemed to have diminished a little. ‘Me neither. But I didn’t want to bother you.’ She pulled the mask away again and let Joe place the tablet under her tongue. Wincing, the older lady looked up at him and choked back a sob. ‘I don’t want to die, Joey.’

      ‘Shh. Let the tablet dissolve. You’re not dying here, that’s for sure, not on my watch.’ Once he’d secured intravenous access into her arm, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do on an anxious woman with poor cardiac output and refusenik veins, he squeezed Maxine’s other hand, his voice an altogether different tone to the one he’d used with Rose. ‘We’re going to make you comfortable.’

      ‘But, what if I do die—?’

      ‘No, Maxine. Do not even go there. Save your energy for getting better, not thinking the worst.’ He drew up some morphine with very steady hands, handed the ampoule to Rose to check with barely a second glance at her, then he injected the painkiller into their patient.

      When he’d finished Maxine struggled to sit up. ‘Call David.’

      Joe nodded. ‘I will. And I’ll tell him to meet you at the hospital. Now lie back and start getting better.’

      But she tried to sit up again, her hand trembling as she grabbed his arm. ‘I’m sorry. We’re short-staffed as it is.’

      He gently eased her back against the pillow and stroked her hair. ‘Please, relax. Stop talking, stop thinking about everyone else and save your energy.’

      ‘Tell Katy I love her.’ Her voice was strained and thick with emotion, which seemed to take Joe aback.

      ‘Of course, but she knows it well enough.’ His eyes filled, but he shook his head, determined. One thing Rose realised now was that she’d grossly underestimated him. Yes, he was grumpy, but he had more than enough affection and compassion for this woman. ‘Don’t go talking like that. You hear me?’

      ‘And find someone to make you happy. Please. You need that in your life, Joey.’

      What? A zillion questions fired in Rose’s brain. That was an odd thing for his receptionist to say.

      He blinked. Shook his head again, his gaze sliding quickly to Rose and then back to Maxine. Clearly he hadn’t wanted her to overhear this conversation. ‘Right. I think I can hear sirens. Any minute now we’ll have the Lake District’s finest bursting through the door.’

      And they did. And when they saw who the patient was there was a flurry of activity and a very quick turnaround with a promise of having her back behind the reception desk—as she was demanding—in no time. Joe wanted to accompany her in the ambulance but Maxine flatly refused, saying he was needed here and to just phone her husband. So he did, breaking the news in that soft, concerned voice he seemed to reserve for friends and not for new staff—but then, why should he?

      And then there was just the two of them left to clear up the mess of syringes and sticky papers, and tidy up the reception area, which they did in silence because Rose didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t receive a terse reply.

      Thank goodness the medical centre had been closed for lunch and the

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