Scandal In Sydney: Sydney Harbour Hospital: Lily's Scandal - Marion Lennox

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as the speed limit and a slightly buckled Aston Martin allowed. The chopper would be back at the Harbour by now. Jack and his team would be doing their utmost to save Tom.

      Would they have released Lily?

      She’d go into Theatre with them, he thought. They’d leave her hand in position while Tom was anaesthetised, while they put every tool in place so they could work with speed to cut down, clamp, tie off, without compromising what little was left of the leg’s blood supply.

      Then Lily could step away.

      He needed to be there when she stepped away.

      How fast could he make this car go? Not fast enough.

      He hit the phone. Evie.

      ‘He’s here and he’s still with us,’ Evie said before he could say a word. ‘Jack’s taken him straight through into Theatre. He had everyone lined up before he got here. Finn’s supervising. Judy’s on her way. You have the best surgical team the Harbour can provide.’

      ‘Lily …’

      ‘Lily still has her hand in place. We’re not shifting her until we’re sure we can get in fast enough.’

      ‘Can you be there when she’s no longer needed?’

      ‘I’ll have one of the nurses—’

      ‘I want you, Evie,’ he snapped. ‘I don’t ask favours, but I’m asking for one now. She’s had gastro. I’m worried about her as well. It’ll be twenty minutes before I get there. Be there for Lily for me.’

      ‘If it means that much …’

      ‘It means that much, ’

      ‘Well, well,’ Evie said gently. ‘And I thought it was mostly gossip. You really do care. Don’t worry, Luke, of course I’ll be there.’

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      LILY woke and someone was holding her hand.

      That someone was Luke.

      She blinked but she wasn’t dreaming. Luke Williams was leaning over, smiling, and he was definitely holding her hand. Her fingers were on the coverlet. His were entwined with hers.

      Sunlight was streaming in the window, or rather the rays of a tangerine sunset. She was warm and cosseted and …

      Luke Williams was holding her hand.

      ‘Hey, sleepyhead,’ he said softly, and his hold on her hand tightened. ‘I thought you might be intending to sleep until morning. Mind, you have the right.’

      His voice was low and husky, tense with emotion. His face was drawn.

      It definitely wasn’t a dream. The day’s events flooded back and with it, dread.

      ‘Tom …’

      ‘Tom’s fine,’ he said, and he didn’t release her hand by a fraction. ‘Judy Nerolin, our senior vascular surgeon, has decreed his leg will be okay and no one argues with Judy. He’s out of Theatre. He’s still in Intensive Care but all the signs are that he’ll make it and even make it with his leg intact. Thanks to the team from the Harbour—and one amazing nurse. One nurse called Lily.’

      ‘Hey, I didn’t do anything,’ she said sleepily. ‘Except put my fist in a hole. Like the boy with his thumb in the dyke in Holland. Highly skilled stuff.’

      ‘You fainted,’ he said ruefully.

      ‘But not until Judy took over,’ she said with pride. ‘I told myself I couldn’t and I didn’t.’

      ‘You mean you knew you were going to faint.’

      ‘By the time they rolled us into Theatre I was feeling a bit light-headed,’ she admitted. ‘But then Dr Lockheart brought me up to this cool bedroom.’

      It was indeed a cool bedroom. This suite was for the Harbour’s wealthiest, most influential patients. It was more a suite of rooms than a bedroom.

      Dr Evie Lockheart’s family were principal benefactors of this hospital. They were Sydney’s answer to royalty and what royalty decreed, royalty received.

      Royalty had obviously decreed Lily deserved this bedroom and Luke wasn’t arguing.

      He should pull his hand away. He didn’t.

      He’d been sitting here for the last ten minutes, watching her sleep. Her curls were sprawled over the pillows. She was stained and battered.

      She’d fought and she’d won. For Tom.

      He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Had Tom taught him nothing?

      He remembered the first time Tom had come to collect him from boarding school. It had been his first week there, aged all of ten, and to say it had been ghastly was an understatement.

      ‘You teach yourself you don’t need anyone,’ Tom had growled. ‘You grow up tough and you stay tough.’

      That’s what his father had said when he refused to pay for the removal of the birthmark. ‘It’ll make you tough.’

      He’d sent him away, though. Tom had been raised with the same philosophy, had learned the hard way how it worked, but he’d bent the rules.

      He’d cared for Luke.

      Luke now cared for Tom in a way he hadn’t realised. He’d thought the only person he’d ever fallen in love with was Hannah. It wasn’t true, though. Seeing Tom’s life hang so precariously, he knew he was exposed to pain all over again. And now this slip of a girl, who’d hung on for over an hour, knowing if she moved a sliver of an inch they’d lose …

      It was her bravery that moved him, he told himself, not the woman herself, but he knew it was much more.

      He thought of her suddenly on Glenfiddich, and the dread surfaced. He thought of Tom and the chainsaw.

      When Luke had been fifteen Tom had been bitten by a snake. He’d recovered but Luke remembered thinking, If he dies I have no one.

      ‘Don’t watch me if you’re worried,’ Tom had snapped, and Luke had been trying not to watch ever since.

      It wasn’t working.

      ‘I’m sorry I overreacted about Glenfiddich,’ he said. ‘Give me another six months to train him and you can ride him all you like.’

      ‘All by myself?’ she demanded, mock-awed. ‘Will you buy me a stepladder to climb up with?’

      ‘Lily …’

      ‘No, it’s a very generous offer,’ she whispered. ‘Sorry. I should have asked before I rode him.’

      ‘And I should have stayed home with you.’

      ‘Watching me in case I did anything dangerous?’ she asked, her eyes clouding. ‘Is that the problem? Is that why you can’t stay with Tom—because you can’t bear that he does dangerous things whether you’re watching or not?’

      ‘That’s deep,’ he said, and tried a smile. ‘Have you been talking to John Allen?’

      ‘I don’t need a psychologist to figure out something’s wrong. Luke, go away.’

      But her hand didn’t disengage from his.

      ‘You want me to leave?’

      ‘I need to take a shower. I’m fine. Fainting was just a reaction. Even the strongest woman might have been tempted to faint, so a wuss like me …’

      She was laughing again! After all she’d been through …

      She was enchanting.

      Love …

      Whoa.

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