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the water running in rivulets down her straight spine, in long lines down to her painted pink toes.

      The pink toes had been haunting him. It was practically the only part of her skin that could freely be seen. Unlike the rest of the crew on the island, Rachel had kept herself well covered up. T-shirts and long shorts coupled with socks and hiking boots were the flavour of the day. Even in the evening she wore long pants and long-sleeved T-shirts. The only part visible were her toes.

      All his memories of nights with Rachel had revolved around short satin nightdresses and shoestring straps. There certainly hadn’t been a lack of skin.

      And it certainly wasn’t helping his male libido. His imagination was currently working overtime. He needed to find himself a distraction, a hobby. But finding something else to do on this island was proving harder than he’d thought.

      He’d put a call through to Len to see what his plans were for later. Maybe a hike around the island would help him think about other things.

      Nathan was just replacing his phone when the door opened. Ron walked in, panting heavily, with a strange expression on his face and his signature sweat marks on his grey T-shirt.

      He really didn’t look great. His face was highly coloured with beads of sweat on his brow. Nathan stood up quickly and helped him over to the examination trolley, lifting his legs up onto it and helping him to rest back.

      He could hear Ron rasping for breath so he switched on the monitoring equipment, connected it and pulled an oxygen mask over Ron’s face.

      ‘How long have you been feeling unwell?’

      ‘Just … today,’ Ron wheezed.

      The blood pressure cuff started to inflate. ‘Ron, are you having any chest pain?’

      Ron frowned. ‘Not really. Well … maybe a little.’

      Great. He’d suspected Ron wasn’t feeling great but he hadn’t responded to any of Nathan’s invitations to be checked over. Right now, he had heart attack written all over him.

      Nathan looked at the reading on the monitor and opened the drug cabinet, taking out an aspirin. First line treatment for an MI. Actually—the only treatment they had on this island. Not ideal. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. ‘Here, take this.’ He handed Ron the tablet and a glass of water.

      ‘Not really pain.’ Ron continued. ‘Just indigestion.’

      ‘Indigestion? How often?’

      Ron thumped the glass of water back down; even taking a sip had been an effort. ‘Every day,’ he gasped.

      Nathan raised his eyebrows. ‘Ever had problems with your blood pressure?’

      Ron gave a nod.

      ‘Does your indigestion come on when you’re working?’

      Another nod.

      ‘Does it ever go down your arm?’

      Ron’s high colour started to pale. The oxygen was finally getting into his system and his heart rate was starting to steady.

      ‘How bad is your indigestion today?’

      ‘B … bad.’

      ‘Feels like something is pressing on your chest?’

      Nathan stood at the side of the examination trolley. He watched the monitor closely. It gave a clear tracing of Ron’s heart rate. The PQRS waves were all visible. No ST elevation. ‘The good news is you’re not having a heart attack. The bad news is you’ve probably got angina—and had it for quite a while. I’m going to give you a spray under your tongue to see if that eases the tightness across your chest.’

      It only took a second to administer the spray and another few minutes for it to take effect. Nathan frowned. In a way it was a relief that angina was Ron’s problem but on an island this would be difficult. Uncontrolled angina could easily lead to a heart attack. Ron really needed to be reviewed by a cardiologist. Chances were, an angiogram would reveal blocked arteries that would need to be stented and cleared. He could just imagine how Ron would take the news. But keeping him here would be dangerous. They didn’t have the equipment that would be needed if Ron did have a heart attack. Apart from aspirin, they didn’t have any clot-busting drugs.

      ‘Ron, I think you probably know this isn’t indigestion you’ve been having. It looks like angina. You need a twelve-lead ECG, a cardiac echo and an angiogram—none of which we can do here.’

      Ron waved his hand. ‘I can get all that when we get back to the mainland. I’ll be fine until then.’

      Nathan sat down next to the examination trolley. ‘It’s too big a risk. Tell the truth, Ron; you’re having angina every time you exert yourself.’ He nodded at the monitor. ‘Your blood pressure is too high and you’re constantly out of breath. Your heart is working too hard because the blood vessels aren’t clear. You need to see a cardiologist.’

      Ron shook his head. ‘Forget it. I’ll be fine.’

      ‘No, you won’t.’ Nathan turned at the voice. Rachel was standing at the doorway, wearing her trademark pink. This time it wasn’t a T-shirt and long shorts. This time it was a pink summer dress. She must have been down on the beach. His eyes went immediately to her painted toenails, visible in her flat jewelled sandals.

      She walked over next to the trolley and put her hand in Ron’s. He met her gaze immediately. Rachel had the people-person touch. In A & E you rarely got a chance to form any kind of a relationship with your patients. Medical physicians were different. They frequently saw their patients year on year.

      ‘Ron, it’s time to look after yourself. This really can’t wait. Tell me honestly—how long have you been having these symptoms?’

      Ron hesitated. His breathing had gradually improved. ‘A few months.’

      ‘Have you seen anyone about this?’

      He shook his head. ‘I’ve just kept taking my blood pressure tablets.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘I did think it was indigestion.’ He pulled a pack of a well-known brand of antacids from his pocket. ‘I’ve been going through half a packet of these a day.’

      Nathan could tell that Rachel was hiding a wince behind her smile. ‘If your symptoms have been getting worse then it’s definitely time for some investigations. We don’t need to call a medevac to get you off the island, but we can arrange for you to go back by seaplane. We can arrange that for tomorrow. In the meantime I’ll give you a spray and some instructions on how to use it. I don’t want you going back to work. I want you to rest.’

      Nathan watched carefully. For some reason Ron seemed to relate better to Rachel’s instructions than his. She had a gift for talking to patients. Her tone was firm but friendly. He liked it.

      His time working for Doctors Without Borders had been fraught. There had hardly been any time for conversations like this. As soon as he finished patching one patient—he was on to the next. There was barely time to think, let alone speak.

      He sucked in a breath for a second. Something else had just struck him. He’d spent five years working with people, but not getting close—never staying in one place long enough to form true relationships. That thought started to chip away at his brain as he watched Rachel empathise and relate to Ron.

      Rachel squeezed Ron’s hand. ‘Stay here for the next few hours, then I’ll take you down to the canteen for dinner. We can have a further talk about things then.’

      It was almost as if a giant weight had been lifted from Ron’s shoulders. He sighed and rested back on the examination trolley, letting his eyes close. ‘Dinner with a beautiful woman,’ he muttered. ‘I’d be a fool to say no.’

      Rachel shot Nathan a smile—a smile that sent a little jolt all the way down his body. Maybe it was her humanity that was drawing him in. Even though he knew better, he’d spent the last few years labelling Rachel as heartless

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