The Most Precious Bundle of All

‘Shouldn’t we wait?’

‘Absolutely not. I’m almost certain. Brad needs the blockage cleared—either an angioplasty or clot aspiration—and the sooner the better. I’m the attending, so the decision is mine.’

Olivia’s pulse was racing and she wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it had something to do with the way his grey-blue eyes locked onto hers. She shook her head slightly in an attempt to regain her focus. He was right. This was his area of expertise. She was letting her peculiar reaction to him make her flustered, behave out of character and question his judgement.

‘I’m happy to wait to see what the radiologists have to say,’ David continued mildly, ‘but I’m convinced they’ll confirm my diagnosis. We can discuss it before speaking to his wife about his treatment options. Okay?’

Olivia forced a smile. ‘Fine by me.’

She turned to the head ER nurse, who had been watching the exchange with obvious amusement. ‘Kelly, is there anything you need me for in the next hour or so?’

‘If there is, I’ll page you. There are other doctors on duty, you know.’ It was a barbed reference to the fact that Olivia liked to be involved in as many cases as she could. Apart from Kelly, Olivia was often first in and last out. As chief resident, the work of the interns was her overall responsibility—a responsibility she took very seriously indeed. Just because she was going on maternity leave in a few months was no reason to let her standards slip.

David reached across Olivia and swooped down on the box of doughnuts. ‘Worth coming down here just for this,’ he said as he took a bite out of one.

Olivia glanced at her watch. ‘We don’t have time.’ She reached across and removed the remains of the doughnut from his hand and chucked it in the bin. David stared. He lifted an eyebrow and grinned.

Kelly looked at Olivia and then at David. ‘You’re causing a bit of a ruckus in my department, young man. I just hope you’re as good a surgeon as everyone says you are.’

Upstairs in Radiology, Olivia watched as they injected dye through the arterial catheter in Brad’s groin. David murmured something to the radiologist when almost immediately a blocked vessel showed up on the screen. ‘There’s our culprit. The vessel wall looks quite normal so it must be blocked by a fresh blood clot,’ David said. He turned to Olivia. ‘There’s no time to talk to his wife—we have to remove it.’

The radiologist inserted a suction adapter onto the groin catheter and Olivia held her breath as he carefully sucked out the clot. Within minutes Brad’s eyes opened briefly to the call of his name and he appeared to look at them purposefully.

David lifted his head and grinned at her. ‘Pretty impressive, huh?’

Olivia nodded. It was a procedure she hadn’t witnessed before. And as David had said, it was pretty dramatic.

‘I’ll let his wife know he’s regained consciousness,’ she said.

She left the X-ray suite and hurried back downstairs, Kelly’s words echoing in her mind. David might be as good a surgeon as everyone said he was. Pity about the rest.

Olivia tossed her car keys onto the table by the door before going into the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of water. The remainder of her shift in the ER had been hectic. Not long after she’d come back down from Radiology a multiple RTA had come in. It had been an hour after her shift was due to finish when they’d finally sorted everyone out and either sent them home or to the OR. Thankfully all the casualties had survived.

She tipped some dog food into Bouncer’s bowl, which he devoured in three quick mouthfuls. When he looked up at her hopefully she shook her head.

‘No, you know you’ll get fat, Bouncer. I’m doing this for your own good. I’ll take you for a walk in a moment.’ Bouncer, her three-year-old Labrador, attended doggy day care whenever Olivia was on duty. It meant a detour on the way to and from the hospital, but he was worth it. She shouldn’t really have a dog at all, she knew that, not with the hours she worked, but he was company for her and taking him for long walks kept her fit.

Taking her water through to the sitting room, she eased off her shoes and rubbed her aching feet. Bouncer plonked himself next to her and laid his head on her knee, nudging her arm with his wet nose.

‘Okay, bossy boots, I get the message. You want your head scratched.’ Rubbing Bouncer’s golden fur, she clicked on the TV remote. Not that she really wanted to watch the news or follow some trashy reality show, it was more to fill the house with noise. When she and Richard had first viewed the house in Sea Cliff, they’d both known instantly it was the perfect forever home for them. It had spectacular views of the Golden Gate Bridge and the Pacific, and with its six bedrooms and three reception rooms had been more than large enough to entertain Richard’s business colleagues and clients. Most importantly, though, it was spacious enough to be filled with the children they had both longed to have together.

Now, without him in it, it just felt big and cold and empty. She’d considered selling it several times since Richard had died, but at first she hadn’t wanted to leave the house that still smelled of him, still held his memory in every room—especially the uncompleted nursery. Then, when the shadow of grief had lifted and she’d returned to work, she’d simply been too busy. Perhaps now was the right time to find a new home for her and the baby? Somewhere cosy with a smaller, more manageable garden and a playroom? Of course she would always miss Richard, and she would have his baby to remember him by, but the life they had shared was in the past. Hadn’t she promised herself a new start? Wasn’t having this baby the beginning of that? But with work and her pregnancy it was unlikely she’d get around to finding somewhere else to live now.

It wasn’t as if money was a problem. Richard had left her so well off that she’d never have to work again if she didn’t want to. But she did want to work. It was what kept her sane. She’d have to stop, of course, for a while at least, when this baby came along, but eventually she’d go back. Being single, she’d have to employ a nanny but, assuming she found the right person, that would be okay. She’d already asked an agency to start looking.

She placed a hand over her swelling stomach. ‘Not too long now, baby,’ she whispered. She should be relishing this brief interlude of peace and quiet, because when the baby came there wouldn’t be much of it. Not that she didn’t yearn to hold her child. Even another twenty-two weeks seemed an eternity.

She rested her head on the back of the couch and unexpectedly an image of David filled her mind. What was it about him that made her react the way she did? She’d never been attracted to his type before. The type that thought all he had to do was smile and a woman would melt.

She grimaced. To be honest, she had melted. Just a little bit. She’d liked the frank and blatant approval in his eyes. It had made her tingle, and that had made her feel good. More than good—it had made her feel alive. What woman wouldn’t feel flattered being admired by such a devastatingly attractive man? Until he’d seen her bump, of course. Then she had disappeared so far off his radar she might as well have been in outer space. Olivia tutted. Dr David Stuart might be gorgeous but he wasn’t for her. Especially now. All her love, affection and attention were going to be devoted to the child growing inside her—Richard’s child and hers. All things considered, David would have to remain where he belonged. In the realms of fantasy.

Bouncer was snoring contentedly so Olivia eased herself off the couch, careful not to disturb him. She crossed over to the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. The lights of the Golden Gate Bridge twinkled in the night sky and a gentle breeze carried the sounds of distant traffic. Strange how this view always seemed to soothe her and fill her with renewed energy and hope. Perhaps it was the reminder that life went on, no matter how much you wanted time to stand still. And, oh, my God, Richard, I wanted time to stop before you died. But it hadn’t and she’d had to come to terms with life without him. She wrapped her arms around herself. In a few months she would have their baby and at least a part of Richard would live on.

CHAPTER TWO

OLIVIA bent over her patient in Resus as the nurses cut away his shirt and trousers. The accompanying paramedic recited the known facts about the casualty.

According to witnesses, a truck had made a right turn and his wing mirror had knocked the cyclist from his bike. The lorry driver was shocked but unharmed. When it came to a battle between a ten-ton truck and a push bike there was only ever one winner.

The cyclist was already wired to the monitors. His pulse was slow and his breathing shallow. She opened an eyelid and shone her torch. The pupil of the left eye did as it was supposed to, but the other was blown.

Very gently she removed his helmet, noting the blood stains on the back. Quickly she palpated along the skull until she found what she was looking for—a depression a couple of inches above the neck. Unconscious, skull fracture, unequal pupils—it all added up. He must have a haematoma causing compression of the brain stem.

‘I need a consult from Neuro,’ she said briskly. But, as always, the nurse had anticipated her order and was already on the phone.

‘They’re just finishing in Theatre. Someone will be here as soon as they can.’

‘Tell them I need them here, stat,’ Olivia said. Her patient had to have the pressure in his head relieved, and as soon as possible. With every second that passed his brain was swelling, pushing against the rigid bones of the skull.

‘I’ve found some ID,’ one of the nurses called out. ‘Your patient’s name is Mark Lightbody. He’s thirty-three. There’s also a number for his wife. I’ll give her a call and tell her to come.’

Olivia nodded. Poor Mrs Lightbody was about to have her day—possibly her life—ruined.

Mark was unconscious, and although he was still breathing unaided, she had to intubate him to secure his airway and maintain his oxygen levels. The measures she’d taken would keep him stable for a while, but surgery was the only way to relieve the growing pressure on his brain. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Five minutes had passed since Kelly had phoned. Where the hell was the neurosurgeon?

Just when she was about to insist that Kelly phone again, the swing doors burst open and Dr Stuart strode in. She’d only seen him in passing since that first day and she was dismayed to note that her already escalated pulse upped another notch.

‘What do you have for me?’ he asked her as Candice stepped forward with a disposable gown.

‘Mark Lightbody. Cyclist with an occipital skull fracture. GCS six. Right pupil fixed and dilated. Left pupil responding normally. Apart from the injury to his head, he has only minor cuts and lacerations. He needs emergency surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain.’

David grinned. ‘Doesn’t the attending—as in me—usually make that decision?’

As he was talking he was examining Mark. ‘But I have to agree. Unfortunately the theatre is still being scrubbed after our last case. It will take at least ten minutes to get another ready. He needs a craniotomy, so we’ll have to do it here.’

‘Here?’ Olivia echoed.

‘No reason why not. I assume you have a tray set up for that purpose?’

‘Yes, but shouldn’t we wait to get him to the OR?’

‘It will take time to get him to the OR. Time he doesn’t have—not unless we want to risk him dying or ending up severely brain damaged. In my opinion, doing a craniotomy here and now is his best chance. Now, we can waste more time by arguing, in which case I suggest you step out and attend to other patients, or we can get on with the procedure.’

Olivia felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She hadn’t been objecting to carrying out the procedure, just querying whether it would be better to wait until they’d taken him to Theatre. However, every minute they wasted arguing was time Mark didn’t have. She bit back the sharp retort that had risen to her lips and nodded. ‘I’ll stay and assist.’

The insufferable arrogance of the man. However, she wasn’t about to rise to the bait.

‘In fact,’ he said, ‘why don’t you do it while I assist?’

Olivia felt a frisson of excitement. She always grabbed any opportunity to acquire additional skills. His confidence in her was flattering and his aura of self-confidence immensely reassuring. Not all the attendings were prepared to teach the ER residents. ‘Thanks. I’d like to,’ she replied.

She scrubbed while Kelly set up the tray and one of the other nurses shaved Mark’s blood-matted hair and prepped the surgical field.

‘Good. I’ll show you how to get started then you can take over.’

David made a wide incision in the scalp below the dent in Mark’s head and peeled back the skin to expose an obvious depressed fracture of the skull. ‘This is the interesting bit. Take these elevators …’ he handed her two ‘… and lift the bone fragments up out of the way.’

Everyone seemed to hold their breath as Olivia did as David asked.

As soon as she’d lifted the shattered bone out of the way, a fat red blood clot bulged out towards her. Slowly and very carefully she removed the clotted blood and a satisfied glow spread through her as Mark’s vitals immediately improved.

She grinned at David. When he smiled back something seemed to tilt inside her chest, making her catch her breath. She dipped her head and concentrated on replacing the bone.

‘Good job, Dr Simpson. I’ll get him into the OR, patch up the skull fracture properly and repair the scalp incision.’

David peeled off his plastic apron and dropped it in the bin. The two ER nurses who were standing by exchanged smiles.

‘Could we get him up to the OR pronto?’ David asked. He removed his protective goggles and winked—winked!—at one of the nurses, who blushed furiously.

‘Thank you, Doctor,’ Olivia said stiffly. ‘We’ll get that organised.’

David indicated with a nod of his head that she accompany him outside. Olivia went with him, knowing if she didn’t he was likely to have his say in front of the staff.

But to her amazement he didn’t launch into an attack. ‘I meant what I said back there. Good work,’ he said. ‘You have the steady, delicate touch of a surgeon.’

Instinctively Olivia looked down at her hands. Did he guess that at one time she’d thought of being a surgeon? But that had been before Richard had become ill. Then the long hours and years the training would have required had been out of the question. She’d never regretted the decision, and when Richard had gone into remission and they’d decided to grab the chance to have a family, her dream of becoming a surgeon had faded into second place. The hours she’d worked in the ER had been long and hard enough as it was.

‘I wasn’t trying to argue with you earlier,’ she said quietly. ‘I was only wondering whether it would be better for our patient to wait until we got him to ER.’

His grin grew wider. ‘Hey, think nothing of it.’ He winked again, then his smile vanished and he lowered his voice. ‘Despite anything you might have heard about me, or will hear, I’m a bloody good surgeon. It is the one thing I take seriously. I expect we will brush up against each other in ER pretty often, so it is as well that you know.’

Brush up against each other! To her mortification an image of them brushing up against each other flashed into her mind. And it didn’t have anything to do with being in the emergency room. The blood rushed to her cheeks. Good God, did every pregnant woman’s brain turn to mush like this? Or was there something wrong with her?

‘I don’t intend to tussle with you every time we disagree about how to treat a patient,’ David continued. ‘Just as I won’t argue with you when you make an ER decision.’ He shot her a quizzical look but his eyes were glinting. ‘Hey, is it warm in here or what?’

‘They always keep the ER too warm,’ she said as nonchalantly as she could.

Candice came out of Resus and hurried towards them.

‘They say they’ll be ready for you in the OR in ten minutes, Dr Stuart.’

Without warning, an image of Mark’s exposed brain flashed back into Olivia’s mind, but instead of Mark she saw Richard on the operating table. To her mortification, her eyes filled. This damn pregnancy was playing hell with her emotions.

David seemed to do a double take and the smile left his eyes. ‘Damn. You’re crying. Is it something I said?’

Even more mortified, Olivia tried a smile. She blinked the tears away and pointed to her face. ‘Pregnancy hormones. Sorry. They’ve turned me into the oddest person—someone I don’t recognise.’

A strange expression crossed David’s face. Had she not known better she would have said it was regret, but just at that moment a white-faced woman carrying a toddler rushed through the doors and up to the reception desk. ‘I’m Mrs Lightbody. I understand my husband, Mark, is here. Where is he? Is he all right?’

‘Shall we have a word?’ David asked, tilting his head in the woman’s direction. ‘Or I can do it alone, if you need a moment.’

Olivia grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter and blew her nose. Then she looked him in the eye. ‘See! Back to a normal person. Told you it wouldn’t last. Let’s go and put Mark’s wife out of her misery.’

That evening Olivia left the ER later than usual. She was tired, and the thought of going home to her empty home held little appeal. She groaned as she remembered that she hadn’t been shopping for a while and ran a mental inventory of her fridge contents in her head. A couple of eggs, some stale bread and orange juice. That was it. Damn.

Although she wasn’t hungry, she had to think about the baby. Not for the first time, she sent a silent prayer heavenwards when she thought of the deli a few streets away from where she lived. It had a few tables and served delicious home-cooked meals. She ate there at least once a week.

As she stepped out into the car park, she saw a familiar figure bent over a bicycle. David was studying a flat tyre and looking around as if he expected a replacement wheel to appear out of nowhere. She’d passed him once or twice on her way into work and he had always been on his bike. It had surprised her. If anything, she would have expected him to ride a Harley-Davidson or a sports car. Maybe he did it for effect? He probably knew that he looked pretty damn sexy in his sleeveless T-shirt and cycling shorts. God! Now she was getting all hot under the collar again.

For a moment she was tempted to walk past as if she hadn’t seen him. She really was too tired to deal with someone as exhausting as David, but then good manners got the better of her. He’d helped her the other day, so she could hardly leave him to his own devices.

‘Problem?’ she asked. When he looked up her breath caught in her throat. He really was the most astonishingly good-looking man, despite the five-o’clock shadow that looked as if it were about to become a beard. Was he trying to grow one? That would be a pity. It would cover his face and she really didn’t like the feel of a beard against her skin.

Dismayed, she gave herself a mental shake. Where were these thoughts coming from? Hadn’t she told herself that she was not interested in David—beard or no beard—or any man, for that matter?

David smiled ruefully. ‘Thought it was a puncture and was about to fix it when I saw that the tyre has been shredded.’ He pointed to the tyre and Olivia saw what he meant. It looked as if it had been slashed. Perhaps the boyfriend of one of David’s conquests had decided on revenge?

‘I don’t suppose you happen to have a spare in that trunk of yours?’ Although he grinned, fatigue dampened the sparkle in his eyes. It was seven in the evening and, like most of the doctors in the hospital, he’d probably been in well before rounds at eight. So he had likely done at least a twelve-hour day, most of which would have been on his feet in Theatre.

‘No. I have everything in there—kitchen sink included—except a spare. But I can give you a lift if you like.’

He stood up and stretched. She’d forgotten how tall he was. He topped her five feet seven inches by at least half a foot.

‘Would you? That would be great.’

‘Jump in,’ she said.

She hid a smile as she watched him fold his long legs into the passenger seat. It would be an uncomfortable journey for him, but better than walking or waiting for a cab.

‘Where to?’ she asked as she pulled out of the car park.

He named a suburb that bordered the one where Olivia lived.

‘You’re not far from me. I live in Sea Cliff.’

He whistled through his teeth. ‘They must pay ER residents better than I thought.’

She decided to ignore his comment. ‘I have to make a short detour to pick up my dog, if that’s okay.’

‘Sure.’ He pulled his mobile out of his pocket and flicked through his contacts. ‘Will you excuse me for a moment?’ He threw a smile in her direction as he pressed the call button. ‘Have to cancel my date. She’s going to be as mad as hell, but by the time I get washed up we’ll have missed the first act.’ He grinned. ‘Opera’s not my style anyway. I would probably fall asleep before the first scene was over.’

She smiled briefly and concentrated on the traffic. His love life was no business of hers.

When he’d finished his call, which, judging by the one-sided version Olivia heard, didn’t go down very well until he promised to make it up to her—whoever she was—soon, he turned his attention to her again.

‘I suspect Melissa and I are heading for dumpsville. It doesn’t matter how often you tell people that your work comes first, they never quite believe it, do they? In that respect, it’s easier going out with another medic. At least they understand.’

His words made her think of Richard. He hadn’t been in the profession, quite the opposite. He’d been the CEO of a large multinational company, but he’d always understood how important her job was, just as she’d understood that he’d needed to work the hours he had. Perhaps, given their busy schedules, if they hadn’t met when they’d still been in college, they would never have ended up together. As it was, she could only regret the hours that they hadn’t spent with each other. If only they’d known their time together was going to be so short.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, it wasn’t until she pulled up outside the doggy day-care centre that she noticed at some point during the journey David had fallen asleep. God, she knew the need to nap wherever and whenever so well—most doctors learned the knack early on in their careers. In sleep he looked younger and, without the swagger, more vulnerable. He really did need a shave, she thought distractedly, trying not to notice that his lips were full, and even in sleep he looked as if he was on the verge of smiling.

Just as she was about to reach over and give him a small shake, his eyes snapped open and he was instantly alert.

‘God, I hope you weren’t in mid-sentence when I zoned out?’

‘How long were you on duty today?’ she asked.

He frowned. ‘Dunno. Last time I was home was yesterday morning. I stayed in the hospital last night. I slept in the on-call room for a couple of hours. Between two and four, I think it was.’

‘You were on overnight? And during the day too? That can’t be good—for you or your patients!’

He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Don’t you go all mumsy on me. I know my limits. As long as I get a couple of hours’ decent sleep, I’m usually fine.’

Mumsy? Had he just called her mumsy?

‘I won’t be a moment,’ she said, and hopped out of the car. When she returned with Bouncer, who looked dismayed to find someone in his seat, David was, once more, out for the count.

Bouncer barked at Olivia apologetically before jumping onto David’s lap.

‘What the hell …?’ David’s eyes snapped open again and he pushed at Bouncer, who was clearly not intending to move.