Secrets In Sydney. Emily Forbes

didn’t come. They continued to feel thick and heavy. ‘Clamp!’

      He grabbed it with his left hand and saw surprise raise the scrub nurse’s brows.

      ‘Hurry up, Finn,’ David urged. ‘Much longer and there’ll be more blood in the suction bottle than in the patient.’

      Blood spewed, the scream of monitors deafened and sweat poured into his eyes. You’re losing him. ‘Just do your job, David, and I’ll do mine.’ He snarled out the words as he managed to apply the clamp.

      He flexed his fingers on his right hand, willing the sensation to return to his thumb and index finger. He could do some things with his left hand but he couldn’t sew. He accepted the threaded needle from the scrub nurse and could see the thread resting against the pad of his thumb. He couldn’t feel it. With leaden fingers he started to oversew the vein but the thread fell from his numb fingers. He cursed and tried to pick it up but the lack of sensation had him misjudging it. He dropped it again.

      Another set of fingers entered the field, firmly pushing the sucker against his left palm and deftly picking up the thread. With a few quick and dexterous flicks, the registrar completed the oversewing before taking back the suction.

      Finn’s throat tightened and he swallowed down the roar of frustrated fury that she’d taken over. That she’d needed to take over. He barked out, ‘Remove the clamp.’

      Hayley removed the clamp. All eyes stared down.

      The field mercifully stayed clear of blood.

      ‘Lucky save, Finn,’ said David from behind the screen.

      Except David hadn’t seen who’d stopped the bleeding.

      Brown eyes slowly met Finn’s but there was no sign of triumph in the registrar’s gaze, or even a need for recognition that she’d been the one to save the patient. Instead, there was only a question. One very similar to the query he’d seen on Luke’s face. And on Evie’s.

      Don’t go there. He stared at Hayley. ‘And next, Ms Grey?’

      ‘We complete the resection of the right side of the liver?’

      ‘And you’ve done that before?’

      ‘I have, yes, during elective surgery.’

      The pain in his arm grew spikes and the numbness in his finger and thumb remained. Any hope that it would fade in the next few minutes had long passed. ‘Good. You’re going to do it again.’ He stepped back from the table and stripped off his gloves then spoke to remind her of hospital protocol.

      ‘Oh, and, Ms Grey, as surgical registrar you must attend the series of lectures that start today. They count toward your professional hours. Your log book needs to be verified and notify my secretary of the conferences you wish to attend so they can be balanced off with the other registrars’ requirements.’

      He didn’t wait for a reply. As chief of surgery it was his prerogative to leave closing up to the minions. The fact that today he’d needed to scared him witless.

      Hayley accepted the tallest and strongest coffee the smiling barista said she could make and hoped the caffeine would kick in fast. The plan for the day had been to sleep and arrive just in time for the six o’clock lecture, but the moment her head had hit the pillow she’d been called in to work again due to a colleague’s illness. This time she’d found herself scrubbed in with the chief of surgery. Finn Kennedy was every thing everyone said—tall, brusque and brilliant. The way he’d finger-dissected their patient’s liver to save his life had been breathtaking. But his gruff manner and barked commands made it impossible to relax around him. Cognisant of the fact that he was her direct boss, she’d been determined to make a good impression. Ironically, she’d effectively killed that idea by acting on pure instinct and taking over in mid-surgery when he hadn’t been able to make the closure. She’d fully expected Mr Kennedy to order her out of his theatre, but instead he’d been the one to leave. She wondered if she’d be reprimanded later.

      Probably. She sighed, not wanting to think about it, so she set it aside like she did a lot of things—a survival habit she’d adopted at eleven. She’d deal with it if it ever happened. Right now, she needed to deal with no sleep in twenty-four hours and staying awake through an hour-long lecture. Some of the lecturers were so dry and boring that even when she wasn’t exhausted she had trouble staying awake. She’d been so busy operating she hadn’t even caught up with the topic, but she hoped it was riveting because otherwise she’d be snoring within five minutes.

      Gripping her traveller coffee mug, she walked toward the lecture theatre and stifled a slightly hysterical laugh.

      She’d always known that training to become a surgeon would be a tough gig and she wasn’t afraid of hard work, but it had become apparent that operating was the easy part of the training. It was all the lectures, tutorials, seminars and conferences that came on top of her regular workload that made it unbelievably challenging. Even with all the extra work and the fact she had no desire for a social life, she could have just managed to cope, but lately her chronic insomnia, which she’d previously be able to manage, was starting to get on top of her. Had she been able to get more than three hours’ sleep in twenty-four she could function, but that wasn’t possible now she had to work more days than nights. She preferred night work, but as she was in her final year, she needed more elective surgery experience, which meant working more days.

      She paused outside the lecture theatre, wondering why the foyer was so quiet, and then she glanced at her watch. She was early. No matter, she’d take the opportunity to hide up at the back of the lecture hall and take a quick ten-minute power-nap. She’d doze while she waited for the coffee to kick in. Her colleagues always used the dark on-call room but for her the brighter the light, the better she slept. She gripped the heavy door’s handle and pulled.

      Tom heard the click of the door opening and immediately breathed in the heart-starting aroma of strong, black coffee. A buzz of irritation zipped through him. Had the IT guy stopped for coffee, even though he’d already kept him waiting for fifteen minutes? Tom had deliberately booked him half an hour earlier than his lecture start time to avoid any stress on the run-up to the Jared-less evening lecture, but right now he could feel his control of the situation slipping due to his unwanted dependence on others. He tried to clamp down on the surge of frustration that filled him, but it broke through his lips.

      ‘It’s about damn time. I’ve attempted to connect the computer myself, but there’s no sound.’ The person didn’t reply and Tom turned, seeking out the shadowy outline. As he did, he caught the hint of an undertone of a floral scent. A very feminine scent. He let out a low groan. ‘You’re not the IT guy, are you?’

      ‘Should I be?’

      ‘I would have preferred it.’

      ‘Sorry to disappoint you.’

      Her seductively husky voice, edged with a touch of sarcasm, swirled around him, leaving him in no doubt he was speaking to Hayley Grey. An image of soft, creamy breasts exploded in his head and he tried to shake it away. ‘That’s hellishly strong coffee you’re drinking.’

      ‘It’s been a hellish kind of a day.’ She sighed as if standing in the lecture hall was the last place on earth she wanted to be.

      He knew exactly how that felt.

      ‘Do you need a hand, Mr Jordan?’

      I need eyes. He forced his clenched fingers to relax and ran them over his braille watch, realising that the IT technician was now twenty minutes late. Need won out over pride. ‘Do you know anything about computers?’

      A lilting laugh washed over him. ‘I can turn one on and off.’

      ‘I suppose I’ll have to work with that, then.’ God, he hated incompetence and right now he was ready to lynch the absent IT professional. It was bad enough having to ask for help let alone be supported by someone who didn’t have the skills he needed. ‘Can you follow instructions?’

      He