Italian Doctor, No Strings Attached. Kate Hardy

to have to put a needle in, but it’s not going to hurt. Is that OK?’

      Colin gave a weary nod.

      Marco handed her a cannula.

      ‘Thanks, Marco.’ She smiled in acknowledgement, and for a second Marco was lost in a mad memory about what her mouth had felt like against his.

      But this wasn’t the time or the place to think about that. They had a seriously ill patient who needed their help.

      She inserted the cannula in the second intercostal space, withdrew the needle and listened for the hiss of gas. ‘Great, that’s it,’ she said. ‘Colin, now I need to put a chest drain in, to take off any fluid and gases that shouldn’t be there and keep you comfortable.’ She explained the procedure swiftly to him. ‘I’m going to give you extra pain relief so you’re not going to feel anything, but I need your consent for me to treat you.’

      Colin lifted the mask away. ‘Do whatever you have to. I’m in your hands,’ he mumbled.

      ‘OK, sweetheart. I promise I’m going to be as gentle as I can.’

      Stella, one of the senior nurses, cleaned Colin’s skin and covered it with sterile drapes. Marco handed Sydney the syringe and she injected local anaesthetic, prepared the chest drain and then inserted it. He was impressed by how smoothly and confidently she did it; Ellen had been spot on in her assessment of the younger doctor’s skills.

      He kept an eye on the monitors. ‘Heart and BP are both fine. Do you want me to write up the notes as you do the assessment?’

      ‘That’d be good. Thanks.’

      She checked Colin over very gently and Marco wrote up the notes as she went. ‘Suspected multiple rib fractures,’ she said, ‘but no sign of a flail segment. That’s good news, Colin.’ She checked the distal pulses and the sensation in his broken arm. ‘I think you’ve fractured your elbow, so I’m going to refer you to our orthopaedic surgeon to fix that for you.’ Finally, she took a sample for blood gases.

      ‘OK, Colin, I’m all done here. I’m going to send you for chest X-ray so we can check out your ribs; I think you’ve broken several, but hopefully they’re not complicated breaks. I also want to check out your arm properly for the surgeon. Is there anyone we can call for you while you’re in X-Ray?’

      ‘My wife, Janey.’ He rattled off a number, which Marco wrote down.

      ‘I’ll call her,’ Sydney promised.

      ‘And I’ll take you to X-Ray,’ Marco said.

      ‘Do you know where it is?’ Sydney mouthed, so Colin couldn’t see.

      ‘I can read the signs,’ Marco mouthed back with a grin.

      She gave him the cheekiest wink he’d ever seen, and he was still smiling by the time he got to the X-ray department.

      She was working on the driver of the car when he got back to Resus, and sent him off for observation for possible concussion. By the time she’d finished, Colin’s X-rays were ready on the system for review.

      ‘Want to look at these with me?’ she asked.

      ‘Sure.’

      She peered closely at the screen. ‘Hmm. Not all fractures show up on a chest X-ray, but it looks as if I’m right and it’s not flail chest, so that’s a good start.’ She grimaced at the X-ray of Colin’s elbow. ‘That’s a mess. It’s going to need fixators. I’ll refer him to the orthopods and warn them that he’s already had a pneumothorax.’

      She went back over to Colin. ‘I’ve had a look at the X-rays. The good news is that your ribs will heal by themselves, though it’s going to be a bit painful for you over the next few days. But your elbow’s going to need pinning, so I’m going to take you out to one of the cubicles to wait for the orthopaedic surgeon, and he’ll take you to Theatre to fix your arm.’

      Colin removed the oxygen mask. ‘Janey?’

      ‘She’s on her way. And if you’re already in Theatre by the time she gets here, our receptionists know to call me, and I’ll take her up to the right waiting area and make sure she’s looked after.’

      ‘Thank you.’ His voice sounded choked. ‘I …’

      She laid her hand on his uninjured arm to reassure him. ‘It’s OK. That’s what I’m here for. You’re going to be sore for a while, but it could’ve been an awful lot worse. Everything’s going to be fine now,’ she soothed.

      The rest of the shift was equally busy, and Marco thoroughly enjoyed the rush and the challenge. Moving to London for six months was the best thing he could’ve done. There were no memories here, no ghosts to haunt him. And maybe, just maybe, he could finally start to move on with his life after two years of being numbed by guilt.

      At the end of the shift, he saw Sydney outside the restroom. ‘Hi.’

      ‘Hi.’ She smiled at him. ‘So did you enjoy your first day?’

      ‘Yes. You were right—it’s a nice department.’ He smiled back. ‘And you’re definitely a better doctor than you are an abseiler.’ He’d liked the way she worked: confident, efficient, but most importantly putting the patients first and making them comfortable. Her people skills were top-notch. ‘I was wondering—are you busy?’

      She looked slightly wary. ‘Busy?’

      ‘If you’re not, I thought maybe we could do something tonight.’

      Her expression grew warier still. ‘What, a welcome to the team thing?’

      ‘No, just you and me.’ He paused. There was a question he really had to ask before this went any further. ‘Unless you have a significant other?’

      CHAPTER TWO

      SYDNEY’S head was telling her that this was a bad, bad idea. Going out with Marco—just the two of them. But she couldn’t get that kiss out of her head. The way he’d made her feel, those little sparkles of pleasure running through her as his mouth had moved over hers. Maybe it was the adrenalin rush from the abseil still scrambling her common sense, but it had been too long since she’d let herself have fun.

      He was only going to be at the London Victoria for six months. And he was asking her out on a date, not suggesting a long-term commitment. So on a need-to-know basis he didn’t actually have to know about her neurofibromatosis, did he?

      There was only one other reason she could think of why she ought to say no. ‘We work together. It’s usually not a good idea to date someone in your department,’ she hedged. ‘Things can get a bit—well, awkward.’

      ‘We’re both adults,’ he said softly, ‘and I think we can be professional enough to keep what happens outside work completely separate from what happens inside work.’ He paused, keeping eye contact. ‘So will you have dinner with me tonight?’

      Clearly the adrenalin from the abseil was still affecting her head, because Sydney found herself returning his smile. ‘Thank you. I’d like that.’

      ‘How about we go out now, straight from work?’ he suggested. ‘Then neither of us has to go home, dress up and drag ourselves out again.’

      She looked at him with raised eyebrows. ‘Marco, you’re already way more dressed up than anyone else in the department. I hate to think what your definition of “dressing up” might be.’

      He laughed. ‘Before they retired, my parents designed clothes. My older brother and sister run the business now, and they tend to use me as a clothes horse—which is fine by me, because it means I never have to drag myself round the clothes shops, and my wardrobe’s always stocked.’

      ‘What happens if they give you something you really hate wearing?’ she asked, sounding curious.

      ‘They only did that when I dated their favourite