More Than A Gift. Josie Metcalfe

of avoiding an answer.

      ‘Well, Nurse?’ he prompted, startling her into looking up into the wicked gleam in his eyes. He’d leaned himself against the column supporting the monitor displays while he’d chatted easily with Mrs Sweeny. Now he’d folded his arms across his chest as though he had the whole day to wait for her answer. ‘Do you agree with Mrs Sweeny?’

      The pair of them exchanged a telling glance, grey eyes meeting blue, each knowing that they had put her on the spot.

      Laurel felt the familiar anxiety start to swamp her, the feeling that she just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. And what was worse, she couldn’t drag her eyes away from him.

      If he could read her thoughts and feelings in her eyes, what would he think of her cowardly nature?

      He wouldn’t know about the years she’d spent as the butt of Robert Wainwright’s caustic wit. Then, defiance had only earned her the label of ‘disturbed child’ and another handful of tranquillisers.

      In the end, her only defence had been silence and stoicism while her resentment had grown, and in her undrugged moments her determination to find some way out of the destructive situation.

      Then, for the first time in her life, she felt a sudden surge of something new. She didn’t know what it was or what was causing it. Could it be something to do with the expression in a certain pair of liquid silver eyes?

      ‘I suppose he’s quite good-looking, Mrs Sweeny,’ she admitted grudgingly. She flicked her gaze over him from head to foot and back again, his elegant grey suit doing more to enhance his lean physique than disguise it, then made sure there was more than a hint of doubt in her intonation. ‘That’s if you like them long and skinny.’

      Mrs Sweeny burst out laughing.

      ‘That told you, didn’t it?’ She laughed gleefully up at Dmitri Rostropovich, her perpetually worried eyes brightening briefly with a flash of humour. ‘I’m so glad that we women are getting a chance to put a man in his place these days.’

      Laurel found herself holding her breath, waiting for his response. What on earth had possessed her to talk to him like that? Apart from the foolishness of drawing attention to herself, she knew better than to provoke a man into anger by answering back.

      Then he chuckled.

      ‘Oh, yes, Mrs Sweeny. I certainly like a woman who knows how to put a man in his place,’ he agreed. ‘The only trouble is, most men don’t know their place until a woman shows them.’

      There was something in his gaze that made Laurel feel warm inside, almost as if she were basking in the warmth of a summer’s day, and it was a feeling she wanted to explore. Perhaps…

      ‘Haven’t you finished that yet, Nurse?’ Melanie Richards’s voice snapped, dispelling the warmth with a blast of frigid disapproval. ‘I thought you were supposed to be fully qualified for this job, but you’re as slow as the greenest student.’

      ‘I’m sorry—’ Laurel began, automatically apologising even though she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong.

      ‘That would be my fault,’ Dmitri interrupted smoothly, straightening up from his relaxed slouch against the column supporting the monitoring equipment to his full six feet plus. Laurel couldn’t help noticing that there was no smile in evidence any more either. ‘My interruptions might have delayed her but they didn’t interfere with the standard of Laurel’s work.’

      ‘Oh, well, I…’ Melanie began backtracking, fast.

      ‘And she’s got very gentle hands, too,’ Mrs Sweeny butted in. ‘Not like some of the nurses. Sometimes you get the feeling that they’re trying to do too many jobs at once and doing none of them well.’

      ‘Yes, well, Staff Nurse Norris is back now, so you can take these papers to Administration,’ Melanie ordered repressively, before turning her attention on the handsome doctor with a renewed smile. ‘Have you got time for a cup of tea, or perhaps you’d prefer coffee?’

      ‘Actually, I know I’m not due on duty until tomorrow, but I think I’d prefer to take a trip around the department, if that’s all right with you.’

      ‘Of course it is. And I can answer any questions as we go round,’ Laurel heard her gush, and gritted her teeth as she shouldered her way through the door and paused to hear the security latch click firmly closed behind her. Did the woman have no idea about subtlety?

      ‘That would take up far too much of your valuable time,’ she heard him say firmly. ‘I would rather familiarise myself with the department in my own way, if you don’t mind. If I have any questions, I can ask you later, perhaps?’

      ‘Well, of course. If that’s the way you would prefer it.’

      Melanie’s annoyance at having her invitation turned down was so clear that Laurel couldn’t help laughing to herself as she set off on her time-wasting errand. It was good to know that their new doctor wasn’t going to be taken in by a woman with a pretty face. He definitely knew his own mind.

      Perhaps he would even be able to do something about making better use of her presence in the unit. Each of their little charges needed the equivalent of five and a half nurses and they were desperately short of fully qualified staff. Even though she lacked experience, it just didn’t make sense to send her off on errands that could just as easily have been done by a porter.

      The smile put on Laurel’s face by Dmitri’s rebuff of Melanie Richards’s cloying attention didn’t last for long. How could it when inside her head there was a maelstrom of thoughts whirling and colliding in chaotic confusion?

      And all because of Dr Dmitri Rostropovich.

      What was it about the man?

      She’d only met him this morning and already it looked as if he’d caused mayhem in the calm, ordered life she’d created for herself.

      For a start, he seemed to have completely scrambled her emotions. Not so very long ago she’d been in the middle of preparations for a wedding to a man who’d never even made her heart skip a beat in all the time she’d known him. Now she’d met a man who created wild Latin-American dance rhythms in her blood with nothing more than the sound of his voice or a wicked smile.

      One part of her—a very large part—was only too willing to explore these enticing new sensations. The other part was far more sane and rational, reminding her of the reasons why she was here in the hospital at all.

      If she’d stayed where she had been she’d be a married woman by now, browbeaten into obedience by Robert Wainwright purely because she’d realised it had been her only escape from a life lived permanently under his thumb.

      The sole reason why she’d been at the right place and time to meet Dmitri was because she was searching for her sister, and the only way she’d been able to do that was by changing her name and moving away from everything and everyone she knew.

      Still, the feminine side of her couldn’t resist the suggestion that Dmitri found her attractive. Well, he seemed to prefer her company to Melanie’s, at least.

      Who knew what might develop over the next days and weeks? For the first time in a very long time she was actually looking forward to finding out.

      ‘If I’d known then what I know now,’ she muttered through chattering teeth, her breath emerging in a ghostly cloud, visible even in the dark of the car.

      She had no idea how long she’d been here. At this time of the year any time between four o’clock and seven o’clock would be dark whichever end of the day they appeared.

      With a feeling of dread she realised that it must still be evening, and the only reason it seemed lighter was because the snow was beginning to accumulate around the car.

      She almost regretted her return to the stark reality of her present situation. It was far more pleasant reliving those first heady days after she’d met Dmitri.

      She