The Midwife's One-Night Fling. Carol Marinelli

nights you’ll come to love it.’

      It was then that she noticed his eyes—or rather, it was then that she properly noticed them.

      In his good-looking face there were several stand-outs. If she’d been describing him to Alison, his sculpted cheekbones and attractive full mouth were two features she might easily have named, and that his hazel eyes were just so much more than hazel. They were the colour of burnt amber, with a smatter of golden flecks, and they made Freya feel as if she were gazing upon an open fire.

      Or was that more from the way he absolutely held her gaze as she replayed his words in her mind?

       ‘Ah, but after a few late nights you’ll come to love it.’

      Those words had sounded like an invitation.

      As Freya held their eye contact steady, she wasn’t quite sure how, but he made her his sole focus.

      And he was hers.

      Gone was the canteen, and gone too was the noise.

      But then he spoke, and Freya found herself blinking at the intrusion of words.

      ‘So, where will you be working?

      ‘Maternity. I’m a midwife. The name’s Freya,’ she added, and she was not just being polite. His stethoscope was hanging over his lanyard and she wanted to know his name and just who this delectable stranger was.

      She would have to wait to find out, though. His pager was trilling. As he looked at it he scooped the last of his cereal into his mouth and then gulped down the remaining tea as he stood.

      ‘I expect you to be fully versed in the operating of a fire extinguisher the next time we meet.’

      ‘I’ll do my best,’ Freya said, but he had already gone, his large frame moving swiftly through the tables as people made way to let him past.

      She watched.

      And not idly.

      The overhead chimes started then, and Freya heard that the Cardiac Arrest Team was needed in Casualty.

      Through the glass windows of the canteen Freya watched as he ran down the corridor, and then she turned her head and surveyed his empty cereal bowl and the two empty cups of tea.

      Freya didn’t know his name, just that he was gorgeous. Effortlessly so. And way more gorgeous than she could handle.

      She hadn’t been born yesterday. In fact, Freya’s thirtieth birthday was fast approaching. And there was something about him that told her he had learnt to flirt from the cradle. There had certainly been a tease and a flirt in his eyes when they spoke—especially with that little quip about late nights.

      Well, there would be no late nights spent with him! She was far too guarded and sensible for that.

      With her lunch break over, Freya headed back to the lecture theatre for the afternoon session of her orientation day. Sure enough it was the fire lecture. She watched the film and tried not to smile when they were given a demonstration on how to use the various fire extinguishers.

      And even as she watched and listened Freya wanted to know more about the time her lunch companion’s patient had tried to set fire to the ward.

      And she wanted to know his name.

      Fully versed in the fire policy at the Primary, as well as in the various codes used for emergencies of different natures, and how to report safety hazards, Freya found that it was time for coffee—and, she guessed, another fifteen minutes of standing alone.

      ‘There’s a lot to take in, isn’t there?’ said Rita, the woman who had earlier been sitting next to her.

      ‘There is,’ Freya agreed. ‘Where will you be working?’

      ‘I used to be a domestic on Maternity. I’m hoping they’ll send me back there, but I haven’t been told where I’m going yet. You?’

      ‘I’m a midwife, so I’m certainly hoping that they’ll be sending me there!’ Freya joked.

      ‘Pardon?’

      ‘Maternity,’ Freya said instead.

      ‘Well, I hope to see you there.’

      They headed back for their final lectures about the pay office and superannuation. Rita took furtive notes and Freya did her level best not to tune out completely.

      Finally orientation day was concluded, and the fifty or so new Primary Hospital workers all headed for home.

      Freya followed the red line, and sure enough was soon approaching Casualty.

      And there he was.

      The man who had understood her when she spoke.

      He must be hungry again, Freya thought, watching him feed coins into a vending machine.

      Gosh, he really was good-looking—and just so tall and broad. Even side-on there was a presence to him. She wondered if she could come up with a witty line about fire extinguishers in the few seconds she’d have before their paths crossed again.

      Except she didn’t come up with any witty lines, and neither was one needed—because he collected a bottle of water and a bar of chocolate and headed back into Casualty without noticing her at all.

      Freya headed towards the Underground, as did seemingly fifty million other people, and stood squashed between them for the four stops to her flat. And surely those same fifty million people were getting off at the same stop, for they all seemed to be herding towards the escalator with her.

      She thought of her little purple car at home. The one that would never have survived the motorway—which was the reason her father had driven her here. And she thought of the short drive from the hospital to her home and the gorgeous view that awaited her there.

      ‘Cheer up love!’ called out a man working at a flower stall. ‘It might never happen.’

      Freya jolted as she realised he was calling out to her.

      She walked into her dingy flat and let out a sigh.

      The place looked no better for her efforts over the past four days. She had washed down the walls, but really they needed several coats of paint. The curtains she had washed had shrunk, Freya had realised when she’d put them back, and now they didn’t properly close, falling a foot short of the floor. And there was an awful picture of a horse and cart that had to come down!

      Tomorrow, Freya decided. When she would also get a rug to cover the mustard-coloured carpet, she thought as she headed into the kitchen.

      It was even worse than her kitchen at Cromayr Bay.

      But it wasn’t just the flat that was upsetting her. Apart from that gorgeous guy at lunchtime she had barely spoken to a soul since she’d arrived here.

      It would be better soon, Freya told herself. Once she got to the maternity unit she would start to make friends.

      Wouldn’t she?

      She was starting to think the flower seller had picked up on her mood correctly. ‘It’ had indeed happened.

      Moving here, Freya was sure, had been a mistake.

       CHAPTER TWO

      ‘FIONA, CAN YOU go to Labour and Delivery? I mean Freya.’

      Freya nodded. She was getting rather used to being called the wrong name by Stella, the associate unit manager.

      ‘Sure.’

      ‘And can you buddy with Kelly?’

      Freya had been working there for a fortnight now, and today she was to go to the labour and delivery unit. ‘Buddying’ meant that she and Kelly would check each other’s CTG readings