The Legendary Playboy Surgeon (5 page)

‘I’m thinking more about visitors.’

Bella was stirring sugar into her coffee. ‘I’m not following.’

‘Dates,’ Kate said succinctly. ‘Men. In particular, men that might want to stay overnight.’

Bella grinned. ‘I try and stick to one at a time but, hey, you go for it, Auntie Kate. More power to you.’

Kate’s cup clanked loudly on the saucer as she put it down. ‘I’m not talking about me, Bella. I’m talking about you. And Connor. I don’t want to wake up and find him in my kitchen. If you want to stay the night with him, do it at his place, OK?’

Pushing herself to her feet, Kate tipped half a cup of tea down the sink and abandoned her half eaten bagel on the bench. Bella was staring at her, open-mouthed.

‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘No.’ Kate plucked her jacket from where she’d hung it over the back of her chair and started to put it on.

Bella was shaking her head. ‘You
must
be kidding.’

‘Why’s that?’ Kate hated how snappy she sounded but it was a warning all on its own. This was dangerous territory. She had to take control.

Bella had a curious expression on her face. A half-smile that suggested a wisdom beyond both her years and her personality.

‘Because it’s not
me
Connor’s interested in,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s
you
.’

The wave of longing was unexpected. Debilitating, almost. Kate was having trouble getting her arm through the sleeve of her jacket. The knot filled her belly. Tight and painful and...pointless.

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ If her previous comment had been a snap, this would verge on being a snarl, but Bella only snorted softly. The sound was one of amusement.

‘I wasn’t the only one who noticed the chemistry between you two when you were dancing the other night. It’s as plain as this mountain of a zit I’ve got erupting on my chin.’ Bella fingered the spot. ‘Good grief...I’m not a teenager any more. It’s not fair.’

‘Stop thinking like a teenager, then,’ was all Kate could manage to say. ‘And seeing things that aren’t—and never will be—there. And have some fruit for breakfast,’ she threw over her shoulder as she headed for the briefcase waiting for her by the door. ‘I’ll see you later. I’m going to work.’

* * *

The labs were humming.

All the usual work was in full swing, with samples of all kinds being tested, reports dictated and results being dispatched. Lewis Blackman was using the time before he started the day’s scheduled autopsies to rove the area and make sure that his department was running like clockwork.

Every microscope in the large room was in use, both by technicians on duty and the members of the tutorial group of junior doctors that Kate was instructing. She was following up her lecture by testing how much her students had taken in. Her boxes of teaching slides were spread over counters and eager young medics were trying to outdo each other by identifying what they could see.

‘What have you got there, Neil?’

‘I think it’s an osteoid osteoma.’

‘Which is?’

‘A common, benign, bone-producing neoplasm. Predominantly found in males aged between ten and twenty years.’

‘Common sites?’

‘Fifty per cent are found in the femur or tibia.’

‘What’s the differential diagnosis?’

‘An aggressive osteoblastoma, which is also benign. Or an osteosarcoma.’

‘Why is it important to differentiate them?’

‘An osteosarcoma is one of the most aggressive and highly lethal tumours and commonly throws metastases to the lungs and liver.’

‘How can you be sure this isn’t an osteosarcoma?’

‘Because I can see the lesional tissue. The nidus. It’s well demarcated from the surrounding bone.’ The student moved to let Kate lean over the microscope.

She nodded and then looked up. ‘Anyone got a slide that shows an osteosarcoma?’

‘I have, I think.’ It was a registrar called Marie who spoke. ‘It looks like lace.’

Kate checked the second slide. ‘Right. I want everyone to look at both these examples and then we’ll have a quick recap on differential diagnoses and clinical behaviour for both types of tumours.’

‘Kate?’ A technician edged into the group. ‘Janet’s on the theatre run but due to get a piece of kidney from Theatre One. There’s an urgent case in Theatre Three. Bone biopsy being done on a thirteen-year-old girl. The surgery hasn’t started yet but do you want me to go and wait to collect the specimen?’

‘Please. And bring it to me.’ Kate eyed her group of students again. ‘This is timely. You can see a real-time investigation on a bone biopsy. If it’s happening during surgery, the results are critical. It might mean the difference between losing or saving a limb.’

The group was milling between the two microscopes and debating clinical information when an alarm sounded a few minutes later.

‘Oh, no...’ It didn’t take much to trigger a fire alarm in a hospital and the disruption could be disastrous. Kate flicked a glance around her busy department. Could she afford to ignore it?

Someone rushed into the laboratory area. ‘There’s smoke coming from the kitchens,’ he shouted. ‘Everybody out.’

‘Oh, my God...’ Marie was looking terrified. ‘We’ll be caught in the basement. How do we get out?’

‘Follow me.’ Neil reached for her hand, his arm knocking the tray of slides on the bench beside her. It tipped, sending some of the precious samples Kate had collected over many years into a puddle of broken glass.

There were so many people moving now. Lewis was trying to marshal everybody to leave in an orderly fashion but some were desperately trying to finish or pause the tests they were running and others were moving equipment or samples to protect them in case the overhead sprinklers came on. Many of her students were stuffing notes into satchels and trying to find their other personal items. Lewis was looking in her direction. He looked pale, Kate noticed, and he was rubbing the top of his left arm as if it hurt.

‘Leave everything,’ Kate ordered. She could smell the smoke herself now. ‘There’s no time.’ She waited by the door to make sure everyone got out of the department, including Lewis.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked her boss as he joined the people filing through the door.

‘I’m fine. Let’s get going. It’s probably only some burnt toast or something but we can’t take the risk.’

They were all hurrying now. Kate heard a crash and the tinkle of more broken glass as something else was knocked over. More of her collection of slides? She could also hear the faint wail of sirens coming from a distance.

With her heart sinking, Kate followed her colleagues to the evacuation point. Her day had just officially turned to custard.

* * *

Connor was taking his time, scrubbing in with meticulous attention to detail.

His hands were already red from the pressure of the soap-impregnated bristles and now he was concentrating on the points between his fingers. He could hear the familiar sounds of the operating theatre being set up—trolleys being wheeled into position, the clink of metal instruments being laid out.

Those sterile instruments would include a bone saw that Connor desperately hoped he wouldn’t have to use to remove the lower part of Estelle’s leg but the MRI scan had been inconclusive. He’d been hoping to see a well-defined margin to the tumour that would indicate that it had been slow-growing enough for the bone to respond to its presence. If it had been there he could have been virtually certain that they were dealing with a benign growth and he could have gone into this surgery with justifiable optimism.

Instead, he had a gnawing anxiety that was uncharacteristic.

‘Hey, Connor.’ A nurse had his sterile towel ready for when he’d rinsed the soap from his hands and forearms. ‘I saw you the other night. You make a great pirate.’

Connor merely grunted, angling his hands under the stream of warm water. He didn’t want to talk about the other night. He was having enough trouble trying to stop thinking about it as it was.

Part of it, anyway.

The way Kate had looked at him. He’d been shocked, that’s what it was. One minute she was in his arms and he’d been encased in an extraordinary sensation of...of...

Connor sighed, reaching for the towel. No. He still couldn’t define what that feeling had been. It had held a warmth that had been pure comfort but also a thrill that had been a precursor of ecstasy. Above all, there’d been a feeling of something being completely...right. As if the last piece of the world’s most complicated jigsaw puzzle had been slotted into place. He couldn’t summon up the sensation again so it had become even more elusive. Unattainable.

And ultimately desirable.

Not that there was any point in even thinking about it. It might have been there but when Kate had pulled away and given him that look of horror, it had been doused as effectively as if someone had dumped a bucket of icy water on his head.

Had she felt it, too?

But why would you run away from it?

Connor simply didn’t understand. Just like he couldn’t understand the random bad luck that a thirteen-year-old girl who lived to surf and dance might have to lose a part of her body that made it possible to live her dreams. The knot in his gut tightened a notch or two.

He could only hope for the best. And do
his
best for Estelle. The technician from the path lab was already standing by, looking nervous in the corner of the theatre. Well, she’d have to wait for a while to collect the specimen. If Connor had been meticulous about scrubbing in, it was nothing compared to how he was about to tackle this potentially life-
altering surgery.

He’d be sending a message that the most senior pathologist available needed to examine the specimen, too. He would remove as much of the tumour as he could but the pathologist would have to X-ray and then thinly section the specimen to identify the lesional tissue. It would be Connor’s turn to stand by then, in case the pathologist needed a bigger sample. If there was any chance of a diagnosis that this was a benign osteoid osteoma, Connor was more than prepared to wait as long as it took. It was a damn shame they were still dithering about finding the funding to have a permanent pathology area up and running right here in the theatre suite so that samples could be processed faster.

Mind you, if they did, they would have a pathologist in the department for every case like this and he might find himself working a lot more closely with Kate.

Would he want to see her almost every day?

No.

Yes.

Maybe.

Some time later, Connor decided he would be prepared to deal with having Kate close by for the convenience factor. Waiting for the result took far too long. Apparently there’d been a fire alarm in the basement area of St Pat’s because some idiotic kitchen hand had left a stack of tea towels on top of a glowing element on a stove. Even after taking his time to remove the specimen, it had been a forty-five-minute wait to get the result phoned through.

And it didn’t take nearly long enough because when that result came through, it was the worst possible outcome. Estelle had an aggressive osteosarcoma and it extended beyond the margins of the bone already removed.

With a heart much heavier than the bone saw he requested from his scrub nurse, Connor moved on to the next phase of what was now a heartbreaking operation.

* * *

Kate surveyed the chaos that was still reigning in her laboratory.

Not only was there equipment out of place, they were still cleaning up broken glass and someone was mopping up blood. Coming back for her possessions, Marie had slipped on something wet and had fallen, cutting her hand quite badly on a shattered test tube.

Technicians were coming up to her constantly asking what to do about tests that had been interrupted and whether new samples would have to be obtained. The X-ray equipment had been malfunctioning when an urgent biopsy sample had come down from Theatre and it took a while to discover that a fuse had been tripped during the alarm with power being cut off to various points. Kate had sectioned the sample herself and dismissed the students in favour of doing the diagnosis with her own registrar, Mark, because it was no longer a good time to include the young doctors in the process. There was simply too much other troubleshooting that needed to be done.

It was at that point that Kate noticed Lewis again. The head of department should have been in the same kind of firefighting mode she was in herself, restoring calm to the chaos in here, but he was standing to one side of the large area, looking preoccupied. And...grey. He wasn’t rubbing his arm any more. Instead, he had a hand pressed to the centre of his chest.

Kate was by his side in seconds. ‘You’ve got chest pain, haven’t you?’

Lewis nodded.

‘Radiation?’

‘Left arm. And jaw.’ It sounded as if it was hard for Lewis to say anything. As if he was in excruciating pain. He was sweating, too. He had all the classic symptoms of someone who was suffering a heart attack.

‘Run,’ she ordered a young technician. ‘Find the nearest wheelchair or trolley. I’ve got to get Dr Blackman up to the emergency department. Try Medical Records.’

Wheelchairs were often abandoned outside the medical-record department after someone had delivered a heavy load of notes. If she could transport Lewis herself, Kate knew it would be a lot faster than waiting for an orderly. And time mattered if Lewis was having a heart attack. With every passing minute more of his heart muscle could be being destroyed.

Her registrar was clearing an area near one of the microscopes she had been using with her students, clearly preparing to finish the bone-biopsy examination. Mark was fairly new to the department and the specialty but he was competent enough. Nonetheless, Kate should sign the diagnosis off herself but...

But Lewis could be dying here. He was her boss. Her mentor. A dear friend.

And the technician had just rushed back into the lab with a wheelchair.

‘I’ll be back as soon as possible,’ Kate told Mark. ‘Carry on. If there’s any doubt at all about the diagnosis, wait for me.’

* * *

It didn’t take very long to deliver Lewis to the emergency department.