But she didn’t look away. Her chin came up and the spark in her eyes was one of defiance.
So I get emotionally involved with my patients, the spark said. Deal with that, too. I happen to think it makes me a better doctor.
‘See you later, Alex.’
‘Yeah … I’m sure you will.’
The high heels of Layla’s shoes beat a sharp tattoo as she exited the recovery room and, despite himself, Alex knew he was watching her leave with the same kind of expression that every male in the cafeteria had had the day before.
You had to hand it to her. Layla Woods had very decided opinions and more courage than you could shake a stick at to defend them. And that feistiness, wrapped up in such an attractive package, was the kind of challenge any red-blooded man would get drawn to.
Look at him. He knew the deadly consequences of rising to that challenge and he was still finding it difficult not to get sucked in all over again.
Alex looked down at his small patient. He had done the best he could for her with the surgery to correct the spinal malformation and he was confident that it had been a success. This little girl would soon be able to sit up and walk and catch up with the developmental milestones she had missed. Her parents were going to be thrilled and he would take a great deal of pleasure in following up on her progress.
He cared about her. A lot. But he wasn’t going to start cuddling and kissing his patients. He’d learned long ago how dangerous emotional entanglements could be. Probably even before his mother had died.
Alex hadn’t needed the gut-wrenching confirmation of that lesson represented by the disastrous notion that Layla might have been different enough to deserve his trust. And he wasn’t going to lay himself open to the kind of heartache that came with losing a small patient that you’d got too attached to. He knew how to keep just the right amount of distance to make sure he stayed at the top of his game.
He just had to apply the same wisdom to his professional relationship with Layla, never mind how many times he found himself close to her. Or how many personal things he happened to notice.
Personal things like the kind of shoes she wore or shampoo she used were superficial and easily ignored. The personal detail he discovered about Layla a few days later nearly did his head in.
Plan B seemed to be going slightly astray.
The idea had been to show Alex that the past was well and truly behind them. That they could enjoy a professional relationship and put any lingering attraction behind them as well. Tuck it away, along with the malpractice suit and the way both their lives had been derailed.
But it seemed to be taking on a life of its own now.
Alex didn’t like it that she was invading his space. Layla could feel the ‘Oh, God, not again’ vibe whenever she just happened to be in the same place at the same time. Like the cafeteria or Recovery or the intensive care unit or one of the wards. She was getting so good at this she didn’t need to check his electronic calendar to guess where he might be next. Often her instinct put her in the right place. Or maybe fate was helping because her path seemed to be crossing with that of Alex far more often as she fulfilled her own professional duties.
Well, Alex had only himself to blame. The effect of her subtle campaign was magnified considerably by how successful Alex had been in trying to avoid her in the run-up to that meeting he’d stupidly decided to miss. This could have all blown over by now. She would have given Alex his moment in the limelight, taken the opportunity to say thank you in a heartfelt manner and they could have agreed that this was a fresh start for both of them.
Bygones could have been bygones.
But no … Alex had taken a stand and presented a challenge and she knew perfectly well that he would have been expecting her to front up and tear a strip or two off him because everybody knew that she didn’t hang back from necessary confrontation. The perfect opportunity had presented itself the very next day, in fact, in the staff cafeteria, with the bonus of a built-in audience.
What a stroke of brilliance it had been, doing the complete opposite of what they had all been expecting. Her ultra-friendly smile and the way she had simply ignored the whole issue had thrown Alex off guard completely. He was still suspicious of her motives and she couldn’t blame him for not liking what was happening. She was in control here.
The problem was that she was enjoying herself. A bit too much perhaps. She was quite confident of how aware of her Alex was. She could sense the way he watched her, like that time in Recovery. She could feel the intensity of that gaze like a touch on her skin.
No. The real problem was the flip side of that particular coin.
She was equally aware of him.
Just how unhelpful this awareness was became strikingly obvious a few days later after Layla had been called to the emergency department to consult on a ‘blue baby’ case that had been rushed in by ambulance. The mother had had almost no prenatal care so the baby’s cardiac abnormalities had not been picked up prior to birth and, to complicate matters, the young mother had gone into labour and had given birth at home. With the baby safely intubated and stabilised and now under the care of the neonatal surgeons, Layla was free to leave the department to carry on with the rest of her duties when she spotted Alex.
He was standing just outside one of the resuscitation rooms where the more serious cases were assessed and stabilised. Right next door to the one she had been in. That small thrill of excitement and the way her heart rate picked up was due purely to the stroke of luck crossing his path in such an unexpected place. Neither of them had much to do with the emergency department so what were the odds of them both being here at the same time? That this would annoy Alex no end might be a kind of a bonus.
Except that he didn’t even seem to be aware of her standing so close by. His attention was focussed on the woman he was with. White-faced and sobbing, she looked barely more than a teenager. She had long, dark, wildly curly hair and she was talking fast and loudly. In Spanish.
Alex was looking stunned. As though he had no idea how to handle the situation.
Layla had never seen him look like this.
She’d seen him in charge of emergency situations in Theatre. Running a resuscitation scenario in the intensive care unit. Dealing with distraught parents. But never once had she seen him look as if he wasn’t in complete control.
Looking … vulnerable?
Well … she had once. When things had gone so disastrously wrong at the end of Jamie Kirkpatrick’s surgery. She’d had to stand back and watch helplessly then. She didn’t have to now.
Layla moved swiftly towards them. ‘Can I help you?’ she said to the young woman. ‘Te puedo ayudar? Digame lo que pasa …’
Her Spanish was fluent. The woman grabbed her arm in relief and sobbed out her story. Alex looked, if anything, even more stunned when Layla turned back to him.
‘Ramona says you’re treating her baby. Felix?’
His nod was terse. ‘He’s got a skull fracture. I was hoping to get to the bottom of the story but the language barrier’s suddenly got a lot worse.’
Layla asked Ramona a question and then translated the response. ‘His brother hit him with a toy brick.’
She could see the total disbelief in Alex’s face. ‘I’m talking about a fracture here. A broken skull. An unconscious child.’ His voice was so tense it cracked.
Layla’s brain sent out the kind of alert signal that any Chief of Paediatrics would be wise to pay attention to. It had been known to happen, hadn’t it? She’d read of more than one case where parents had had children taken away from them by social services and had been prosecuted for child abuse.