‘I don’t recall doing anything but …’ He paused. ‘This sounds so dumb … my head feels like it’s going to fall off.’
Rilla smiled again while every cell in her body grew instantly alarmed. ‘OK, right. Well, first things first. We’re going to get a collar on you and get a doctor to see you.’
Immediately.
She smiled at him again. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked as she gestured to Emily, the ward clerk at the triage desk.
‘Damien.’
‘Hi, Damien. I’m Rilla.’
Emily approached. ‘Ems, can you find a nurse and tell them I need a cervical collar, please?’
Rilla hoped she sounded calm and professional because somewhere deep in her gut she knew that Damien had probably fractured his neck and was a walking time bomb.
She turned back to her patient. ‘We’ll get you into a cubicle. You’re going to need some X-rays.’
Damien started to haul himself out of the chair. ‘Just tell me where.’
Rilla placed an urgent stilling hand on Damien’s arm as her pulse leapt. ‘Collar first.’ She smiled calmly.
A junior nurse appeared with a cervical collar and Rilla utilised her to keep Damien’s neck motionless while she applied it. She held her breath until it was firmly in place.
‘Hell. That’s really uncomfortable.’
Rilla smiled. ‘Good, it’s on properly, then.’ She placed an arm underneath his elbow, indicating for him to come with her.
‘There’s something wrong with my neck, isn’t there?’ Damien asked, resisting her pull.
Rilla looked down into his anxious gaze. She doubted he was even twenty. But his eyes looked intelligent and she knew he didn’t want to be placated. ‘Yes. I think so.’
She saw the panic take hold then and placed her hand over his. ‘Let’s get the tests done and get you seen by the right people first. We have the very best,’ she assured him, smiling with an air of absolute confidence. ‘OK?’
She saw some of the dread recede. One thing Rilla knew for sure, here at the Brisbane General, Damien’s injury couldn’t be in better hands.
Rilla was helping Damien onto a bed when Luca entered the cubicle.
‘What have we got?’ he asked.
Rilla took a deep breath at the sudden jolt through her solar plexus. She hadn’t been prepared for him. Which was stupid. She’d known that consulting with Luca was bound to happen sooner or later. May as well get it out of the way early.
She listed Damien’s symptoms and her treatment to date, proud of her professional detachment. Luca nodded at each salient point but didn’t look at her and she was pleased to be spared the intensity of his black-velvet gaze.
‘What have you been doing to yourself?’ Luca asked. His tone was deliberately light, hiding the alarm at what he felt was almost certainly a potentially catastrophic injury. He glanced at Rilla, seeing her teeth sink betrayingly into her bottom lip, the way they always had when she was deeply concerned. She knew it too.
‘Just woke up with a bit of a sore neck this morning and it’s been getting worse all day.’ Damien shrugged. Or as much as he could with a collar that was applied so tightly it restricted shoulder movement as well.
‘What about last night?’ Luca probed. ‘Yesterday?’
‘Just some footy with my mates at a back-yard barbie last night. It was a bit of a late one. Didn’t get home till after four.’
‘Footy? Did you fall? Get tackled?’ Luca cut straight to the salient point.
Damien frowned. ‘Of course I did. No more than usual, though. You don’t feel anything after a few beers.’
Rilla felt sick. Had Damien been walking around with a fractured neck since last night? She glanced at Luca and could tell by the way his jaw clenched and unclenched that he was also very worried.
‘So you have pain in your neck?’ Luca asked.
‘Oh yeah.’
‘Any numbness, or tingling in your arms or legs?’ Luca persisted.
‘Nope,’ Damien replied.
‘Any difficulties swallowing, coughing or breathing?’
‘None,’ Damien said.
‘OK. Right.’ Luca nodded, relieved to see that there were no gross cord compression symptoms. ‘I’m sending you for an MRI.’ He took his stethoscope from around his neck. ‘Rilla, can you page the neurology team?’
Luca knew the moment she’d left and he felt the tension across his shoulders ease. He’d been acutely aware of her presence—even her lingering perfume interfered with his concentration.
‘Right, let’s get a full neuro assessment.’
‘Now you’re scaring me, Doc.’
Luca pulled up a stool, fairly certain that Damien’s life was about to change significantly. ‘I think you may have damaged your neck. I’m not sure of the severity yet. It may be nothing.’
Rilla watched Luca talking to their patient from the central work station through the partially open curtain as she waited for the neuro team to get back to her. She couldn’t hear what he was saying but she could hear the low rumble of his voice and noticed how he had placed a hand on Damien’s shoulder.
She watched as the frown between Damien’s eyes smoothed out and he actually smiled for the first time since walking through the doors. Luca’s bedside manner had always been second to none. She’d seen his quiet confidence, innate Latin charm and easy smile calm everyone from the most fractious child to the most frightened heart-attack patient. It had been one of the things that had attracted her most.
He’d always been a pleasure to watch in action and not even their complicated history could erase the fact. The phone rang and she answered it, relaying the details of Damien’s case to the neuro registrar.
Rilla re-entered the cubicle, efficiently flicking the curtain shut. ‘They’ll be here shortly,’ she said briskly.
‘Excellent,’ Luca said. He patted Damien’s shoulder. ‘Rilla will get your details and I’ll be back when the neurologist arrives.’
He turned to leave. ‘Well caught,’ he said in a low voice as he passed her on his way out.
Rilla turned back to Damien, smiling to herself. She couldn’t help it. Even after seven years, his praise still made her glow.
Just before her evening meal break Rilla was relieving an exhausted mother of her wheezy eighteen-month-old daughter so she could administer a ventolin nebuliser. The restless infant smelled like soap and sunshine and Rilla’s heart contracted as the little girl snuffled tiredly into her neck, the toddler’s hair brushing against her face.
She hugged the little one close. An overwhelming urge to have a baby of her own washed over her and she absently kissed the toddler’s head. How many babies would she and Luca have had by now?
As if by some extrasensory connection, Luca chose that moment to enter the cubicle and their gazes locked over the child’s head. Was he thinking the same thing? He looked tall and lean and sexy as hell, and her pulse leapt.
‘I thought you left at five.’ She blurted the first thing that came into her head in an effort to banish oestrogen-enriched fantasies.
Luca’s breath caught in his throat