The Shy Nurse's Rebel Doc

From playing it safe...

To falling for her rebel boss!

In this Bondi Bay Heroes story, ER nurse Samantha Braithwaite has learnt never to put limits on herself. But working with Dr. Blake Cooper is her biggest challenge yet. He thinks she’s shy, but that makes her more determined to prove she can make the Specialist Disaster Response team. And as days spill into nights, the chemistry they’ve tried to hide is about to explode!

ALISON ROBERTS is a New Zealander, currently lucky enough to be living in the south of France. She is also lucky enough to write for the Mills & Boon Medical Romance line. A primary school teacher in a former life, she is now a qualified paramedic. She loves to travel and dance, drink champagne, and spend time with her daughter and her friends.

Also by Alison Roberts

Sleigh Ride with the Single Dad

The Doctor’s Wife for Keeps

Twin Surprise for the Italian Doc

Bondi Bay Heroes collection

The Shy Nurse’s Rebel Doc

Finding His Wife, Finding a Son by Marion Lennox

And look out for the next two books

Healed by Her Army Doc by Meredith Webber Rescued by Her Mr Right

Available September 2018

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Shy Nurse’s Rebel Doc

Alison Roberts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07523-7

THE SHY NURSE’S REBEL DOC

© 2018 Alison Roberts

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Linda and Meredith, with much love.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

IT BLINDSIDED HIM.

Blake Cooper had just swung himself off his motorbike in his allotted ED staff parking space at Sydney’s Bondi Bayside Hospital and flipped up his visor. He should have been easing off his helmet, now, and reaching for the worn leather satchel in the side pannier but he wasn’t moving at all. His fingers felt like they were stuck to the sides of his helmet and his eyes were just as stuck.

On that car...

A gleaming, vintage MG roadster.

Red.

Of course it was red. It was a giant Dinky toy, come to life.

His toy.

And, there he was. Five years old again. Finding that shoebox full of treasure at the bottom of the carton of kitchen junk his mother had bought for virtually nothing from the charity shop clearance sale. There’d been more than a dozen of the tiny pre-loved metal vehicles but his absolute favourite had been that little red MG roadster, even if it did have chipped paint and a missing wheel. He could almost feel the sharp edges of it in his hand right now, as his fingers curled into a fist—the way they had back then, as they clutched the toy hidden in his pocket, whenever something important was happening. Like when he had to change schools. Or when the big boys on the block were following him home...

Blake dismissed the memory of that fear with a soft snort. His upbringing had had its advantages because he wasn’t afraid of anything now.

And this real-life toy wasn’t anything like his miniature version. Someone must have spent a fortune restoring it. He’d bet it had a completely new motor now, and that soft, red leather upholstery certainly wasn’t original. A new staff member, perhaps? Or a visiting consultant who had the means to indulge a pricey hobby? The idea of spending huge amounts of money purely for pleasure was distasteful but he wasn’t going to allow that to tarnish a memory that had been a poignant reminder of something very special. It became so much more muted when you were an adult, that bolt of sheer happiness that life could deliver something so amazing. When you could find real treasure so unexpectedly.

He pulled his helmet off. He was tucking it under his arm when the soft, early morning air around him, still blurred with those long-ago memories, was shattered by a sound that lifted the hairs on the back of his neck.

A scream of pure terror.

‘Help...oh, God... Help...’

It was coming from the adjoining public car park. Blake’s helmet bounced, unseen, off the asphalt behind him. He vaulted over the dividing fence with only a touch of his hand to boost him. The heels of his cowboy-style boots beat a tattoo on the hard surface as he ran towards the terrible sound. His peripheral vision caught the movement of others coming in the same direction but he was there first. The young woman standing beside the opened back door of her car didn’t appear to be injured or unwell. She just looked petrified.

‘What is it? What’s happened?’

The question was redundant a split second later, because he could see into the back seat of the car now. Into the baby seat. He could see the blue lips of a baby who wasn’t breathing.

The safety harness was already undone and it was easy to lift the infant with his hands under its armpits, his fingers supporting the head. Sometimes, being moved suddenly could be enough to restart breathing but Blake could feel how unresponsive this baby was as he stepped back from the car. He dropped to his knees and cradled the baby in his arms, tilting the head back to ensure the airway was open as he covered the tiny nose and mouth with his lips as he delivered a rescue breath.

And then another. He could see the chest rising so he knew that the airway wasn’t obstructed but there was still no response. With two fingers positioned on the centre of the baby’s chest he began rapid compressions. A few seconds later, he paused to deliver another two breaths.

Other people had arrived now.

‘What happened?’

‘How long since he stopped breathing?’

The mother was sobbing. ‘I knew there was something wrong, that’s why I was bringing him here but I thought he’d...that he’d just fallen asleep... It was just before I turned into the car park...’

‘Should I go and get a resus trolley?’

It was a nurse he knew very well who was asking the question. Harriet Collins worked in the intensive care unit but she was also a founding member of the Specialist Disaster Response team that was a big part of Blake’s life as well.

Blake had filled the baby’s lungs with air again and lifted his head to answer Harriet as he started another set of compressions but then he paused for a second. He could feel the difference beneath his hands. The tension of muscles contracting as the baby took a breath on its own.

And then another.

Blake got to his feet with the baby still in his arms. ‘No trolley,’ he told Harriet. ‘The sooner we get inside the better.’

He was already taking off, heading towards the nearest entrance to the emergency department through the ambulance bay. He could have this baby in their well-equipped resuscitation area in less than a minute if he ran.

He heard the despairing wail of the baby’s mother behind him but Harriet was onto it. A swift glance back showed her putting an arm around the still terrified mother’s shoulders. ‘Come with us,’ he heard her say. ‘Dr Cooper knows what he’s doing, I promise. He’s the best...’

He also heard the mother’s response.

‘But he doesn’t even look like a doctor...’

* * *

‘So this is your first day here, dear?’

‘Yes, it is, Mrs Henderson.’

‘Oh, call me Dottie, dear. Everyone does, you know.’

‘Okay, Dottie.’

Samantha Braithwaite smiled at her elderly patient then shifted her gaze to run a practised eye over the drip rate of the IV fluids. She moved the little plastic wheel with her thumb a fraction. The saline drip was only up to keep a vein open—Dottie wasn’t hypotensive or dehydrated.

‘Is it your first job as a nurse?’

‘Oh, no...just my first day here at Bondi Bayside Hospital. I’m very excited.’

‘It’s a lovely hospital.’

‘It is. Maybe you’ll get a view of the beach from your room when you’re up on the ward. I had a tour a while ago with my friend, Harriet. She works in Intensive Care and she told me about the job coming up here. I couldn’t wait to apply for it.’

‘It must be a very exciting place to work, here in Emergency. But you’re going to see all manner of dreadful things.’ Faded blue eyes were full of concern. ‘Are you sure that’s right for you? I’m sure I couldn’t do it.’

Sam’s smile was reassuring now. ‘I’ve worked in Emergency for years now, Dottie. At other hospitals in Sydney. I love it. Yes, you can see some dreadful things but it’s exciting, too. We get to save lives quite often.’

‘And here I am holding up a bed with not an ounce of excitement to offer.’

‘You’re a treasure.’ Sam squeezed Dottie’s hand. ‘Are you comfortable? I can arrange some more pain relief for you.’

‘No...it’s fine as long as I don’t move. The pillows are helping.’ Dottie sighed. ‘I can’t believe I’ve been stupid enough to break my hip. You’d think I would have learned to watch my step after ninety-odd years of practice, wouldn’t you?’

‘These things happen. You’re not at all stupid. I’d say you’re as bright as a button.’

Sam knew she should be moving on to check patients in the adjoining cubicles that had been assigned to her but she knew they were all low acuity, like the homeless guy who was sleeping off last night’s alcohol and the teenager who was being monitored to make sure that his blood sugar levels were stable again. But they had buzzers they could use if they needed assistance urgently and there was something in Dottie’s tone that told her how anxious this particular patient was. That she needed more of Sam’s attention.

‘Is there anyone I can call that could come and keep you company? A family member or a friend?’

‘No...my friends are all in the home, now. I’ll see them when I get back.’

‘Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?’

‘A cup of tea would be lovely...and maybe a gingernut?’

‘I’m sorry, Dottie. You’re nil by mouth at the moment because we’re waiting to take you up to Theatre for your operation.’

Yes...that was a flash of real fear in her patient’s eyes. Sam squeezed her hand again and this time, she didn’t let go.

‘I’m quite sure that you’ll be fine,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s a straightforward procedure these days. You’ll be on your feet in no time.’ Her smile widened. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re dancing again, soon.’

‘Oh...we used to love dancing, me and my Bill.’

‘Your husband?’

Dottie nodded. ‘My third.’ She winked at Sam. ‘Third time lucky it was, for me. Are you married, dear?’

‘No... I’m only twenty-eight.’

‘I got married for the first time when I was eighteen.’

‘Oh...’ Sam widened her eyes. ‘Maybe I’m on the shelf, then.’

‘No...things are different these days. It’s sensible to wait for the right one. I lost my first husband in the war, so that wasn’t my fault but the second one was definitely a mistake. I should have kept looking a bit longer.’ There was a gleam in Dottie’s eyes that suggested she was well distracted from her fear. ‘You’re such a pretty girl, dear. I’m sure you’ve got lots of suitors.’

Sam laughed. ‘What a lovely, old-fashioned word. I’ve had a few boyfriends, if that’s what you mean. I’m too young to be thinking about getting married. There’s too many things I want to do first.’

‘Don’t wait too long, dear. You might let the right one slip past...’

‘I’ll keep that in mind. I’d better go now, but I’ll be back soon, okay?’

It really was time that Sam checked on her other patients although it was possible that that comment had struck a nerve. Why hadn’t she found anyone that turned out to be a contender for the position of the ‘right’ one? Dottie had been right. With the classic combination of blonde hair and blue eyes, Sam was never short of attracting attention but she’d discovered that being pretty wasn’t necessarily an advantage. The interest she attracted tended to be shallow and the end goal blatantly obvious.

‘Before you go, dear...do you think you could bring me a bedpan? I’ve been dying to have a wee for ages now.’

Sam turned back, the curtain still bunched in her hand. ‘Of course, Dottie.’ She pulled the curtain closed again. ‘There should be one under the bed. Yes, here it is. Let me help you...we need to be careful not to move the pillows supporting your leg.’

With the covered bedpan in her hand, Sam left Dottie’s cubicle to head towards the sluice room a few minutes later. She swerved to avoid a phlebotomist and her trolley, which put her in line with the doors to the ambulance bay that were sliding open.

‘Move,’ someone barked at her.

An alarmed glance showed an unusual scenario. She might have expected uniformed ambulance officers pushing a trolley at speed after a command like that but this was different.

Very different.

A tall man, wearing jeans and cowboy boots, with a tumble of dark wavy hair that reached his shoulders was coming in at almost a run. He had a baby in his arms. People behind him were running to keep up with his long strides. A distraught-looking woman. And... Harriet? She should be heading upstairs to start her shift in ICU, surely?

Not that she had any time to wonder what was going on. This was clearly a father on a mission to help his sick baby and Sam did, indeed, have to get out of his way. Her long, blonde ponytail swung wildly as she leapt aside—straight into the path of the phlebotomist’s trolley. Racks of glass test tubes rattled and toppled to crash to the floor. A box of vacuum tubes followed, to open and spill its contents over a surprisingly large area. Sam herself was knocked off balance. Not enough to fall onto broken glass, fortunately, but it was enough to send the bedpan in her hands flying. Contact with the floor also spilled its contents and all Sam could do for a moment was stare in absolute horror, a hand instinctively coming up to cover her gaping mouth.

The noise made heads turn from every direction, including the man who was now past Sam, on his way to one of the major resuscitation areas. She could feel his appalled glare so strongly she had to turn her head and, for a heartbeat, his gaze held hers.

Dark, dark eyes.

An incredulous gaze. As if he simply couldn’t believe that anyone in this department could be so incredibly incompetent. As if his faith in people here being able to help his baby had just been dealt a devastating blow.

And then he was gone.

And there were voices all around Sam.

‘Stand back. Stay away from the broken glass.’

‘Someone get a mop.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you...’ The young phlebotomist was looking close to tears.

‘It was my fault. I jumped back without looking. I’m so sorry.’

‘Just move,’ a senior nurse snapped, ‘so we can get this mess cleaned up.’

The young technician pulled her trolley clear and muttered something about needing more test tubes as she fled. A member of the domestic staff was already here with a bucket and mop. Sam snatched up the bedpan and kept going towards the sluice room. If nothing else, a quieter space would give her a moment to get over what felt like humiliation.

She couldn’t help a sideways glance as she passed the resuscitation area. The curtains weren’t completely closed. She could see Harriet in there, with her arm around a sobbing woman. She could see the baby on the bed and staff members busy. Someone had wrapped a tiny blood pressure cuff around an arm and was sliding an oxygen saturation probe onto a finger. Someone else was attaching ECG electrodes. Weirdly, the baby’s father—who looked like he’d just come from a gig with his rock band—was standing at the head of the bed, where the person responsible for the airway was supposed to stand. And someone was handing him a stethoscope.

What the heck?

She dropped the disposable bedpan into the rubbish and then turned on the taps over the huge sink to wash her hands. She took her time, using a lot of soap and then paper towels to prolong the process a little longer. Like that young technician, she was fighting an urge to cry.

Her first day on her new job, when all she’d hoped for was to perform well enough to make it obvious that she would be a valuable team member and all she’d done was to make people think she was totally incompetent. Clumsy at best. A liability at worst. She was an emergency department nurse, for heaven’s sake. She should be able to cope with an unfolding crisis in her sleep, not jump like a startled deer just because someone was rushing towards her and barking like a guard dog.

Sam took a deep breath and then lifted her chin.

She had patients assigned to her care and she was going to go back and do her job. And, on her way back, she would apologise to the charge nurse, Emily.

‘It was an accident.’ Emily actually smiled when Sam spoke to her. ‘Unfortunate timing but I saw what happened and I can’t blame you for getting a fright. It’s not like Blake to speak to people like that but he was under a fair bit of stress. He’d just resuscitated that baby out in the car park.’

‘Blake?’

‘Blake Cooper. He’s one of our top consultants.’

‘No way...’

What had been intended as no more than an astonished inward reaction must have escaped as a whisper but Emily didn’t seem offended. Her lips twitched.

‘I know...but he looks different when he’s in his scrubs and has that hair tied up. You’ll see...’

Sam didn’t want to see. She’d never forget that appalled glance he’d given her. It would have been bad enough if he’d been the baby’s father but at least she wouldn’t have to see him again. That she’d come to the notice of one of this department’s consultants in such a humiliating manner was too much to even try and process right now.

‘How’s the baby?’

‘Stable. Looks like he’s got a respiratory infection going on but they’re also querying an underlying heart condition. He’s on his way to PICU at the moment for monitoring and follow up. Oh...your patient, Mrs Henderson? They’re coming to take her to Theatre any minute. She was asking for you. Perhaps you could go up with her?’

‘Sure. But what about my other patients?’

‘The registrar’s discharged the ETOH overdose. And the diabetic lad is eating breakfast. We’ll discharge him as soon as his mum gets back with his clothes. Don’t worry...’ Emily smiled again. ‘I’ll have a whole new list for you as soon as you get back. I might give you some time in the plaster room. And the paediatric corner—just to let you get a feel for the place.’

Or to keep her out of harm’s way?

Sam managed to paste a smile onto her face. ‘That’ll be great. Thanks.’

* * *

What a start to the day.

It was nearly two hours later before Blake Cooper felt like things were back to normal. He had a crisp, clean scrub tunic over his jeans, his penlight torch clipped onto his top pocket along with his pens, and his pager and phone attached to a lower pocket. His hair was neatly combed and fastened into the looped ponytail that was appropriate to his work environment and his own stethoscope lay over his shoulders.

The lasting impression of the dramatic start to his day was an odd mix. There was an enormous relief that the baby was going to be fine. A cardiac abnormality had been ruled out and the respiratory arrest seemed to have been caused by difficulty breathing due to a bad case of bronchiolitis, which was now being treated by the specialist paediatric team. The stress levels had been remarkably high as he was carrying that baby into Emergency, knowing that he could have already stopped breathing again on the journey from the car park but it didn’t excuse the way he’d shouted at that nurse who’d been right in his path.

So there was an element of guilt to go with the relief. No wonder the poor girl jumped. He’d never seen her before, either, so maybe she was a relief nurse who wasn’t even experienced in being in an often chaotic environment like the ED. The sound of smashing glass had made him think that he might have been responsible for causing a nasty injury but when he’d looked, she was still on her feet and all he could see beneath a halo of very blonde hair and horrified eyes was a face half covered by a hand.

A hand with ridiculously polished nails. Polka dots?

Who the hell put polka dots on their nails? Nobody who was serious about working in a place like this, that was for sure.

Emily was near the triage desk, updating details on the huge board that kept track of the whereabouts and condition of all the patients in this busy emergency department.

‘Hey, Em...’ Blake paused for a moment. ‘Thanks so much for sending someone to rescue my helmet and bag from the car park. Much appreciated.’

‘No worries, Blake. You can pay me back by seeing how many of these patients can be discharged. Like this asthma attack in cubicle three. Her oxygen saturation levels have been normal for the last hour but she’s anxious. Used her alarm to call an ambulance even before she’d tried her inhaler.’

‘I’ll go and have a chat.’ Blake scanned the rest of the glass board, hoping to find something more challenging but the resuscitation and high acuity areas were currently vacant.