“Damien MacAvoy,” said the nurse’s voice on the tape. “Twenty five years old, came in on the twelfth. MVA. Under Dr Reed. Bruising and some cuts which have been dressed. He’s doing well, everything NAD. For review tonight and possible discharge in the morning.”
There was no freaking way it could be the same man! No way. No male prostitute would use his real name. Surely not. It had to be a coincidence, there was nothing more for it. A huge coincidence.
Her palms were almost sweaty, and then she realized something. If it was the same Damien, he had not a clue who she was or what she looked like, or even her real name. She was safe.
She was even safer when she found out she wasn’t being allocated to be his nurse, and with a sigh of relief she pocketed her handover sheet and pen and left the handover room.
There was no way she couldn’t see him during the afternoon, though. Beth, the nurse allocated to him, was caught up with another patient, so when Damien’s call bell rang Cherry answered it.
Damien was cute, no doubt about it. And young, so very bloody young in comparison to her. Ten years younger, in fact. Inwardly, Cherry cringed. Thank goodness she hadn’t met him that night, she’d have felt like a cradle snatcher.
He obviously knew he was good looking and he was a natural charmer. Cherry didn’t fall for any of it, remaining friendly but professional, keeping her distance and more than happy to let Beth have him all to herself.
Around the time Dr Reed was due to appear and do a review on Damien, Cherry made sure she was in the dining room having her dinner. Call her a coward, she didn’t care. In her opinion it was a very wise move. There was no sense in running a risk if there was a way out of it.
Coming back onto the ward, Beth took her chance to go to dinner, leaving the ward under the eyes of Cherry and another nurse.
And that was when Dr Rick Reed walked up to the nurses’ station and asked who was looking after Damien MacAvoy.
Cherry nearly fell down on the spot, and only her sense of self-preservation enable her to croak, “His nurse is at tea.”
“Fine. I’m running late. Come with me.” He glanced up at her, looked back down at the file, and then with a frown looked back up at her. “Do I know you?”
Why no, Dr, we’ve only had sex, that’s all. “Uh – no. No.” Hastily she picked up several files and turned away to the cupboard to place them on the shelf, all the while her heart pounding in her chest and feeling almost faint. He couldn’t recognize her, he couldn’t!
“Okay.” He sounded a little puzzled but walked around the desk with the file in hand. “How is Damien?”
“Fine.” She trotted behind him, almost swearing when he courteously slowed down, which meant he could look sideways at her if he wanted. Thank God for the bright hall lights, no shadows. “He’s only had paracetamol this shift for some aches, his observations are stable, and he’s doing fine.”
“Good.” He stopped in front of the room and gestured. “After you.”
He just had to be a bloody gentleman, too. Cherry entered ahead of him, wondering if he was seeing the roll of her ample bottom beneath her shirt. Telling herself not to think about it, she plucked the treatment file from the holder on the wall and handed it to him, moving back a little so that she was just out of sight.
“Evening, Damien,” he said to the younger man reclining in the bed. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Hot date?” Damien chuckled and laid the magazine aside.
“I wish. Work.”
“Work was what put me here.” Damien winked.
Cherry wanted desperately to be anywhere but in that room.
“So I understand.” Rick looked over the observation chart and checked the medication chart before handing it back to Cherry. “You’re good to go in the morning, Damien. You were very lucky to escape serious injury. Keep taking the pain medication as needed, and see me at the clinic in a week, okay? Any problems, see me sooner.”
“No worries.” The magazine slipped off the bed when he shifted, and he tried to reach down for it, wincing as he did so.
Cursing all men under her breath, Cherry quickly rounded the bed and knelt down. “I’ll get it.” She saw that it was partway under the bed and reached for it.
Damien was moving around, and his covers flicked out and caught on her hairgrip, pulling it askew.
Without thought she straightened, placed the magazine on the bedside table, reached up and released the hairgrip. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, and she was in the act of gathering it up in one hand when she felt someone looking at her. Glancing up, she saw Rick watching her with an odd expression on his face. A slight frown, a hint of recognition as he scanned her features with a bright, green gaze.