One Night With Dr Nikolaides: One Night with Dr Nikolaides. Tina Beckett
He didn’t care how bolshie she was. He was going to look after her, and the easiest place to do that was in his trauma unit.
“I haven’t done trauma for over a year.”
“But you’ve done it. And that’s where I need you. Case closed,” he said firmly before she could protest.
Her shoulders shot up, her mouth opened, but when she saw his stance go rock-solid she dropped the challenge with a flick of a shrug.
“Casualties? Any idea of the scope yet?” she asked.
“Hundreds.” Theo shook his head. “I don’t know. Several hundred at the very least. The island’s got...what?...fifteen or twenty thousand people on it, so it could be more. Patients are presenting with injuries hitting every level of the spectrum, from cuts and bruises to...well...” His mood sobered at the thought of the older gentleman who’d had a fatal heart attack earlier in the day. “Worse than cuts and bruises.”
Unexpectedly, Cailey reached out and took his hand. “Are you sure you don’t need some rest? You look awful.”
“Ha! Thanks. Don’t beat around the bush anymore, do you, Cailey?”
She gave him a sad smile. One that said, I think you might know why.
The door to the locker room swung open and with it came the chaos and mayhem of the quake’s aftermath.
“Dr. Nikolaides?” The nurse was halfway out through the door already. “There’s a helicopter on approach to collect a couple of patients. We need you to sign off on them. And the ambulance is pulling up now.”
“Of course.”
He brusquely pointed toward a cabinet. “There are spare scrubs in there. All sizes. Report to trauma when you’ve changed. You’re working with me. And that’s an order.”
CAILEY STARED AT the empty space Theo had just occupied.
What on earth...?
Bossy so-and-so.
Hadn’t changed a bit. Still lording it about as if he knew everything which—well, in this case he probably did.
You’re working with me. And that’s an order.
Typical Nikolaides privilege. Just because she was a nurse, and had failed to get into med school, and had taken twice as long as anyone else to get her nursing degree—
Stop! She didn’t need to keep raking it all up again. The all too familiar pounding of her heart suddenly leapt into her head, drowning out everything else as she forced herself to take in a deep, steady inhalation and then breathe out again.
You’re a nurse, she told herself. There are patients. This isn’t about you. Or Mr. Bossypants.
She was scared, that was all. The trauma ward wasn’t her optimum work zone. But she’d done it before—admittedly getting one teensy-tiny panic attack on her score card. Never mind. She could do it again—minus the panic attack part. There was no way she was leaving this island with her tail between her legs a second time.
A quick wash and she’d get her priorities back in order. She’d returned to Mythelios to help, not to swish around Theo Nikolaides praying he’d notice her. That ship had long since sailed.
* * *
When Cailey entered the trauma area it was sheer madness. The number of people had doubled. The volume was higher. The urgency of tone was even more shrill.
A shot of fear jettisoned through her bloodstream and exploded in her heart. This was a far cry from the calm, hushed corridors of the maternity ward she’d left behind in England. There the serene environment helped her stay calm—particularly when she struggled with writing up notes and tackling new medicines and...well...any new words. They all took extra time. Her brain processed things differently.
For the most part she’d beaten her dyslexia into a new, workable form of submission. But this?
This was bedlam. She was going to have to shore up every ounce of courage and nursing know-how she had to avoid falling to bits. It had happened before and she never wanted to go back there again. Especially not in front of—
“All right? Ready to go?”
Theo.
Theo was putting his arm round her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. Everything faded for an instant as she just...mmm...inhaled the scent she hadn’t realized was all but stitched into her memory banks.
Could he sense her fear? Had he seen the blood drain from her face when she walked into the trauma unit? Spotted the tremor in her hands before she wove them together to stop their shaking?
He squared himself off in front of her, one large, lovely hand on each shoulder. “Just remember: I’m a humble country doctor and you’re a big city nurse. You can do this, koukla mou. Okay?”
Surprisingly, the term of endearment wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She looked up into his rich green eyes and drew strength from them, felt her breath steadying as he continued.
“I know it seems crazy in here. It is. But this situation is new to all of us and we will each do the best we can. One patient at a time is how we’re going to deal with it. All right? One patient at a time.”
When their eyes caught she felt her heart smash against her ribcage. The man was looking straight into her soul, seeing her darkest fears and assuring her he would be there to help no matter what. She stared at his chest, half tempted to reach out and touch it, to see if his heart was doing the same.
When their gazes connected again he was all business. He steered her over to a gurney that was being locked into place by a couple of rescue workers.
“Right! Cailey, this is Artemis Pepolo. I’ve known this feisty teen since she was born.”
The dark-haired girl nodded a fraction, the rest of her body contracted tightly in pain.
“Artemis has just been rescued after a pretty uncomfortable night under a beam—but you hung in there, didn’t you, my love?”
Artemis’s breathing was coming in sharp, staccato bursts and her lips were rapidly draining of color. She tried to smile for Theo but cried out in pain. Her arm lay at an odd angle and one touch to the side of her throat revealed a rapid heart-rate.
“Pneumothorax?” Cailey asked in a low voice.
Theo gave an affirmative nod, his gloved hands running along the girl’s ribcage as he spoke. “Good. Yes. Traumatic pneumothorax, in this case. The beams of her house shifted when they were getting her out and broke a couple of ribs. No time to get her X-rayed before we relieve the tension. Can you snap on a pair of gloves, get some oxygen into her and clean her up for a quick chest tube?”
Cailey clenched her eyes tight, forcing herself to picture the chart she’d made for herself on how to go through the procedure. Images always worked better for her than words. Miraculously it came to her in a flood of recognition.
And then, as one, they flew through the treatment as if they’d worked together for years.
After snapping on a pair of gloves from a nearby box, Cailey swiftly pulled an oxygen mask round the girl’s head and placed it over her mouth, ensuring the tube was releasing a steady flow. She then took a pair of scissors from a supplies trolley, cut open the girl’s top, applied monitors, checked her stats and covered her with a protective sheet, leaving a mid-sized square of her ribcage just below her heart exposed. She swabbed it with a hygiene solution as Theo explained the protocol he was going to follow.
“I’m using point-five percent numbing agent to numb the second intercostal space and then a shot of adrenaline-epinephrine