His Emergency Fiancée (2 page)

She grimaced. ‘My bum’s probably not as blue as the scrub nurse’s.’

‘Just give him one of your looks.’

‘Mmm.’

He’d bet she’d already done that. Probably said something, too. And if Guy Chambers had the kind of ego that went with bum-pinching, Kirsty had just shot herself in the foot where her career was concerned, because he wouldn’t give her a decent reference when a consultancy came up. Nothing she could argue with, of course—it’d be what he
didn’t
say that would do the most damage.

‘Kirst, be careful. It’s not a good idea to, well, make an enemy of someone like him so quickly.’

‘Play up and play the game, you mean?’ She shook her head. ‘He might just as well come out with it and say women shouldn’t be surgeons. After all, you need a bit of brute strength as well as skill with a needle, and we
delicate
little flowers…’

‘Come on, Kirst. Tony always said you had the makings of a brilliant surgeon, and he should know. He taught you.’

Kirsty crunched into one of the wafers, savouring the richness of the chocolate and hazelnut filling. ‘And Tony’s on indefinite sick leave, so what he thinks doesn’t count any more.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘So, make my day complete. What have you done?’

‘Um…’ Now definitely wasn’t the right time to ask her.

‘Ben?’ It was more of a warning than a question.

‘I need a favour, Kirst. A big one.’ Sighing, he stood up, retrieved the letter from the kitchen drawer and passed it across to her.

She glanced at the opening and frowned. ‘It’s to you. From your gran.’

He nodded. ‘Read it.’

She did, and her mouth grew tighter and tighter. When she’d finished, she stared at him. ‘Explain. And it had better be good.’

Worse than lit touch-paper. Her voice was very, very quiet. Which meant that Kirsty was absolutely furious. He’d only seen her this angry once before, when they’d been students, and she’d always refused to tell him what had happened.

‘Gran’s poorly,’ he said heavily.

She folded her arms and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Define poorly.’

‘She says it’s angina but…’ He shook his head. ‘You know Gran. She gets the flu and says it’s a slight sniffle. If she’s admitting to angina…’ His voice faded. If his grandmother admitted to that much, what
wasn’t
she admitting to? He’d been asking himself that ever since she’d told him, and the more he thought about it the scarier the possibilities were.

‘Have you spoken to her doctor?’

He shook his head. ‘No point, is there? Patient confidentiality—he won’t tell me a thing unless Gran gives him written permission, and she’s hardly likely to do that if she wants to keep this from me.’

There were more orange sparks in her brown eyes—so Kirsty clearly wasn’t convinced. ‘What you’re saying is, on the strength of something you haven’t even confirmed, you told Morag you’re engaged…to me?’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘Then how was it?’ Her voice was still dangerously quiet.

‘Kirst, she’s the only family I’ve got.’ Not
strictly
true, but Morag was the only one who counted. Ben’s father had died when he was four and his mother had gone to pieces. Morag Robertson had been his rock then—and a year or so later, when his mother had found someone else, a man who hadn’t wanted a small child around to complicate things, and sent Ben to live with Morag. And later still, when he’d been in his teens and his mother had talked about him coming to live with her again, following her divorce. Until she’d found another man to run to three weeks later and had changed her mind again.

‘Ben, why did you tell her you were engaged to me?’

He sighed. ‘It was a mistake.’

‘You can say that again!’

‘Kirst, she’d been on at me to settle down.’

‘And break the hearts of all the single women—and probably half the married ones, too—at Jimmy’s?’

‘Ha, ha.’ He scowled. ‘Kirst, Gran’s old and she’s ill. She wants to see me settled. I told her a white lie, that’s all.’

Kirsty snorted. ‘White lie? I think it’s a
bit
more than that.’

‘I told her I’d met someone special.’ He shrugged. ‘I just made her up to keep Gran happy. But she leapt to conclusions and thought I meant you. I didn’t have the heart to explain, so I let her go on thinking it. I didn’t think it’d do any harm.’ He rubbed a hand across his eyes. ‘I had no idea it was going to go this far. The longer it went on, the more elaborate the lies got…and the next thing I knew, I’d told her we were getting engaged.’

Kirsty frowned. ‘I talked to her on the phone only last week and she didn’t breathe a word to me about it.’

He flushed. ‘I…um…said you were a bit shy about it. About us being friends for so long and not, you know…Anyway, she said she was happy to wait for you to tell her all about it and she wouldn’t dream of embarrassing you by bringing it up until you were ready to talk about it.’

‘You
devious
…Words fail me!’ she growled at him. ‘You’ve got to tell her the truth.’

‘She’s ill.’

‘Ben, have you ever considered that she might have angina, and that’s all? You’re a registrar in A and E—you see cases like that all the time, and you did a rotation on the geriatric ward. She knows you’d realise she had a problem and you’d guess exactly what it was, so she told you about it to stop you thinking the worst. If she was seriously ill, she’d tell you.’

‘Would she?’

Kirsty rolled her eyes. ‘Be sensible. Of course she would. And you know people can live for years with angina. To listen to Morag, you’d never think she was well into in her seventies. She’s on every committee going in the village and she told me she’s doing a course in website design next term.’

‘You know Gran. She’s always done six things at once. But she’s never pressured me about settling down before—I think this is her way of telling me she’s…’ He broke off, unable to voice his fears. Speaking them aloud would make them more real. Would make them
happen.

* * *

He was as bad as Luke.
It hit her like a physical pain. Ben—the one man she thought she could trust—was a liar. She gritted her teeth. She’d always thought Ben was honest. He made it clear to his girlfriends right at the start that he wasn’t in the market for commitment, just for fun. But at heart he was just like Luke, her ex-boyfriend. Lying, to get his own way. The words echoed down the years to her, still searing her heart as much as the day she’d overheard them: ‘The betting’s odds on…’ She’d thought it was so special, and it had all been a lie.

Just like Ben was lying now. Anger burned in Kirsty’s voice. ‘You lied to her.’

‘Yes—no—Kirst, I can’t think straight. All I want is to make Gran happy. If it
is
more than angina…I don’t want her to die, thinking I’m still drifting around.’

‘Still playing at Dr Charming, you mean?’ The words came out before she could stop them—or dull the biting edge to her voice.

He flushed. ‘I just like making people happy, Kirst. And, let’s face it, most of the people in A and E don’t have any reason to smile. If a bit of banter makes it easier to deal with what’s happening to them, that’s fine by me.’

‘I’m not talking about banter. I’m talking about
lying.’

He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Does it have to be a lie?’

Her mouth dropped open. ‘Are you asking me to—to…?’ To marry him?

‘I’m asking you to do me a favour. Will you come to Scotland with me for a weekend as my fiancée?’

‘You’re asking me to lie.’

‘I’m asking you to make an old woman happy.’

Her mouth tightened. ‘And just supposing I’m already engaged to someone else?’

‘Kirst, you haven’t even
dated
anyone in six months.’

The next thing she knew, Ben was sitting down, looking shocked, with a red handprint across his face.
Her
handprint. She swallowed. ‘I’m sorry.’

He rubbed his face. ‘No, I’m sorry. I deserved that. Though I wasn’t implying you’re unattractive, Kirst. Of course you’re not.’

‘No.’ Her voice was dry. She was plain little Kirsty Brown, and she knew it. So did everyone else. Wasn’t that one of the reasons why Luke—? No, she wasn’t going to think about that now.

‘You’re working long hours and spending all your spare time studying, that’s all I meant. And if anyone asks you out you always turn them down. Even I have a hard job dragging you down the pub or the Chinese, and I’m your best friend.’

‘Yes.’ She bit her lip as guilt flooded through her. Ben wasn’t the one she wanted to slap. But slapping her boss or kneeing him where it hurt wasn’t going to help her career. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Me, too.’

They stared at each other for a long moment.

‘So. What now?’ he asked.

‘You
lied
, Ben.’

‘With good intentions,’ he reminded her. ‘All I’m asking is that you’ll be my fiancée for the weekend.’

‘Fake fiancée,’ she reminded him. ‘No.’

He looked at her. ‘Tell me, did Chambers try it on with all the female staff, or just the unattached ones?’

Kirsty thought about it. ‘The unattached ones,’ she said finally.

‘There’s your answer, then. If you’re my fiancée, he’ll leave you alone.’

‘Ben, I am not getting engaged to you.’

‘What’s wrong with me?’ He pantomimed hurt.

‘Want a list?’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘You never clean the bath. You leave wet towels everywhere. You’re untidy. You’ve—’

‘Shared a house with you for the best part of nine years,’ he pointed out, ‘since our second year as med students. So I can’t be
that
bad.’

‘Don’t fish.’ She glowered at him.

Ben poured her another glass of wine. ‘Our engagement could be the best thing that’s ever happened to both of us.’

‘How do you make that out?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s obvious. Gran’ll think I’m settled and she’ll be happy, and Guy Chambers’ll think you’re unavailable so he’ll leave you alone.’

‘More like, he’ll decide that if I’m engaged there’s no point in me taking any more exams because I’ll be off to have hundreds of kids as soon as I get married,’ she said glumly.

‘When he’s had a chance to see your work, he’ll know how good you are and he’ll know you’re headed for the top,’ Ben countered.

‘Even so. Nothing’s going to help the Guy Chambers situation.’

‘This might.’

‘Yeah, right. And then I’ll have every female in the hospital looking daggers at me for wearing your ring.’ She sighed. ‘Why can’t you ask one of them?’

‘Because Gran knows you. She likes you, Kirst. She trusts you.’

‘Read my lips. I am not getting engaged to you.’

‘Just until things settle down.’

‘No.’

‘Please?’

The way he batted his eyelashes at her forced a grin to her lips. Honestly. Charming didn’t go anywhere near enough to describe him. Nearly everyone she knew was like putty in his hands. She knew his faults better than anyone—and he could still sweet-talk her, most of the time. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said grudgingly.

He reached over and hugged her. ‘Thanks, Kirst. I knew I could rely on you.’

Rely on her.
Plain, reliable Kirsty Brown. The words rankled. ‘I
said
I’d think about it. That’s not a yes,’ she warned. Sometimes, she dreamed about dyeing her hair blonde, wearing skirts that were way too short with heels almost too high to walk on, wearing lots of slut-red lipstick and being late for absolutely everything…But that wasn’t her. Kirsty was the one people always rang when they needed help. She was the youngest of four but she’d somehow stepped into the role of being the sensible grown-up one, always getting her brothers out of scrapes and making sure they remembered everyone’s birthdays. That was probably why she’d put up with Ben for so long. And it’d stay that way until Ben found the love of his life and settled down in a country cottage with roses round the door and three perfect children, while she remained firmly superglued to the shelf.

Ben was smiling again. The megawatt smile. The smile that made every other female under the age of seventy faint. The smile to which Kirsty was immune.

‘OK. No pressure. I’ll ask you again on Thursday.’

He was giving her
two days
to think about it? And that wasn’t pressure? ‘Ben Robertson, you’re in a league of your own,’ she said. And she wasn’t in it. Which made her answer on Thursday obvious…didn’t it?

CHAPTER TWO

T
HE
next morning, they were both on early shift and they walked into Jimmy’s together. To Kirsty’s intense relief, Ben didn’t mention anything about their pretend engagement. Maybe he’d thought about it and seen sense. On the other hand, she knew she’d better have some good arguments up her sleeve. When Ben had his heart set on something, he usually got it. And where his grandmother was concerned, he’d spare no effort.

They parted at the entrance, Ben off to the medical assessment unit where he was rostered until the end of the week, and Kirsty to the surgical ward to do a quick round before scrubbing up for her list. Mrs Morgan was still nervous about her bypass, and Kirsty sat on the edge of her bed, holding her hand. ‘I know it’s scary, having an operation, but it’s the best thing for you. You’ll feel so much better afterwards,’ she said softly, ‘that it’s worth a bit of nervousness now.’

Mrs Morgan gave a watery smile. ‘I know I’m just being silly.’

‘It’s a big step. It’s only natural to feel worried about it,’ Kirsty reassured her. ‘Are there any questions you’d like to ask me?’

She shook her head.

‘Mr Morgan?’

The pale-faced man sitting on the chair next his wife’s bed smiled at her. ‘No, love. You went through it all yesterday—what you’re going to do and what’s going to happen afterwards.’

‘And you’re happy you know what to expect? I can go through it again, if it helps,’ Kirsty offered.

‘Would you? I—I just can’t remember what you said.’ Mrs Morgan bit her lip.

‘It’s a lot to take in,’ Kirsty said with a smile. ‘When you come round, you’ll have a tube down your throat—what we call an endotracheal tube—for a few hours. It’s routine after an operation like this to make sure your tongue doesn’t block your airways and it helps you breathe. It means you won’t be able to speak, so we’ll have a pad and pencil at the ready so you can still tell us if there’s anything you need. Your mouth will probably feel a bit dry so the nurses will keep cleaning it for you to make sure you’re comfortable. There’ll be a drain in your chest—that just takes all the unnecessary fluid off and the nurses can check everything’s as it should be—but it’ll be covered by a dressing at first. You’ll have what we call an arterial line in for the first day, so we can check your heart rate and rhythm. We also need to check you’re not retaining fluid, so we’ll need to measure what goes in and out—that means you’ll be on a drip and a catheter.’ She smiled gently. ‘I know that all sounds horrible but it won’t be for long—and you won’t feel like dragging yourself out of bed to go to the loo anyway, on the first day. By day two, you should be on your feet, and you’ll probably be home within a week.’