In the real world, health and safety officials would’ve swooped in and refused them access. But this wasn’t the world as those bureaucrats knew it. This was a small island in the middle of the Caribbean Sea and the only functioning hospital; working there was their only choice.
“I can’t do that.” Her voice was impressively firm.
“Of course you can.” Lucas whirled around, his hand on the main door leading back inside the hospital. “Just run back to the helicopter and go home. There’s nothing you can do here.”
“I have a nursing degree, I can help.”
He pulled a hand through his hair. This was an impossible situation. He needed to find a way to get her off the island and get himself back to work. “Because you’ve got so much experience in disaster relief?”
“I don’t suppose you had any experience the first time you came somewhere like this, did you?”
“I spent years working as a doctor in a real hospital, much more than simply basic training.”
“During my training I did a double rotation in emergency medicine. I’m completely confident I have the skills to help.”
“That makes one of us.” Lucas turned back round and pushed the heavy door open and stepped back into the cauldron of the hospital.
It was hot outside but at least ten times hotter inside. The air conditioning was out because the generators were needed to power machines monitoring patients during surgeries. Having working equipment was so much more important than keeping cool. The heat would increase the chances of infection—but that was a worry for another day. For now, simply treating all of those who needed help was enough of a task.
Lucas didn’t need to turn around to know Frankie was right behind him. To give her credit, she was determined and thick-skinned. Those were both admirable traits.
“Why are you so keen to dismiss me? Can you care for everyone all by yourself?”
No, he couldn’t. But neither did he have time to check her work or pick her up off the floor when she passed out. Earthquakes didn’t give the type of injuries she would have seen in an emergency department. They were nasty, the worst kind of things a human body could endure and still live through.
“I don’t think you’re suited to this type of work.” Lucas made an attempt to gentle his words. Maybe if he was less confrontational she wouldn’t feel the need to try and prove him wrong.
“You’re mistaken. I grew up with a father whose idea of dinner table conversation was a blow by blow account of the marvellous heart surgery he’d performed that day…”
Lucas couldn’t help himself. “And a mother who, no doubt, chatted about the fashion industry and shoe shopping.”
“Ah. You know my background and you’ve judged me already.” Frankie caught hold of Lucas’s arm, making him turn back to face her. “Do you know how many times I’ve been underestimated?”
“I know your father is a world renowned heart surgeon. I also know that talking about his surgeries over dinner is not the same thing as being elbow deep in someone else’s body. I certainly know that having a mother who is a famous model does not make you a great candidate to work here.”
She sucked in an annoyed breath at his harsh words. Why couldn’t she see it from his point of view? She was a TV star and arm candy for a footballer. By now, Lucas had hoped to make her mad enough she’d stomp back off to the helicopter and leave him the hell alone. If anything, her feet, encased in stupidly towering heels, were planted even more firmly on the ground.
“You have to give me a chance to prove you wrong.” There was a slight pleading note to her words, but mostly she still sounded firm. In control and definitely not wavering. Again, he couldn’t help but note these were qualities that would make her a good nurse. If she could actually get through a day without passing out.
Lucas sighed. He was wasting valuable time arguing with her and it didn’t really matter to him whether she worked out or whether she hit the deck the moment she faced sights she couldn’t handle. Except he lived his life controlling his decisions, being in charge of every little thing he and those around him did. Because if he didn’t, he could be the architect of another tragedy, and he already had enough blood on his hands.
“You’ve got scrubs in one of those fancy bags?”
She nodded. “Tell me where I can change and I’ll be right out to help you.”
Lucas pointed to a door up the corridor. “Change in there, meet me at the double doors to your right.”
He tried not to think about her taking her clothes off—those long, long limbs of hers stepping out of her figure-hugging designer dress and into the same shapeless scrubs all the nurses wore—because if he did, there’d be no way he could concentrate on his next task.
The operation he had scheduled next was sure to have Frankie begging into her mobile phone for whoever had dropped her off to pick her back up again, stat. If, of course, she could even get a signal given most of the cell towers on Astoria had been destroyed.
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