Desire Me

It’d been so long since she’d carried out any procedures, she willed her hands not to shake too much. Not only because it would make what she had to do harder, but she didn’t want her fear to be transmitted to her patient.

“You’ll get Naomi out as soon as I’m free, won’t you?” Claudia’s eyes begged Frankie as much as her voice did.

Frankie nodded, finishing off the procedure and inserting pain relief into the line. She took the torch from her mouth. “I promise.”

The backboard bumped around above them.

“I’m going up on a backboard?”

“We should really keep your neck as still as we can in case it’s been injured. It’s the safest way. I’ll secure you to the backboard and then the rope to that and you’ll be up in a flash.”

“Can you even do that?”

“What?” Frankie stalled for time. How could she answer Claudia’s question honestly when she didn’t even know, herself, if she could do it?

“Fasten the rope onto the backboard while I’m lying on it?”

It was a very good point, and one Frankie hadn’t contemplated. She’d been so worried about making knots that would hold she hadn’t even thought about how she’d manage to get the rope around the backboard.

“Frankie?”

She moved to the opening and shielded her eyes as sunlight streamed down onto her. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t get the backboard down. It keeps getting stuck on an overhang.”

She should’ve known that would happen. Her back was sore where she’d grazed it along the uneven surface on her way down. “What shall we do?”

Her bravado had about left her, gone with the reality of being stuck in a dark musty hole with a badly-injured woman and another one she hadn’t even found yet. She couldn’t do it. For the first time since she’d arrived on Astoria, Frankie almost wished she hadn’t taken the trip. She was Frankie Hamilton, darling of reality TV, she wasn’t Bear Grylls.

She was way out of her league.

Lucas’s voice came down to her, reassuring, filled with a warmth that wrapped itself protectively around her insecurities.

“Have you checked Claudia’s ankle? You need to immobilise it if it looks like a bad break, and then if we make a loop in the rope; you just need to get her arms through and we’ll do the rest.”

She could do that. It was so much easier than tying knots herself and lifting backboards.

“Did you hear that, Claudia? The doctor is getting the rope ready for you.”

Frankie eased her way back over to Claudia and bent to examine her ankle. She didn’t need to look too closely to know that it was badly broken. The fear and pain Claudia must’ve been in was unimaginable. She felt truly humbled.

“Is it broken?”

“I’m afraid so,” Frankie answered. “But the best news is that Dr Davenport up there is the best surgeon I’ve worked with. He’ll have it fixed in no time.”

“Does he have dreamy eyes?” Claudia shared a conspiratorial grin with Frankie. “My pain would be so much easier to bear if he’s hot.”

Frankie didn’t need to sugar coat the truth to make Claudia feel better. She could answer honestly. “Hottest doctor I’ve ever worked with.” She said truthfully. “He’s incredibly hot. He has eyes bluer than the clearest sky and gorgeous blond, wavy hair he tries real hard to smooth down.”

Claudia sniggered. “Sounds like you’ve got a serious crush going on there.”

“Not at all,” Frankie denied. “And don’t you go telling him what I said. His head is big enough as it is.”

“How’re you girls doing down there?” Lucas called.

“I need something to splint Claudia’s ankle and we’re good to go.”

“Stand clear, best we can do is a thick blanket and some masking tape. You can play girl scout with that, can’t you?”

“I’m sure I can.”

Frankie worked to do her best to keep Claudia’s ankle stable before helping her shuffle over to the rope. Moments later, Claudia was raised to the outside amidst thundering applause.

Now all she had to do was find the brave woman’s sister.





#


Lucas had re-set Claudia’s ankle and made sure he’d spoken to her when she came round from the anaesthetic, and still Frankie wasn’t back from the rescue site. His mind conjured up images of the hole they’d made collapsing and trapping Frankie beneath the rubble.

Interspersed with that were memories of her pulling at the rubble with her bare hands, dirt smudges on her face and, finally, the determination mingled with pure fear he could see in her eyes when she was lowered to rescue Claudia. He was concerned for her safety, in the same way he would be any colleague. But even as he told himself that, he accepted it was a lie. She wasn’t simply any colleague. She was Frankie.

Brave, beautiful, stubborn, and way out of his league. He needed to remember that. He wasn’t a world-famous footballer; he was a scarred and bitter disaster-relief doctor. Women like Frankie were to be admired from afar, they weren’t for the likes of him.

Elle Boon, C.C. Cartwright, Catherine Coles, Mia Epsilon, Samantha Holt, J.W. Hunter, Allyson Lindt, Kathryn Kelly, Tracey Smith's books