Jennifer Taylor - The Pregnant Surgeon

Her life had been going according to plan and she didn’t want anything to change, but she might not be able to stop it. Dylan Archer’s advent into her life had added a new dimension to the equation and, whether she liked the idea or not, she might not be able to get things back to how they had been before.

‘GOOD work!’

Dylan smiled when Tom Barnes clapped him on the back as he came into the changing room. They had just finished their last operation for the day—the one to repair Ada Harper’s hiatus hernia—and he knew that Tom was as pleased as he was that it had gone so well. Ada was now in Recovery and would be transferred to the surgical ward as soon as she came round from the aneasthetic. However, Dylan wasn’t anticipating any problems.

‘Thanks, but you should give yourself a pat on the back as well. Anaesthetising a patient of that age is no mean feat, buddy!’

‘I know.’ Tom’s face split into a wide grin as he stripped off his Theatre greens and tossed them into the laundry hamper. ‘I did one heck of a job in there, too, didn’t I?’

Dylan gave a bark of laughter at such unashamed lack of modesty. ‘You certainly did. It’s no wonder Joanna overlooks your dodgy dress sense if that’s any indication of your expertise.’

‘What do you mean, “dodgy dress sense”?’ Tom tried—and failed—to look suitably offended as he took his T-shirt off a peg and inspected it. ‘This is the real McCoy, I’ll have you know. A genuine, bona fide surfer’s shirt, only given to those brave souls who’ve ridden the Big One.’

‘The Big One, as in Hawaii?’ Dylan whistled. ‘Then I stand in awe of your surfing talents as well as your anaesthetising skills. No wonder you’re the star of Joanna’s team.’

‘Thank you kindly. It’s nice to be appreciated although I might need to look to my laurels now you’ve joined us.’ Tom dragged a towel out of his locker and flung it over his shoulder as they headed for the showers.

‘What do you mean?’ Dylan paused and looked at the other man in surprise.

‘That my undoubted talents might not be enough to keep me in pole position as our revered boss’s star performer.’ Tom grinned as he reached a long arm into the cubicle and turned on the water. ‘The lovely Joanna obviously has a soft spot for you.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Dylan denied, stepping into the cubicle and hurriedly turning on the jets. The water was icy cold and he gasped when it hit him. Shivering, he quickly adjusted the temperature then looked up when Tom’s voice came from the neighbouring stall.

‘It’s unheard of for Joanna not to give a new recruit a thorough going over,’ Tom shouted above the noise of the water. ‘I can’t recall her ever letting anyone get on with the job without first checking to ensure he knows what he’s doing. You can have a list of references as long as your arm but she still has to be sure you’re equal to the task, so how come she gave you free rein today? What’s your secret?’

‘Oh, I expect she’d seen enough when I operated on that chap with the ruptured spleen,’ Dylan replied uncomfortably, because he’d heard the speculation in Tom’s voice. A wave of heat that had little to do with the temperature of the water rushed through him and he grimaced. The thought that Joanna might have treated him as a special case was both intriguing and scary. Whilst he appreciated the fact that she trusted him enough to do his job, he didn’t want to get carried away by the idea that she might have afforded him special treatment for any reason other than his professional skills…

The hell he didn’t!

Did Joanna see him as rather more than just a very new colleague? he wondered euphorically. And was that why she’d waived her rules today? His mind ran riot with the idea so that he missed what Tom said and had to apologise. ‘Sorry. What was that?’

‘I said that it still isn’t like her to be so lenient.’ The water in the neighbouring stall was suddenly switched off but Tom didn’t bother lowering his voice. It came booming over the partition.

‘Joanna is paranoid about making sure everything is done to her exacting standards. That woman lives and breathes surgery to the exclusion of everything else. I don’t know how you managed it, my friend, but you’ve achieved the impossible. You’ve made Joanna Martin behave like a human being for once, and I and the rest of the staff salute you!’

Joanna left the changing room as soon as she was dressed. It had been a busy day but she was pleased with what she had achieved. She checked her watch as she hurried towards the stairs and smiled when she realised that she’d have time to go over her speech before she needed to get ready for the dinner. She’d got through her list that day in record time thanks to the fact that Dylan Archer had taken half her patients, so she may as well make the most of the early finish. Although she was confident that she had covered all the points she wanted to make, it wouldn’t hurt to go through her notes one last time…

Joanna is paranoid about making sure everything is done to her exacting standards. That woman lives and breathes surgery to the exclusion of everything else. I don’t know how you managed it, my friend, but you’ve achieved the impossible. You’ve made Joanna Martin behave like a human being for once, and I and the rest of the staff salute you!

Joanna was passing the men’s changing room when Tom’s voice suddenly boomed out into the corridor. She came to an abrupt halt, feeling herself trembling when she realised what he’d said. Did the staff really consider her dedication as a form of paranoia? Might it even be true? She didn’t want to believe it but she couldn’t deny there was some truth in what Tom had said. She did live and breathe surgery but she’d needed to be completely focused to get where she was. She was a woman in a man’s world and it had needed total commitment to get her this far…

But surely she was entitled to a life apart from her work?

The thought slid into her mind and she frowned because it was the second time that day she’d found herself questioning the life she had chosen. It didn’t make sense because she was perfectly happy with what she had achieved, but then the rest of Tom’s statement didn’t make much sense either. To suggest that Dylan Archer possessed any kind of power over her was ludicrous!

Joanna’s lips snapped shut as she hurried to the stairs. She deliberately closed her mind to the little voice inside her head which was calmly pointing out that the suggestion had simply mirrored her earlier thoughts. Maybe she had toyed with the idea that Dylan Archer seemed to have a strange effect on her, but a stint in Theatre had soon brought her feet safely back onto the ground. Dr Archer was a colleague and that was all he would ever be. The chances of him turning her ‘into a human being’—whatever that meant—were nonexistent. She didn’t intend to get that involved with him!

Joanna was more than a little irked by the suggestion as she let herself into her office. Fortunately, it was gone five and Lisa had left so she was spared having to make small-talk with her secretary. She found her speech then sat down at her desk. There was a stack of letters in her tray for signing but she would deal with them after she had read through her speech. She wanted to be sure she was word perfect because it was important that she should put on a good show that night. She was Joanna Martin, Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons, Head of Surgery at St Leonard’s Hospital, and that was something to be proud of. Whether or not her staff considered her to be paranoid or inhuman was neither here nor there.

Joann quickly read through the speech from start to finish but the words which had sounded so fluent and interesting that morning now sounded stilted and pompous. Panic hit her as she pictured herself standing up in front of the august gathering and watching them yawning with boredom. What on earth was she going to do? She couldn’t possibly hope to rewrite the whole speech at this late stage.