Festive Fling with the Surgeon
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Karin Baine
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15.9K
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In the first installment of the Christmas North and South series, a transplant surgeon and pediatrician's one night snowballs into a festive fling, and soon they're faced with a choice — will their romance last beyond Christmas? WRAPPED UP…IN EACH OTHER! Transplant surgeon Tamsin is determined nobody will suffer the post-op complications her sister faced. She certainly doesn't have capacity for romance. So, succumbing to passion on a visit to Edinburgh with handsome pediatrician Max is a one-night indulgence… Max has his own reasons for being anticommitment, but when he and Tamsin are thrown back together again temporarily, their snow-melting attraction leads to a whirlwind fling. Only, their feelings are deepening along with their desire. This festive season, will they be brave and embrace the gift in front of them?
CHAPTER ONE
IF TAMSIN’S HEART beat any faster she’d soon be the one in need of a transplant. A jest in bad taste perhaps, but surgeons required a dark sense of humour to deal with the life-or-death nature of their work. Literally having the responsibility of another person’s life in her hands wasn’t something she took for granted, even with all her experience. Especially when it was a ten-year-old girl she’d be operating on. The same age she’d been when she’d first become ill.
She knew all too well the difference a successful medical intervention could make for a child’s future when she’d gone on to live a successful and full life. However, the seriousness of potential complications was never far from her mind either. Not when her older sister was still living with the consequences of having donated bone marrow to Tamsin all those years ago when she’d suffered from acute lymphoblastic leukaemia. The very reason she’d gone into medicine in the first place—to give other children the second chance she’d been given. Even if she’d never quite managed to get past the guilt of her sister’s ill health as a result.
‘Hey, Oliver, I haven’t seen you for a while.’ She spotted the maxillofacial surgeon in the Great Southern Hospital’s foyer and took the opportunity to say hello, whilst distracting herself from any dark thoughts at the same time. On the cusp of performing a kidney transplant was not the time for self-pity.
‘Always busy, like yourself, Tamsin. It’s good to see you, although it looks as though you won’t be hanging around long enough for a catch-up.’ He gave a nod towards her buttoned-up coat.
‘Yes, sorry. I’m on my way to the Great Northern shortly. Just waiting for the call.’
‘Transplant?’
She nodded. ‘Ten-year-old patient with established renal failure.’
Oliver gave a sympathetic head-shake. ‘At least they’re in the best hands with you.’
‘Thanks. I hope so.’
‘Did you hear Lauren’s coming to work here from the Great Northern?’
She had, but hadn’t wanted to be indelicate by mentioning his ex-wife. Since he’d brought it up in conversation, she figured he was okay to talk about it. ‘How do you feel about that?’
‘Lauren is a brilliant reconstructive surgeon. We’ll be lucky to have her here in London with us.’
‘Very diplomatic.’
‘No, really, I’m sure we’ll be fine. We’ll be working with Willow too, which will be nice.’ Their daughter Willow was a doctor at the Great Southern too. Medicine was a real family affair for the Shaws, a difficult concept for Tamsin to get her head around when she was so used to being on her own.
Her family was back in Northern Ireland, a short plane journey from London but one she didn’t make too often these days. Work took all of her focus, keeping her busy enough that she didn’t have time to think about anyone except her patients. Which didn’t leave room for any sort of personal life, even if she had wanted one.
‘Well, I hope things aren’t too awkward for you, and maybe we’ll get a proper catch-up when I’m back from Edinburgh.’ As much as she would love to chat more, her patient came first, and she didn’t want to be as much as a second away when they had the donor organ ready to go.
‘Definitely. I’ll let you go. I see Poppy Evans over there, so I’ll go and bend her ear for a while.’
Tamsin waved Oliver off towards the pregnant redheaded neurosurgeon, then hurried up to the roof where the helicopter was soon ready to take her and the vital organ up to Scotland.
She exchanged pleasantries with the pilot before taking her place inside. It was hard not to get overwhelmed by the situation, not only because of the task ahead, but also regarding the journey there. No matter how many times she was rushed around the country for these important operations, she never got used to it. There was nothing natural about flying in one of these contraptions, at the mercy of the person at the controls.
She supposed that was how her patients and their families thought about the transplants, where she was the one in control of their fate. Although these organs often became available due to tragic circumstances, it was her job to make sure something good came of it. Therefore, she was under tremendous pressure to succeed, not only from the expectations of the families involved but also from herself. She already had the guilt from her own surgery and her sister’s long-lasting health struggles on her conscience without adding more to her burden.
The modern building and landscaped gardens soon disappeared from sight, giving way to busy motorways and green fields once they were outside London. It seemed no time at all before the Scottish countryside came into view, the rolling hills and beautiful scenery reminding her of Northern Ireland.
As expected, once they landed on the helipad atop the Great Northern Hospital there was a flurry of activity on the cold September afternoon. Time was of the essence and it was as essential for her to be in the operating theatre as the kidney which had been transported from London too.
‘The patient is prepped and waiting for you,’ someone informed her, in case she wasn’t already going as fast as she could.
‘Let them know I’ll be on my way as soon as possible.’ Tamsin didn’t know the names of everyone around her, but hoped someone would relay the message.
The team involved in a transplant was huge and impossible to keep track of when there were people from two different hospitals involved. As well as the surgeons performing the transplant, there were the co-ordinator, anaesthetists, nurses and the junior doctors, keen to observe. Ultimate responsibility, though, fell to the surgeons performing the operation. In this case, that was her and the Great Northern’s paediatric surgeon, Max Robertson.
Usually, before a transplant she would meet the patient for a chat, as well as run final tests to make sure the patient was suitable for the transplant. It was the norm to have several patients lined up in case the recipient became ill, or some other complication arose.
In this instance, however, Dr Robertson apparently had a close relationship with the patient and had been keen to manage those things himself. It suited her, meaning they could go straight into surgery, which would take several hours. Time was a huge factor in a successful transplant. Especially when they were dealing with a deceased donor.
He was gowned up already when she arrived in the theatre. Though they hadn’t worked together before, she knew him by reputation. He was loved by the children he worked with, by all accounts, though some of her colleagues had confided that they thought he was a difficult man to read when they heard she’d be working alongside him. A tall, muscular Scot with black hair and a ruddy complexion, he was certainly a striking figure. And a contrast to her almost snowy white skin and honey-coloured tresses.
‘Tamsin O’Neill.’ She introduced herself as she walked into the busy theatre.
‘Everyone has already made introductions. We all know what we’re supposed to be doing. We’ve just been waiting for you,’ he said brusquely, as though she’d been dilly-dallying, and hadn’t foregone a last-minute trip to the bathroom in order to get here as soon as possible. Something she hoped she wouldn’t come to regret during the long surgery ahead.
‘I came from London. With the donor organ,’ she reminded him, but bit her tongue to prevent herself from saying anything more which might be construed as unprofessional.
Given what she’d heard from other people who’d worked with him, and their initial interaction when he hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself, she figured they weren’t going to be best buddies any time soon. Which was okay. They were here to work, and to save a life. This wasn’t a social event. As long as he was as good at his job as she’d heard, she’d forgive him his apparent lack of manners.
There was little more conversation after that, leaving no room for her to get to know him any better and figure out if he was as cold as he seemed on first impression or simply feeling stressed. Even at the top of their field, it wasn’t unheard of to be overwhelmed by the situation. They had a lot of people relying on them, and others hoping to learn from them.
The only talking now would be instructions given by her or Dr Robertson to the theatre team, or vocal confirmation of what they were doing during the procedure.
‘Making incision above the groin.’ Tamsin made the first cut.
Contrary to popular belief, the old kidneys weren’t removed during a transplant. To create access to the large blood vessels at the back of the abdomen it was necessary to push the bowels aside. They had to connect the renal vein to the iliac vein and the renal artery to the iliac artery with fine sutures, every stitch counting. Often there were multiple arteries and veins to connect. Despite initial impressions, they worked well together.
‘I think we can open the clamps now,’ she instructed once they’d finished.
‘Always a magical moment,’ Max commented as blood began to flow through the transplanted kidney, showing some humanity.
She was always relieved at this time too, to see a successful outcome of their delicate work.
‘I think we can close her up now,’ she said, letting Dr Robertson sew the layers of abdominal wall back up.
By the time they’d finished Tamsin was tired, thirsty and her limbs were aching. Her nerves too were stretched to breaking point. Even if everything went according to plan there was always the risk of complications they hadn’t accounted for, and it didn’t stop when the patient was wheeled back to the recovery ward. She would have a catheter and IV fitted, and painkillers administered, with kidney function being monitored daily.
There was the high possibility of the organ being rejected, or infection, and aftercare was equally important to the patient’s future health. A matter close to her own heart, when her sister’s life could’ve been very different if her medical team had been watching things more closely.
‘Good job, everyone.’ Once she was as sure as she could be that the patient was stable and they’d done everything they could, she gave the team their dues, though she didn’t stick around to try and make small talk with Dr Robertson when there seemed little point.
It was a surprise to find him waiting for her in the corridor after she’d scrubbed out. Even more so to see the man out of his surgical attire and without his mask. He obviously kept in shape, the soft blue cashmere sweater he was wearing clinging to his taut torso. She hadn’t been able to see the dimples behind his surgical mask, and she’d got the impression in Theatre he was more of a frowner, but he was smiling at her as he lounged against the wall.
‘Sorry,’ he said with a sheepish look on his face which did funny things to Tamsin’s insides. It was most inconvenient for him to catch her interest in something more than a he’s-such-an-insufferable-grouch-I-never-want-to-see-him-again way.
‘For...?’ It was hard to concentrate when an apologetic alpha male was apparently her type. Not that she’d been aware she even had one when there had been such a big gap between the men in her life.
Her love life was bottom of the list when it came to her priorities. She had her work and her patients to focus on. Besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for her to have settled down with a partner and kids and live happily ever after when her sister was never going to have that scenario for herself. All because of the sacrifices she’d made for Tamsin at an age when she could never have understood the consequences, or the impact they would have on the rest of her life.
It was funny how one word could change her opinion of the man so drastically, and she wondered if that had more to do with his looks. She’d never realised she could be that shallow.
‘For being so curt with you in there. I just like to get the job done, you know.’
‘I know. Though it’s never just a job, is it?’
‘Definitely not.’ He shook his head with a smile. ‘I think I’m more used to being around the kids than adults.’
‘Well, I hope you’re more patient with them than you are with new colleagues.’
He flinched. ‘Sorry. Again. I’ve known Ashlyn McDonald and her family for quite some time and I just didn’t want to let anyone down. I guess I’m more concerned with my patients’ welfare than making new friends.’
It was an admirable sentiment, she supposed. Even if she’d been the one on the receiving end of his attitude today.
‘I get it. We’re under pressure to save lives, and that comes before everything. But remember we’re on the same team. And I’m the one who dropped everything at a moment’s notice to fly over here and do the transplant. I’d also like to point out that, despite what you thought, I didn’t even take time for a comfort break before I joined you.’
‘I know, I know. Please forgive me.’
‘I’ll think about it, Dr Robertson.’ She narrowed her eyes at him, unwilling to give in so easily. It wouldn’t do any good for him to think he could win her over simply by fluttering his long dark eyelashes at her when they would likely be in consultation over their shared patient for some time to come.
‘Please call me Max. Have you eaten? Perhaps dinner would help to smooth those feathers I clearly ruffled.’ He was almost like a different person outside of the operating theatre and though she was still a little bruised by their original encounter he seemed to genuinely want to make amends.
He likely had been totally consumed by thoughts of the task ahead at the time and now was able to relax, something she could appreciate. In her time, she’d met some surgeons who were blasé about their work, who no longer seemed to connect the patients lying at their mercy on the operating table with real people who had families and lives outside the hospital depending on the outcome of the surgery. To find someone who understood her work, and the importance of compassion for the patients, was potent.
Perhaps he really didn’t have any real friends if he was prepared to hang out with someone he barely knew, or tolerated, up until now. Or, just maybe, he was the kind of man who wasn’t averse to hooking up with passing female surgeons, and that was why he was keen to make amends.
A little shiver danced its fingertips along the back of her neck at the prospect. Although she didn’t go in for romantic relationships or one-night stands usually, neither had she taken a vow of chastity. Though it would take more than just a pretty face to do something reckless like spend the night with a colleague she’d just met.
‘I haven’t even checked into my hotel yet, and dinner is usually provided along with accommodation on my travelling expenses.’ There had to be some perks when she spent most of her life either travelling to or working in hospitals where her skills were needed most. Although it was rewarding to see her patients get another chance at life, a little pampering after a long day in Theatre was always appreciated.
‘Do you need a lift? I have my car here.’ He levered himself off the wall, ready to go when she gave the nod. It was her decision whether or not to end things here and now, or see where the night led.
Tamsin wondered if that idea of a well-deserved treat could extend to an evening with a handsome Scot...
Then she remembered she was in Edinburgh to do a job, and that didn’t finish when she left the operating theatre. ‘I’ll probably have to get a taxi. I want to check in on the patient and make sure there’s adequate aftercare in place before I leave.’
‘Of course. I’ll come with you, then we can go get something to eat after.’ He started off down the corridor and held the door open so she could walk ahead of him.
It was possible that everyone had Max wrong, and even more possible that she wasn’t going to have a bath and an early night like she usually did on these work trips.
‘If there are any complications at all, let me know and I can fly straight back over.’ Tamsin was talking to the nurse keeping watch over their patient. She’d already gone through all of the test results and observations since being in the recovery ward, making sure everything was going as well as it should after such a big operation.
It was clear she cared for her patients and it was more than just a job to her. She wasn’t the hotshot, arrogant blow-in from London that Max had supposed her to be, like some others he’d met in his time. The warm Northern Irish accent had taken him by surprise, as had her interest in their patient’s aftercare. Tamsin was obviously someone who cared, and whose duty went beyond the operating theatre. He had a lot of respect for that when the children he worked with meant so much to him too.
With his own childhood consisting of a series of foster homes and adults who’d lied to him, he had a natural distrust of people. He was able to relate to the kids he worked with better. They didn’t make promises they couldn’t keep or expect any sort of emotional commitment from him. They were the only ones he ever let get close.
He’d slipped up once, imagined he’d had a future with Mairi, who he’d met on his first hospital placement. Only for her to cheat on him, breaking his trust as well as his heart. So he’d kept himself emotionally unavailable when it came to relationships.
Which made his decision to ask Tamsin for dinner tonight all the more out of character. He wasn’t a monk by any means, but it wasn’t the norm for him to go out with a colleague. Though, strictly speaking, after they left the hospital she was no longer a colleague, when London was her home and place of work.
Perhaps that was why he’d let his defences down a fraction and could admit to himself that he liked her. She was passionate, not only in her work but in defence of herself when he’d been less than courteous with his welcome. Most importantly, she wasn’t going to be here tomorrow for him to get caught up in any sort of serious commitment. If she was even thinking about him that way...
For now, it might be nice simply to have some company for dinner. They seemed to have a lot in common and she didn’t seem impressed or intimidated by him, like some. He wouldn’t have to put a special effort into trying to be someone he wasn’t. If she didn’t like who he was, or accept his apology, she wouldn’t have agreed to dinner in the first place.
‘You know I’ll be here to follow things up,’ he reminded her as she fretted over leaving the hospital.
‘I know. I just want to make sure nothing is left to chance. If there are any complications at all...’
‘I’ll be on it. I care every bit as much as you do, Tamsin,’ he said softly. He was equally as conscientious when it came to patient aftercare, but he appreciated her commitment.
She nodded and finally appeared to accept leaving the patient in the hands of the team at the Great Northern. ‘I’ll just grab my overnight bag and I’ll be right with you.’
Max waited whilst she retrieved her things from the locker room, watching the sway of her hips in her tight jeans. There was no question she was beautiful, but there was a lot more to her, and Max almost wished he had more time to get to know her.
He understood her apparent need to have control, wanting to be involved in every step of her patient’s care. After a lifetime of being passed around the care system, at the mercy of other people, he too liked to keep a tight rein on what happened in his life these days. Though he knew nothing of Tamsin’s background, it was clear they had a similar attitude to life and work.
‘Ready?’ he asked when she returned, carrying her bag and coat.
She paused to study him for a moment before answering. ‘You know, I usually just hole up in a hotel room after one of these. And I never accept a dinner invitation from surgeons I just met. You’re privileged.’
With a toss of her hair, she sashayed down the corridor.
‘Don’t I know it,’ he whispered under his breath.
