The Surgeon's Miracle / Dr Di Angelo's Baby Bombshell Read Free Page B

said softly. ‘You can still do that. Your leg will heal.’
    ‘Are you sure?’ Cos it doesn’t feel any better yet. It’s gonna take for ever and I feel like about a hundred.’
    ‘Lucas, it’s only been just over a week,’ he said gently. ‘It’ll take a while, but I’ve fixed all the bones together, and once they’ve all knitted back into place and we can get the hardware off your ankle, you’ll soon be up and running. Just be patient. You’ll get there and you’ll soon get your fitness back.’ He looked around. ‘So where’s Mum today?’
    ‘At the doctor’s with my brother. He’s got tonsillitis. He gets it all the time.’
    ‘Poor kid. I used to get tonsillitis. It’s nasty.’
    ‘Better than smashing your leg up.’
    Andrew grinned wryly. ‘Yeah, it probably is.’ His eyes flicked to Libby’s. ‘I’m on my way down toA and E—lad with a classic fib fracture, apparently. I’m probably going to have to take him to Theatre, so you’ll need to find room for him, but I’ll be back up after I’ve seen him to check last night’s admissions. And maybe we can find time for a coffee—I was hoping to get one earlier while we went through the notes together, but we got a little sidetracked,’ he added softly, and she felt colour brush her cheeks.
    So that was what he’d wanted. Not to ask her to go away for the weekend at all, but to talk through the notes. So why had he? ‘I’ll make you one when you get back,’ she suggested, but he shook his head.
    ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get them and grab some sandwiches and we can eat while we talk—unless you have plans for lunch?’
    She shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her mouth. ‘No. I hardly ever have time to eat, never mind plan it!’
    He tutted. ‘I’ll get some for you, too, then, and I’ll see you in a bit. It looks like you’ve got your hands pretty full with this young man for a minute.’ He turned back to him and gave the boy’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. ‘Chin up, Lucas. You’ll get there.’
    And with a smile at him and a slow, lazy wink at Libby, he strode off down the corridor, leaving her wondering how she was going to get through the weekend without melting into a puddle of mush.
    ‘Right—let’s get you back on the ward,’ she said to Lucas, dragging her thoughts back in line, ‘and you can start planning your return to basketball.’
    He set off again, but by the time they got back to the ward he was exhausted, and once back at his bed she brought him his lunch and settled the rest of the boys in his bay down for a rest until the visitors arrived at three.
    It took bribery and a little coercion, but finally by onethirty they were all quiet and she headed back to the office where the endless paperwork was still waiting for her.
    The paperwork, and Andrew, with sandwiches and coffee. ‘I was about to start without you. Egg and cress or chicken salad?’
    ‘Either,’ she said, wondering why her office suddenly seemed so small and airless. Andrew was ripping open the packets, handing her one of each with a raised eyebrow, and she took them with a smile and tried to remember how to breathe. ‘Thanks. So how’s the kid with the fib fracture?’
    ‘Sore and feeling a bit silly. Apparently the idea was to jump off his trampoline onto his skateboard, only he fell off the edge of the board when he landed.’
    ‘Idiot! Of course he did! What is it with boys?’
    Andrew winced. ‘Don’t. I can’t tell you how many close shaves I had as a child. The kid’s father was funny, though—reminded me of mine. He described it as an ill-conceived idea, poorly executed,’ he said with a chuckle.
    ‘Oh, dear. So no sympathy from that quarter, then,’ she said, joining in his laughter while she studied the smudges under his eyes and wondered how he kept going.
    ‘Not much. He’s managed to snap the fibula but it’s a nice clean break and it’ll screw back easily—better than a ligament injury long term