Читать книгу: «Reunited With Her Brooding Surgeon»

CHAPTER ONE

‘DID YOU JUST say you have a spare kidney?’

Grace smiled. She knew her phone call would cause Connie Matera some disbelief but she also knew that would rapidly give way to relief and excitement once she explained the situation to her. ‘Yes. I have a spare kidney and it’s going to be yours,’ she repeated.

‘Did someone die?’

As the renal transplant co-ordinator at one of Sydney’s biggest hospitals Grace knew that for transplant recipients their good fortune was often tinged with guilt that someone had died in order to give them what they needed. But that wasn’t the case this time. ‘No. It’s from a living donor.’

‘How—why?’ Grace could hear Connie struggling to find the right words, to ask the right questions. ‘How do you just get a spare kidney?’

‘You’ve heard of the paired kidney exchange programme?’ Grace asked.

‘Yes. But I thought I needed to have someone, a family member or friend, who was prepared to give up a kidney in exchange for one for me? I thought that was how it worked.’

‘Normally, yes, but you got lucky.’ Grace knew that Connie’s family had offered to donate a kidney to her but, while her sister and mother had the same blood type, their tissue type hadn’t been a match and therefore they hadn’t been suitable donors. Which had left Connie having regular dialysis and waiting on the transplant list for a deceased donor. Until now. ‘One of our patients on the exchange programme was a match with a deceased donor so now they don’t need their living donation. That donor has offered to give their kidney anyway and you are the best match on the transplant list.’

‘A stranger is voluntarily giving me their kidney?’

‘Yes.’

‘Has that ever happened before?’

‘Not to my knowledge.’ Was it fear or scepticism Grace could hear in Connie’s voice? She didn’t want her to refuse this offer. It was too generous and meant too much. ‘This is good news, Connie. It’s your lucky day.’

Grace heard Connie’s deep intake of breath. ‘Yes, yes. Of course it is. What do we do now?’

‘I know you’re scheduled for dialysis tomorrow but can you come in today at two for a pre-op appointment? We need to run some tests and I’m hoping to get your surgery scheduled for next week.’

‘That soon?’

‘Your donor was already scheduled for surgery next Wednesday as part of a paired kidney exchange exercise. The theatres and hospitals are all booked and your donor is happy to go ahead as planned, albeit with a different recipient. If I can get one more theatre here, and if all your pre-op tests are good, we’ll add you to the list.’

‘No more dialysis?’

‘Hopefully this time next week, no more dialysis,’ Grace confirmed. ‘I’ll see you at two.’

‘Okay.’

‘And, Connie,’ Grace added with a smile in her voice, ‘buy a lottery ticket on your way in here.’

She was still smiling as she said goodbye and hung up the phone. She loved this part of her job. As a member of the organ donation team it wasn’t often she got to deliver good news without a side serving of sad news. But in the case of the paired kidney exchange programme, where living donors selflessly offered their organs, it was a rewarding part of the job and Grace was excited.

Some days were tough. Delivering bad news to people was never easy but today was a good day. Today she had a kidney to give away. And today she was going to be busy. The phone call to Connie had been the first piece in the final puzzle. All the other donors and recipients were checked and ready to go. Their surgeries were scheduled for next week but she needed to book one more theatre for Connie and pray that her tests results were what they needed to be. Then she needed to keep her fingers crossed that no one got sick between now and then. Or changed their minds.

She had twelve surgeries to schedule across five different hospitals in three different cities. It was going to be the biggest paired kidney exchange exercise that had ever occurred in Australia and she was part of it. She’d been working in the transplant unit for the past two years but had only recently been promoted to the co-ordinator position. She’d been involved in paired kidney exchange operations before but nothing of this magnitude.

She entered Connie’s details into the nephrologist’s appointment calendar and made sure all the relevant documents, recent test results, new test request forms and consent forms were attached before making a courtesy call to Connie’s GP. Hopefully this time next week six people would each have a new, functioning kidney. She knew how much this meant to the families involved. She’d been one of those families herself.

Now she needed to organise a team meeting. Initially she’d had three of the twelve surgeries scheduled to take place here, at the Kirribilli General Hospital, but now she had a fourth, which meant she needed a fourth surgical team—two for the organ retrievals and two more to complete the organ transplants.

Finally, she made a call to the hospital’s PR division. This would be a big story and some media coverage could be a huge benefit to the drive to encourage organ donation. If they pulled it off.

There was no if, she told herself. They had to do this. There was too much at stake for it not to work. It had to be a success.

* * *

Grace fought to subdue the swarm of butterflies that was taking flight in her belly as she stood out in front of the Kirribilli General and faced a barrage of television cameras and media crews. The countdown had begun.

The transplant surgeries were scheduled to begin tomorrow morning at eight, in just over seventeen hours’ time, but first there was a media statement to be made. She wasn’t alone, she was flanked by numerous members of the renal transplant unit and the hospital’s public relations department. It was a glorious sunny afternoon and the media had turned out in force. Grace didn’t know if it was because it was a slow news day or if they really were interested in the story. She hoped it was the latter. This was a fabulous opportunity for some good publicity and a chance to raise organ donor awareness.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves as the hospital’s PR spokesperson introduced Professor Elliot Martin, the head of the renal transplant unit. Elliot would introduce the other nephrologists and then it would be Grace’s turn to speak. Public speaking was so not her thing. She didn’t mind talking to the doctors, liaising with other transplant co-ordinators, and even talking to the patients’ families about death and organ donation. That she could handle, but ask her to stand up in front of a group of strangers, well that was a whole different ball game. And strangers with cameras and microphones were even worse. She’d been taking classes and learning a few tricks. She knew her topic so she didn’t need to be nervous but knowing that and convincing her autonomic nervous system of that fact were two different things.

Peering over the shoulder of the person standing in front of her and scanning the crowd, her gaze landed on Lola—her friend, colleague and flatmate. Lola had given her some advice this morning and as she caught her eye, Lola mimed undoing the top button of her uniform and gave her a wink. Grace bit back a smile. Lola’s advice had been to imagine the crowd naked—apparently that was supposed to make them less intimidating.

She flicked her gaze away from Lola before her friend revealed anything she shouldn’t on national television and before Grace herself burst out laughing. She continued to scan the crowd but it consisted mostly of middle-aged men, doctors and hospital administration staff, all approximately twenty years older than her twenty-seven years, and not anyone she wanted to picture naked.

Whoa, hang on a minute. Her eyes had skimmed the crowd but something, or rather someone, had caught her attention, and she quickly reversed her gaze.

On the opposite side of the crowd, right at the front, stood a man she wouldn’t mind seeing naked.

He was tall, easily over six feet, and his shoulders were broad and his chest solid, yet he seemed to balance lightly on his feet. Despite his size he looked calm and centred and relaxed and she wished she had a tenth of his composure.

His dark hair was closely cropped and a designer two-day growth accentuated his oval face. He had a strong jaw and full lips beneath a narrow nose. His forehead was smooth and there was a slight furrow of concentration between his eyebrows that belied his relaxed stance. His dark eyes looked brooding and serious but that didn’t detract from his looks in the slightest. He was incredibly handsome but that wasn’t the only thing that had captured her attention. It was the contrast between him and everyone else around him. It was more than his height and his perfectly shaped face and symmetrical features. All of this was enhanced by his coffee-coloured skin, making him different enough to stand out from the crowd.

He wore a steel-blue suit with a white shirt that highlighted his complexion. His suit fitted perfectly and was impeccably tailored and pressed. He looked like he took pride in his appearance, and when you looked that good, why wouldn’t you? He was delicious.

There was something vaguely familiar about him but surely that was just her imagination? She’d remember if she’d met him before, he was not someone who would be easily forgotten. It must be one of those déjà vu things, she decided as a flutter of lust rolled in her belly, competing with the butterflies.

She ran her gaze down the length of his suit jacket, taking note of his lean hips and powerful thighs. He was definitely someone she wouldn’t mind seeing naked. She pictured him shrugging out of his jacket and loosening the buttons on his shirt, her mind completely absorbed by the mental image she was painting until she realised she couldn’t recall a word of her speech.

Focus, focus, she told herself, but it was impossible to picture him getting naked and remember her speech.

She averted her gaze and caught Lola grinning at her, eyebrows raised. She dropped her eyes before her friend could make her laugh and focused on her breathing, hoping no one else had caught her ogling this glorious stranger.

* * *

Marcus could scarcely believe his good fortune. He’d arrived at Kirribilli General Hospital on an exchange programme from Western Australia to spend twelve weeks as a visiting specialist with the transplant unit and found that he was just in time to take part in a multiple paired kidney exchange operation. This was exactly why he was here. He’d always avoided returning to the east coast but Kirribilli General was the leading hospital in renal transplants and had pioneered the paired kidney exchange programme.

He’d been in two minds about whether to accept this posting before finally deciding that it was something he needed to do. The opportunity had been too good to pass up, given that he was advocating for the Queen Victoria Hospital in Perth to become involved in the programme too. It stood to reason that he should spend some time in Sydney getting first-hand knowledge.

He looked around at the media throng that was gathered in front of the hospital. He realised that this was a big news story and he appreciated the fact that the hospital’s PR division and the transplant team wanted to grab the opportunity for promotion but he could do without the circus. He itched to get going. He wanted to be in the operating theatre, with a scalpel in his hand. That was the one place where he always felt in control. Any surprises could be dealt with in a calm and clinical manner. He knew he had the skills to handle anything that could be thrown his way in Theatre. He’d spent years honing his skills. He liked to have control and being a surgeon afforded him that. Control and respect.

Elliot Martin, the head of the renal transplant unit, was speaking. Marcus knew he would be introducing the surgical teams soon and he returned his attention to his new boss, not wanting to miss his introduction.

He was excited. This was exactly the sort of opportunity he’d hoped to establish on his return to Perth and to get to be involved so early on was ideal.

He appreciated his good fortune and hoped that, rather than just observing the kidney exchanges, his surgical skills would be required due to the number of operations that were being scheduled. He breathed deeply as he thought of how it would feel to be offered the opportunity to conduct one of the surgeries himself. If it happened, it would most likely be one of the retrievals but he didn’t mind. He just wanted to be involved. Just wanted a chance to showcase his ability. It was one of the few things he knew he excelled at. And a retrieval was still a surgical procedure. It was a little more routine than a transplant but the margins for error were small and it was still an important process.

Doing a retrieval meant he would be removing a healthy kidney from a healthy person, which really contradicted the medical charter of ‘Do no harm’ but, in this case, he believed in the cause, in the greater good such a procedure would mean. He believed in this case that the benefits outweighed the disadvantages. The improved quality of life the selfless donor was offering to an unknown recipient was an amazing gift, although he still found it incredible that people were willing to sacrifice one of their organs, to offer it to a stranger, in return for one of their own loved ones receiving the same gift.

He couldn’t imagine loving someone that much.

He refocused, tuning back in to Elliot’s speech just in time to hear his introduction.

‘I would like to introduce you all to Dr Janet Hosking and Dr Marcus Washington from the Queen Victoria Hospital in Western Australia, who are joining the Kirribilli General renal unit for the next three months.’

He stepped forward as his name was announced and his gaze landed on a petite redhead who was standing to Elliot’s left but had previously been hidden from view behind someone else’s shoulder. She was staring at him with her mouth open. Her heart-shaped face was pale, her skin smooth and creamy but her lips were painted a bright red, almost the same colour as her fiery copper hair. He’d only seen hair that colour once before in his life.

That couldn’t be right. There had to be millions of people with that colour hair in the world.

Maybe he was mistaken. It had been twenty years ago after all. His memory had to be misleading him. Surely this couldn’t be the same girl? What were the chances of that?

But the coil of fear in his gut told him that the chances were high. It was just his luck.