Cinderella's Kiss with the ER Doc, page 1
The policeman put a firm grip on Lucas’s arm. “Mr. Hastings, calm down.”
Lucas threw out his other arm, sending the paperwork scattering about the floor. He was caught in one of those stupid prank shows. Or something even worse. He had patients to see. He had notes to write up. He had no time for this. And the fact that the new colleague he’d considered attractive a few hours ago was in on this made it even more annoying.
“I have work to do,” he declared.
There was an expletive from the floor at his feet. Skye was picking up the papers he had scattered, one clutched in her hand. She stood up, pushing her hair back from her face.
“I bet you do,” she said. The tone of her voice stopped him dead.
The look on her face was stuck between incredulous, scornful and laughing. She held the paper before him. “Because if this is true—Lucas Hastings?” She said the word with a question in her voice. “You’re the new Duke of Mercia, and a potential billionaire.”
Dear Reader,
It’s hard to believe that this is my fifty-first book for Harlequin. Time seems to have passed in a blink of an eye and I can still remember that day I got my call to tell me my first book—It Started with a Pregnancy—would be published. The fact that I’m still here shows you all how much fun I’m still having, so if any of you ever have a romance idea and think you might like to write a story, I urge you all to check out the Harlequin website and give it a go!
Cinderella’s Kiss with the ER Doc is Skye and Lucas’s story with some of my favourite themes. It’s set around Christmas and New Year, and involves a surprise secret inheritance that reveals a title and a huge ancestral estate. Letting my characters work through their issues including bereavement, press interference and a self-centred relative before finally reaching their happy-ever-after was so much fun!
Hope you enjoy reading,
Scarlet Wilson
Cinderella’s Kiss with the ER Doc
Scarlet Wilson
Scarlet Wilson wrote her first story aged eight and has never stopped. She’s worked in the health service for more than thirty years, having trained as a nurse and a health visitor. Scarlet now works in public health and lives on the west coast of Scotland with her fiancé and their two sons. Writing medical romances and contemporary romances is a dream come true for her.
Books by Scarlet Wilson
Harlequin Medical Romance
California Nurses
Nurse with a Billion Dollar Secret
Night Shift in Barcelona
The Night They Never Forgot
Neonatal Nurses
Neonatal Doc on Her Doorstep
A Festive Fling in Stockholm
His Blind Date Bride
Reawakened by the Italian Surgeon
Marriage Miracle in Emergency
Snowed In with the Surgeon
A Daddy for Her Twins
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To my team of girls: Elaine Kerr, Natalie McLeod, Jennifer Reid, Gillian Robertson and Ruth Convery. Is working supposed to be this much fun?
Praise for Scarlet Wilson
“Charming and oh so passionate, Cinderella and the Surgeon was everything I love about Harlequin Medicals. Author Scarlet Wilson created a flowing story rich with flawed but likable characters and...will be sure to delight readers and have them sighing happily with that sweet ending.”
—Harlequin Junkie
Scarlet Wilson won the 2017 RoNA Rose Award for her book Christmas in the Boss’s Castle.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EXCERPT FROM SURGEON PRINCE’S FAKE FIANCÉE BY KARIN BAINE
CHAPTER ONE
IT ONLY TOOK a few seconds for Skye Carter’s Spidey-sense to start tingling. She’d been aware of the low-level tension in the air as she’d dashed between one cubicle and another. A quick scrub change had been required when an elderly patient had vomited on her, and she was pulling her blonde bob back into a scrunchie as she heard the voices escalate.
‘He said he’d be back!’ an angry man was shouting. ‘And that was ten minutes ago.’
Her hair wouldn’t comply with her wishes. It was her own fault. In a moment of odd impulse in the hairdresser’s she’d asked her stylist to take three inches off her hair. The blonde bob was lovely but touched her shoulders, so didn’t quite comply with nursing regulations, meaning she’d spent the last week battling with hair clips and scrunchies in an effort to tie it back.
She gave up and increased her strides as the shouting continued. ‘Where on earth is he? This place is a disgrace. You should all be ashamed of yourselves.’
Skye took one glance at the whiteboard nearby to check the name of the patient.
Roan Parrish, three years old, Paeds.
A child. Of course. Relatives were always over-emotional when it was a child that was sick, and she didn’t blame them one bit.
‘Enough,’ she said sharply as she stepped into the cubicle and turned to look at the red-faced man. ‘I’m Skye Carter, the A&E sister. What can I do to help you?’
Some people would question her de-escalation technique. But over the years Skye had learned not to go in with a quiet, nice approach. She’d realised when someone was loud, angry and potentially aggressive, to draw a line in the sand straight away. It tended to jerk back people’s immediate behaviour, and let them know she wasn’t going to be bullied. She certainly wasn’t going to put up with bad behaviour towards her staff, but going on to ask how she could help tended to cut straight to the heart of the problem, where people could say exactly what it was they wanted.
The man gave a few short blinks and pointed at the child on the bed. ‘He said he was going to be back soon.’
‘Who said that?’ She picked up the nearest chart to scan what it said. Another glance back at the board told her that although the child had been assigned to Paediatrics, they hadn’t yet attended. Great.
‘The doctor who was here. Scottish guy.’
She nodded, glancing at a few more notes. Lucas Hastings. She hadn’t met him yet as she’d been on leave for a while—but, to be fair, she’d heard good things. He was a new registrar in the A&E department and at his level she would have expected him to have dealt with this child appropriately.
She moved over to Roan, who was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, his dark skin damp. A quick touch of his forehead told her he was running a slight temperature. He was attached to a monitor, so she pressed the button to check his blood pressure again and recorded his readings, pulling an ear thermometer from a drawer to add to the information already gathered.
There was a thudding noise outside and a guy appeared at the curtains, breathless and carrying a unit of blood in his hand. His brow furrowed as he looked at Skye but, seeing her uniform, he carried on into the cubicle and started to speak quickly.
‘Mr Parrish, sorry for the delay, but the lab called me. Roan’s blood levels are a concern and we need to start a transfusion as soon as possible.’
It took Skye’s brain a few seconds to adjust. The doctor had a thick Scottish burr, and his words came out quickly. She could see something similar happening with Mr Parrish. The man blinked and opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Skye blinked too. Lucas Hastings was more than handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, with slightly longer dark hair and eyes the colour of an emerald ring she’d once admired in a jeweller’s shop. At twenty thousand pounds, it was the kind of thing a girl could only dream of.
Lucas put his hand on the man’s upper arm. ‘Is there any way to get in touch with Roan’s parents? I’d really like to talk to them too.’
Skye moved around behind them and grabbed an IV infusion kit and infusion pump. Her actions were instinctive and automatic. It only took her a few seconds to set them up and run the blood through the line.
This guy wasn’t the parent? No wonder he was so worried. She gave him a quick glance. Mr Parrish wore his years well. He could be anything from early fifties to late sixties, and in this day and age it didn’t pay to assume anything about who might be a parent.
Mr Parrish shook his head. ‘My son and his wife are in the Caribbean. She’s from there, and her sister is getting married today. They’re only away for four days and Roan is staying with me.’
Lucas gave a nod. ‘Was Roan born here?’
Skye tilted her head. Her years of experience meant she knew exactly why Lucas was asking the question. It was smart. But not all doctors got there quite so quickly.
Mr Parrish shook his head. ‘No, he was born in Africa. My son was working there at the time. We have family there, and he was helping set up the accounts for the family business.’
‘I don’t suppose you know if Roan had a heel prick test as a baby?’
Skye could tell Mr Parrish was starting to get agitated again. He shook his head and tugged at the collar of his polo shirt. ‘I have no idea. Does it matte
Skye handed over the electronic prescribing tablet to Lucas, indicating to him to prescribe the blood transfusion. It couldn’t be set up until it was prescribed and they’d both double-checked the labelling. Experience had told her exactly where this conversation was heading.
‘Have a seat, Mr Parrish,’ she said gently.
‘Is it bad?’ His dark eyes were full of anguish as he turned towards her. Skye’s stomach twisted. He was terrified for his grandson.
‘It’s manageable,’ she replied. She was always completely honest with her patients.
Lucas’s green eyes met hers. She’d never worked with this guy before, and had no idea about his patient skills or techniques. But somehow he seemed like a safe pair of hands.
He looked as if he might want to say something to her, but instead his fingers moved quickly over the prescribing tablet, then set it down next to Mr Parrish. He took a breath. ‘Have you heard of sickle cell disease?’
The man’s nose and brow wrinkled. He gave a slow nod but still had a look of confusion on his face. That told Skye a lot. He clearly didn’t have someone in his family already affected by this disease.
Lucas continued. ‘Our tests show that Roan has sickle cell disease. In the UK, all new babies are checked with a heel prick test after they are born. Because Roan was born in Africa, it’s likely he missed that. It would have picked up the fact that Roan might be affected by sickle cell disease. It’s why the lab phoned me, and I went to get the blood.’
Mr Parrish pulled out his phone. His hands were shaking. ‘Is this going to help my grandson?’
Lucas nodded. ‘We’ll get him started on treatment. I’m really sorry the paediatricians haven’t seen him yet. But this can’t wait. We’ll start this now, and I can give you a basic outline.’
Mr Parrish shook his head. He was still fumbling with his phone and Skye put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Is it your son you want to get hold of?’
He nodded and she closed her hand over his. ‘Would you like me to do it for you?’
His bottom lip trembled and he nodded again.
She waited until he slid the phone open, then glanced at Roan’s electronic record for his dad’s name. She dabbed her initials into the electronic prescribing tablet, gestured for Lucas to do the same and held the blood label where they could both check it.
She read the details out loud, waited for him to confirm, then also confirmed the run rate for the IV infusion. Within seconds, it was set up and running.
She gave them both a smile. ‘Mr Parrish, I’ll step outside and speak to your son.’
She just knew that he wasn’t going to be in a position to absorb anything she told him right now. So she found the number, adjusted the dialling code to connect with the Caribbean and took a deep breath.
After a few seconds of hesitation, the call connected and was answered after a few long rings, to sounds of music. ‘Dad?’ came the yell.
‘Sean Parrish? My name is Skye Carter. I’m a sister at A&E in The Harlington Hospital, London.’
* * *
It took Lucas five attempts to find the new mystery sister. He tried the nurses’ station, the treatment room, the office, the sluice and then the linen closet before he was finally pointed in the direction of the staffroom. It could be hard to find a quiet space in one of the busiest A&Es in London.
As he pushed the door open he could hear her talking calmly. She was explaining in clear terms what sickle cell disease was, how they were currently treating Roan and what the paediatricians would do next. This clearly wasn’t her first rodeo, and he was impressed by her knowledge of something that wouldn’t be routine in A&E.
He waited until she’d ended the call before he picked up a packet of biscuits and sat down next to her, passing them to her. ‘Thanks for that.’
She picked out the top digestive and took a bite. ‘No problem. Is someone with Mr Parrish right now?’
He nodded. ‘One of your staff, Leona, is keeping an eye on Roan’s obs and sitting with Mr Parrish. The paed has just arrived. They had an arrest. That’s why they were so long.’
Skye’s eyebrows raised. ‘In Paeds? Everything okay?’
Lucas leaned back against the slightly battered chair. ‘Severe allergic reaction. Transferred to PICU on an adrenaline infusion.’
They both sat for a few moments. No one liked it when kids were sick. An arrest in an adult was difficult enough, but in a child?
He held out his hand. ‘Lucas Hastings,’ he said. ‘I’ve been here a few months. I don’t think we’ve met before.’
‘I haven’t been here,’ she said quickly, before sliding her hand into his. ‘Skye Carter.’
She didn’t expand on why she hadn’t been there, and even though he was curious he wasn’t going to ask. Her warm hand felt good in his and she had a firm grip that she pulled away a little quicker than he hoped for.
‘Where did you work before, Lucas?’
‘Liverpool, Glasgow, and a short spell in East Anglia with the air ambulance service.’
That seemed to catch her attention and she frowned. ‘How did you land that?’
‘A friend was sick at short notice,’ he said. ‘He asked me to cover and it suited them, and me.’
She took another bite of her biscuit. ‘Good experience.’ She gave an approving nod.
He pulled a face. ‘Yes, and no. Sea and mountain rescue were certainly interesting. A lot of farming accidents. But the worst part was always being first on scene at some of the country road traffic accidents.’
She closed her eyes for a second and he could see her shudder. If she’d worked here a while, she’d likely seen just as many horrors as he had. He was trying to figure this new colleague out.
It had been a surprise to sprint back into the hospital cubicle and see the unfamiliar blonde, holding her own with an air of authority. Her swift movements and how she’d just spoken to Roan Parrish’s dad told him that she had experience that matched his own. He was curious about her. Skye? The staff here were friendly enough but no one had mentioned a missing sister.
‘Cool accent,’ she said unexpectedly. ‘Which part of Scotland are you from?’
He gave a brief laugh. ‘All of it, and none of it.’ Her nose wrinkled and he continued. ‘I was born somewhere near London, but then my mum moved to Dumfries. We stayed in Glasgow, Ayrshire, Edinburgh, even the Shetland Islands at one point, then we moved to Europe for a while. Spain, Gibraltar and Portugal, before coming back to Scotland so I could finish secondary school.’
Skye gave a wide smile. ‘Wow, what a childhood.’ There was a wistful light in her eyes. ‘It’s been London and London for me, and I always wanted to try someplace else.’
‘Another country?’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe. Or even another part of this country.’ She took a breath and her smile tightened a little. ‘I had family ties so had to stay put, but that’s changed now, so it might be time for a change.’ Her eyes looked off to the far wall, and he could tell she was seeing images in her mind. ‘Where’s your mum now?’ she asked, the smile reappearing.
He got the oddest sense of vulnerability from her. Family ties that had changed? It was clear she was trying to change the subject and he understood that.
He said the words he’d said a number of times before. ‘Not actually sure right now. Let’s just say she’s always been a bit of a wanderer.’
Skye gave him an odd look. ‘Don’t you keep in touch?’
‘I try to,’ he said, instantly knowing that Skye would pick up the implication. ‘She’s an independent woman, always moving onto the next place, and the next circle of friends. My friends at university nicknamed her the Scarlet Pimpernel.’
Skye let out a laugh. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You know the phrase: They seek him here, they seek him there...? My mum is a bit like that. I never know where she will pop up next.’ He smiled as he remembered the late-night calls declaring she was in a part of the world that he’d sometimes never even heard of.
Skye took the last bite of her biscuit. ‘Straight over my head. Guess I’m not cultured enough. We didn’t do The Scarlet Pimpernel at school. We did Romeo and Juliet and I had definite issues with it.’
