Katy clenched her fists and told herself firmly that she didn’t care who Jago was dating. It was none of her business.

And she wanted to end the conversation.

‘I’d better get back to the main area and see some more patients,’ she said quickly, anxious to get away from Charlotte. She was nice but she didn’t need to talk about Jago. Working with him and seeing him every day was bad enough without talking about him as well.

CHAPTER FOUR

KATY’S first week passed quickly and every time she looked up Jago seemed to be there, challenging her, asking questions, his handsome face inscrutable.

Determined not to make a mistake, she examined every patient meticulously, made sure that her questions were detailed, never took anything at face value. And in her opinion she’d performed well. But Jago hadn’t uttered a single word of praise and she was starting to feel the strain.

Was he going to keep this up indefinitely?

Did he really think that she wasn’t up to the pressures of A and E or did he have another reason for not wanting her in his department.

A more personal reason perhaps?

On her first Saturday night working on A and E a fight broke out in the street behind the hospital. They heard the sound of police sirens and a few minutes later a group of drunks staggered through the door that led to the ambulance bay, half-supporting a man who seemed barely conscious.

‘Hey, you!’ One of the drunks waved a hand at Charlotte who frowned with distaste.

‘You can’t come in through that entrance,’ she said tightly. ‘It’s reserved for emergency vehicles. You need to—’

‘Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,’ the man slurred, his eyes flashing angrily at Charlotte as he struggled to remain upright and focus. ‘Get me a bloody doctor. Now!’

Charlotte stiffened and turned to Jago expectantly.

‘This is one for Katy,’ he delivered softly, his dark eyes connecting with Katy’s in unmistakable challenge.

There was no missing the message in his gaze. This was one of the situations he was convinced she’d never be able to deal with, and he was testing her.

She almost laughed. She’d probably had more experience with drunk, violent men than he had.

Ignoring Charlotte’s shocked murmur of protest, Katy stepped forward, her manner calm and professional.

‘That looks like a nasty cut.’

She addressed her remarks directly to the injured man, who barely acknowledged her presence.

His head rolled onto his chest and his expression was glazed.

Was he drunk or was he suffering the consequences of a head injury?

She’d read enough to be aware of the potential pitfalls of dismissing someone as drunk. There were plenty of horror stories about people who’d been discharged from Casualty only to die the next day as a result of a head injury that no one had taken seriously. Drink could mask a number of symptoms and she had no intention of missing anything.