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‘I would. Thanks.’ Was he ever going to mention the kiss they’d shared or was it just going to be consigned to the archives without further reference? Was that the usual end to an evening out for him? Did he kiss women like that all the time?
As if reading her thoughts, his eyes moved to hers and her heart started to beat faster. His mouth tightened and he cleared his throat. ‘I need to get on.’
‘Yes. Of course you do.’ Her voice was a croak and he sucked in a breath and turned away from her, yanking open the door and leaving the room with a purposeful stride.
He was always walking away from her.
Kyla stared after him in mounting frustration. She wanted to run after him and ask the questions that were hovering on her lips.
What are you playing at?
Aren’t you going to say anything about the kiss?
Are you going to ignore what’s happening between the two of us?
Or maybe she’d imagined the whole thing and he just didn’t find her attractive. ‘Men,’ she muttered to herself, cleaning the dressing trolley ready for her next patient. ‘How can they accuse us women of being confusing?’
She tried to keep her mind focussed on the job all day and then at five o’clock she joined Ethan in his consulting room.
‘Mary and Shelley are just coming.’ She looked at him, trying not to be intimidated by his cool, formal appearance. ‘You’re wearing a suit again.’
He gave a faint smile. ‘I’m at work.’
‘And does the suit help you keep the distance you need from people?’ She asked the question without thinking and then immediately wished she’d kept her mouth shut when he looked at her steadily.
‘This isn’t the right time, Kyla.’ His voice was soft and she felt the colour rush into her cheeks because she knew it wasn’t the right time and she was furious with herself for even showing that she cared.
She wished she had the ability to be as indifferent as he obviously was.
Hurt and confused, she turned as she heard a tap on the door.
Mary Hillier walked in with Shelley, and Ethan immediately waved a hand at the two chairs he’d placed next to the desk. ‘Sit down. I can see you’re worried so let’s get straight to the point.’ He outlined the results of the blood tests, explaining in simple, precise language.
Mary was looking relieved. ‘So tell me more about this ITP thing. What exactly does it mean?’
‘It means that ther
e aren’t enough platelets in the blood. If you cast your mind back to biology, you’ll remember that platelets are responsible for helping the blood to clot.’
‘So if she doesn’t have enough platelets, she could bleed?’
‘That’s right. That’s why she has more bruising than usual.’
‘And what’s caused it?’
‘It’s an autoimmune disease. In other words, your body attacks itself—in this case it attacks the platelets. As to what causes it—most of the experts think that in children it’s caused by a viral infection.’
‘But there’s no treatment? You’re not going to do anything?’
‘Treatment isn’t always necessary, particularly in children. They tend to recover completely in a couple of months without any intervention.’
‘But what if she has problems?’
Ethan reached for a pen and scribbled something on a pad. ‘This is my number.’ He handed the paper to Mary. ‘If you can’t get me in surgery, feel free to call me on that number if you have any worries. We will be checking Shelley’s blood regularly to see if the platelet count is recovering.’
Kyla nodded her approval. He may be dressed in a suit and look unapproachable, but he was making himself accessible to worried patients and they didn’t seem to find him intimidating.
Mary folded the paper and put it carefully in her handbag. ‘And does she need to stop doing sport or anything? She loves her netball and they’re playing loads of matches at school at the moment.’
