Billionaire Doctor (House of Kolovsky) - Carol Marinelli Page 0,3

your eyes for me?’ She watched as he struggled to do just that then thought better of it. ‘Mickey, open your eyes, please, and tell me where you are.’

‘Bloody hospital,’ he growled, bloodshot eyes peeking open as Annie turned on the automatic blood pressure monitor and checked his obs. ‘Now, would you let me get some rest?’

‘You know I can’t do that, Mickey.’ Annie smiled wryly, shining a torch in his eyes to check that his pupils were equal and responsive to light. ‘Now squeeze my hands for me. Come on, squeeze them hard,’ she insisted as Mickey reluctantly did as he was told. Clearly more than used to the drill, he lifted his legs in turn without being prompted as Annie checked off the boxes in her observation chart.

‘Now can I rest?’

‘For now,’ Annie answered. ‘Though I’ll be back shortly to set up for the doctor to come in and suture you.’

‘Any chance of something to eat, Annie?’ Mickey asked, his eyes still closed. Annie couldn’t help but smile. Mickey was one of their occasional regulars, coming in off the streets every few months. As well as getting his scalp sutured or his ulcers dressed or whatever it was that brought him in, he’d usually get a good feed and a much-needed bath and change of clothes before he went on his merry way. And though he hadn’t been in for a few months now, that he remembered her name from last time brought an unseen smile to Annie’s face.

‘A lunch has been ordered for you—it should be here soon. After that we’ll get you a bath—’

‘I don’t want a bath,’ he snapped, rolling on his side. ‘I just want something to eat.’

‘Sure.’ Annie nodded, but she gave a little unnoticed frown. Mickey was hiding something, but till he’d sobered up and was a bit more co-operative there really wasn’t much that could be done about it. ‘You rest up till lunch comes and whatever you do, don’t get off the trolley. If you need anything at all, just press the call bell.’ Her hand was up, about to swish the curtain right back so Mickey could be easily watched, when suddenly it was pulled back, making Annie jump—and not just at the motion. Never had a curtain opened on such a stunning cocktail of sensations.

The breeze of the curtain was heavily laced with the most potent male scent and close up Iosef was even more divine. ‘How is he?’

Annie wasn’t exactly short, but he towered over her. Even allowing for his rather more senior status, he was superbly dressed. Black trousers sat low on his slender hips, a thick white cotton shirt with a thread count that was surely in the millions set off a stunning gunmetal grey tie that almost exactly matched his eyes. Though Annie barely got a glimpse of them as he strode past her and proceeded to take the manual blood-pressure cuff from the wall and wrap it around a grumbling Mickey’s arm.

‘Fine. I’ve just done his obs,’ Annie said, picking up the chart and offering it to him as he pulled on his stethoscope. ‘His blood pressure’s—’

‘Shh...’

OK, a lot of people shushed others when they were concentrating—no doubt, she did it herself several times a day when she was trying to pick up a difficult blood pressure or listening to a chest—but it was more the way he’d shushed her that had Annie’s teeth grinding, the dismissive shake of his head, the brief wave of his free hand as he shooed the obs chart away that had her bristling.

‘Good!’ he said, more to himself than her, taking off his stethoscope and wrapping it round his neck before pinching Mickey’s ear none too gently. ‘Afternoon, sir,’ he called, and the old boy rolled over and requested, not too politely, that the doctor please just leave him alone. Annie spoke up again.

‘I’ve just done his neuro obs.’

‘Good.’ He nodded, again completely ignoring the proffered chart, his findings clearly just to satisfy himself. ‘Once I’ve sutured him, I want him moved to the observation ward.’

‘I thought George was going to suture him.’

‘He’s my patient!’ Iosef shrugged.

‘Yes, but... ’ Annie started, unsure why a senior reg would choose to do the rather menial task—not that he was listening. Instead he was picking up the file and heading out through the curtains. ‘Well, there’s no rush, whoever stitches him. The obs ward is closed till six,’ Annie called to his departing back. ‘Jackie wants—’

‘Jackie wants the beds used