through her chest.
‘I don’t want to leave her.’ The boy’s voice cracked with emotion he was desperately trying to keep in check.
‘Brett,’ Marcus said calmly, ‘we have everything under control here.’ He gave a reassuring smile. ‘You can be a bigger help by greeting the ambulance and guiding them to us.’
Brett nodded miserably and left reluctantly.
‘Stand clear,’ Madeline announced as they both shuffled back ensuring there was no contact between them and the patient.
Satisfied they were both clear, Madeline hit the green deliver shock button and they both watched as the patient’s chest bucked with the electricity.
The machine told them to wait as it reanalysed.
‘We need IV access,’ she said, her arms beginning to ache from performing the compressions.
‘Shock not recommended,’ the defib pronounced.
‘Intubation gear, too,’ he added, as he resumed his position at Mrs. Sanders’s head.
‘What? No eye of toad or wing of bat, Dr Hunt? No magic wand?’ she taunted unreasonably as she pressed down on the centre of the chest again.
It was bitchy and uncalled for, given his willingness to help after she had called him a quack, but she was annoyed that even in the midst of a medical emergency, his unbuttoned shirt and bare chest were disturbingly distracting.
How could she be thinking about his body at such a time?
‘Too late for that now, Maddy,’ he stated, his lips tight.
Her gibe might have been amusing at another time but Marcus was also struggling with his own distractions. Like how her skirt had ridden up, exposing a generous length of thigh, and the way the silk of her blouse pulled taut and slid seductively over pert breasts.
There was a time and a place. This was definitely not it!
Madeline heard the sirens wailing somewhere close by and breathed a sigh of relief. Locked in this battle with Marcus to save Mrs. Sanders’s life seemed deeply intimate and she was pleased that other health-care professionals would soon join them and break the connection.
The two ambulance officers were there within the minute and Madeline explained what she knew and the four of them worked together. One of the ambulance team worked on intravenous access while Madeline and Marcus continued CPR. The other drew up first-line drugs.
‘We need to intubate,’ said Marcus when the machine recommended no shock again.
The officer handed him a laryngoscope and Marcus inserted the cold heavy metal into the patient’s mouth as he manoeuvred her head with his other hand. The light on the instrument shone down her throat and Marcus angled it around slightly until he could visualise the white vocal cords.
‘Size eight endotracheal tube, please.’
Skilfully, Marcus inserted the plastic airway into the trachea and removed the mask from the bag-mask apparatus, connecting the bag to the top of the tube and squeezing oxygenated air into the lungs as the paramedic tied the tube in place.
The machine analysed again and everyone moved back as it recommended a shock and Madeline pushed the green button one more time. They moved back in and Marcus felt for a pulse.
‘Got one,’ he said.
There was no time for congratulations. ‘Let’s load her and go,’ said the paramedic who had established the intravenous access. They swapped the defib over for the more complex machine in the ambulance with a full-screen cardiac monitor attached, and Madeline helped load their patient onto the trolley as Marcus continued to administer breaths.
Madeline noted the tachycardia, relieved that they had got Mrs. Sanders back, but she was having runs of VT and she knew that the patient’s condition was still critical and unstable. They had her ready for transport quickly and Madeline put her arm around Brett who was silent and pale, obviously shocked by everything that had just happened.
‘Come on, son,’ Marcus said gently, passing over the bag to the paramedic. ‘You can ride up front.’ Brett nodded absently, following his stretchered mother like a zombie.
‘I’d like to ride in the back with her — is that all right?’ Madeline asked the paramedics, who gave her a nod. If she arrested again, another pair of hands would be helpful.
‘I’ll follow in my car,’ said Marcus.
She turned to face him and took an abrupt step back, not realising how close behind her he was.
‘There’s no need,’ Madeline said, trying not to sound ungrateful. After all, she couldn’t have done it without him.
Now the immediate emergency was over, the ebb of the adrenaline that had surged through her system was making her nauseous. Combined with her jet lag, she was shaking badly.
He put his hands gently on her shoulders and frowned at their trembling. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked, applying slight pressure to her shoulders.
Madeline looked into his face then wished she hadn’t. She felt absurdly close to tears. She didn’t want this man to be kind to her. She wanted him and the unsettling feelings she felt when she was near him to go away.
‘I’m fine.’ She shrugged her shoulders and his hands fell away.
Marcus lifted his hand and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, which had loosened from the tight knot at the nape of her neck. Madeline pulled back as the urge to lay her head against his chest took hold.
‘Dr Harrington,’ one of the paramedics called.
‘Coming,’ she replied, and stepped away from Marcus on shaky legs.
Prognosis Incompatible releases 8th Sept 2020. You can preorder/purchase HERE
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About the Author
Amy is an award-winning, USA Today best-selling, triple RITA nominated, Aussie author who has written seventy plus contemporary romances in both the traditional and digital markets. Her books bring all the feels from sass, quirk and laughter to emotional grit and panty-melting heat. At sixteen she met a guy she knew she was going to marry and several years later she did. She loves good books and great booze although she'll take mediocre booze if there's nothing else. For many, many years she was a registered nurse which means she knows things. Anatomical things. And she's not afraid to use them! She resides in a small seaside town in a house that overlooks the ocean and looks foreward to happy hour on her deck every single day.
Read more at Amy Andrews’s site.