Loving Ali by Shånnon Marie (heaven official's blessing novel english TXT) 📖

she grinned, running in and grabbing me up in a massive bear hug.
I laughed, and hugged her back. "Did you behave while I was gone?" I teased.
"Never!" she giggled.
"Ask her about the biker that came in yesterday," Rico wiggled his eyebrows.
"Oh?"
She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well, a stodgy ol' motorcycle rider came in yesterday trying to claim that an accident he'd just been in was a result of a faulty surgery we'd performed on him almost 9 years ago!"
"Was it?"
"Of course not!" she snorted indignantly, picking up her clipboard and checking her patient list. "The only surgery we ever gave him was to fix his crooked nose after a fistfight! But he had insisted we'd caused damage to his head in the process, thus impairing his driving abilities, and causing the accident."
"Was he injured?"
"Not a bloody scrape! I tell you, Claire, the man was off his rocker! He was just hoping he could get enough money out of us to pay for damages to his bloody bike!"
"So, what'd you do?" I poured myself a cup of steaming coffee and blew on it.
"I took up my scalpel and told him I would

cause damage to his head if he didn't bloody well get out of my sight!"
I laughed. "There has to be a law somewhere that makes it illegal for hospital staff to threaten patients with surgical tools, Leslie."
"Well, Congress can take their laws and shove it up their-"
"Leslie?" interrupted Banks, another doctor here. "Benson's heart stopped."
"Oh, hell!" Leslie ran down the hallway to a patient's room.
I sighed, and checked my list. First was Tony Donatello, who apparently had developed a nasty infection after cutting his arm on a rusty fence. We were monitoring the infection in case it seeped up towards his heart, in which case we'd have to perform an immediate amputation.
I went into Tony's room, where a woman- I guessed she was his wife- sat at his bedside. She was in tears, and they were talking in Italian.
I cleared my throat, and they turned to look at me. "Hello, Mr. Donatello. How are we doing today?"
Tony frowned and glanced at his wife, who said something in Italian. Then, she faced me. "My husband, he no...um...speak English long time. And I speak very little the language of you."
"Ah," I bit my lip. Where was Rico when you needed him? Besides Spanish and English, his native languages, Rico also spoke French, Italian, and German fluently.
"Please, you no take the arm of my husband?" the woman's lip trembled. "He work, but no can work without arm. Money, we have little, and-a two small bambinos

..." she cut off and began sobbing.
"There, there," came Rico's deep, soothing voice. He then proceeded to speak in Italian while I stood by awkwardly.
"God, I've never been so happy to see you in my life!" I laughed nervously after we left the room.
"I don't know why they assigned you his room," Rico shrugged. "It's a good thing my first patient got discharged, or I wouldn't have been able to rescue you. By the way, next week we're getting a new intern!"
"Really?" I frowned. "We haven't done that in ages. Remember the trouble the last intern caused in the ER?"
"Don't worry, they won't leave an at-risk patient in the hands of an intern this time, I'll make sure of it."
"So, who is he interning with?"
"Leslie in the mornings, but she was hoping you could handle him in the afternoons?"
I sighed. "They always dump everything on me," I said with mock despair.
"That's because we know you can handle it," he grinned and slugged me playfully on the shoulder.
"Alright, alright, I'll do it."
"Atta girl! Join me for lunch later?"
"Of course! See you then!"


I heaved a deep sigh and sank down into the warm paradise that was my bathtub. Within a few minutes, I was in that state halfway between dreamworld and reality. After soaking for nearly 2 hours, I forced my tired muscles up out of the tub and downstairs where Nora was cooking something that smelled like heaven.
"Ummm, thank you Nora," I smiled at her.
"Have a long day at work?"
I nodded, and took a sip of wine. "Yeah, stressful. Just like every other day."
"So why do you do it? Seeing so many sick and dying people, I mean. I would commit suicide or something after even two days of that!"
"Yeah, it's a hard life. But someone's gotta do it. Plus, any depressing situation I come across is more than cancelled out by the rewarding joy that comes from saving someone's child or curing cancer. Not to mention the pay and benefits are fantastic!" I said with a wink.
Nora smiled back. "I would imagine so."
We finished eating, and I told Nora to take the rest of the night off. Then, I went up to my room, lit a fire in the fireplace and snuggled into my warm for a movie and cup of cocoa.
"What should I watch?" I murmured to myself, scanning through the channels. God, how I hated spending nights to. I didn't used to, back when Mark and I had dated, but he was a no good scumbag. So here I was, staying in on a perfectly beautiful Friday winter night. For a moment, my thoughts turned to Ali, but I just as soon shoved them from my mind. Nothing could or would ever happen between the two of us. I wanted a husband, and all he wanted were orgasms. I gave a small laugh, then heaved a sigh and shut off the TV. I picked up my phone and dialed Leslie's number.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Leslie! It's Claire."
"Oh, hi Claire! Listen, I'm out with Michael right now, could I call you back later?"
"It's okay, don't bother. Just wanted to see how you were doing."
"I'm doing great, thanks. See you Monday?"
"Yeah," I said. "Goodnight."
Unable to think of anything else to do, I turned the lights off and settled down and tried to sleep. God, how I hated spending nights alone.


"Good morning!" Leslie sent a grin my way. "Did you make it okay over the weekend?"
"Yup!" I nodded. "Did you guys manage alright without me?"
"Yeah," she smiled. "Our intern's here," she gestured to a geeky looking boy who sniffed and shoved his large glasses back up his nose. "Say hello to Jermaine."
"Hi, Jermaine," I waved. "I'm Claire. I'll be working with you during afternoons."
He nodded. "Excellent," he sniffed again. "I am greatly honoured that you would believe me qualified to work alongside professionals such as yourselves."
I raised my eyebrows at Leslie, who shrugged. "Smart kid," was all she said. "Come on, Jermaine, we have to go-"
"Leslie! Claire!" Rico and one of the nurses came running towards us, followed by two other doctors pushing a man on a wheeled stretcher. The man was crying out in pain.
"What happened?!" I demanded, peering at the man as he was rushed past into an emergency care room.
"Car accident!" Rico called over his shoulder at me. "Come with us! Leslie, just stick to your usual rounds."
I followed after them, bracing myself for another depressing accident, and heaved a sigh of relief when his injuries turned out to be only minor. After a few X-rays to make sure there was no internal damage, we sent him down to the general hospital floor for monitoring.
I followed through my usual rounds, and then went on break. I grabbed a sandwich and sat down to watch the news. A story about hurricane relief down in Alabama was showing, when a sudden news flash interrupted it.
"This just in," said the reporter. "The Tone-Rite Fitness Centre downtown was bombed by an unknown attacker. The exact number of injuries is unknown, but one of the owners, Saudi Arabian prince Ali Abdul-Aziz, is nowhere to be found. The bombing is suspected to be a political message of disapproval towards Mr. Aziz's grandfather, the King, who recently passed a law..."
I snapped off the television, and rushed out into the lobby. "Guys, get ready for a lot of oncoming patients! The fitness centre was just bombed!"
Rico cursed under his breath, then began shouting orders. "Jermaine, please head into the break room. Send any staff members currently in there to report to me, and then stay there! Everyone, stay on hand and follow all my orders exactly and without hesitation. I also authorise Leslie and Claire to make decisions should I be unavailable. It's gonna be chaos around here for a while!"
"Claire?" Came a voice, and I spun around. Ali stood there, bruised and bloody, holding a limp figure in his arms. "Please help him!"
"Branson, take care of the unconscious man!" Rico ordered. "Claire, whoever the hell he is, take care of him since he seems to know you."
I nodded, and led Ali over to an examination room, closing the door behind us. "What the fuck is going on?!" I demanded, grabbing his arm. It was bleeding profusely, and worrying me. He also had a nasty cut right over his eye, a bloody lip, and multiple bruises and scrapes all over his face.
"Ow!" Ali yelled, pulling his arm back. "Easy, Doc!"
"Sit down," I pointed to the examination table, and he obeyed. "Now take off your shirt, I need to check for any serious injury."
He nodded, and cast his shirt aside. I winced at all the massive bruising on his chest. "Did the building fall on you or something?"
"Or something," Ali grimaced as I poured antiseptic into his arm wound and bandaged it.
"Why the hell did you trek over here in this state? Let alone carrying another man!" I cleaned the cut above his eye.
"Habit," he shrugged. I gave him a questioning look. "I fought for a while in Iraq. Being a hero in time of trouble became almost instinct."
I shook my head. "Just because your muscles are strong doesn't mean your body won't fail you! There's a difference between bravery and stupidity, Ali. Take it easy. You seem okay for now, but we're going to keep you overnight for monitoring."
"Should I keep my shirt off for the monitoring?" he grinned slyly. "I know you'd like that."
I groaned and gave him a light shove. He grabbed my arms, pulled me into his lap, and kissed me soundly. "How ya been, Doc?"
"Busy," I said, struggling to pull away. "I've got patients that need me, you ass."
"I need you, Claire. And it's cute that we've already gotten to the playful name calling stage," he added with a wink.
"I thought you didn't do relationships," I said, finally breaking free.
"I don't," he yawned. He attempted to stand, then suddenly cried out and collapsed.
"Ali!" I shrieked, and dropped to my knees next to him. "Are you alright?!"
He looked up at me with a pained look on his face, clutching his hip. "Stuff fell on my leg during the explosion," he said through gritted teeth, "but in my adrenaline rush, I yanked it free. It feels like a torn muscle."
I nodded, trusting his assessment as a professional athletic trainer. "Let's get you on a stretcher," I said, and called for one. We got him in for a cat scan, and he did, indeed, have a torn muscle in his hip.
"It should repair itself as long as we keep an eye on him and he takes it easy, but our rooms are pretty full for now," said Rico after we situated Ali in a room. "He needs observation, but I don't know how long we'll have room for him." He gestured to the long line of emergency victims. "We might have to ship him down to St.