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Beth moaned, interrupting the sudden tension. The moan turned into a full-throated roar as her birth canal stretched unbearably to accommodate the baby’s head. Rilla talked calmly over the top of her.
‘OK, Bethy, just pant now. The head’s crowning. Pant through it,’ Rilla instructed.
‘I … can’t,’ Beth yelled.
Rilla knew that the urge to expel the baby was now a biological imperative and that all women got to a point where they felt defeated.
‘Yes, you can,’ Rilla and Luca chorused, then glanced at each other, startled by their synchronicity.
‘Like this.’ Luca demonstrated through the ruckus Beth was kicking up. He panted like a shaggy dog in a heat wave.
Rilla felt a spike of insane jealousy as Luca coaxed Beth through the last gruelling part of the birth. This was the Luca she knew. The Luca she’d loved. The consummate professional whose rapport with people was legendary.
Was this how he would have been had she carried their baby to term? Would he have held her hand and panted with her and looked at her like she was performing the most amazing miracle on earth?
The irony of the situation smacked her in the face. Kneeling on the ground, witnessing the wonder of new life, had brought all their old problems into sharp focus. Her sister was giving birth. The thing she hadn’t managed to do and in not doing so had driven a wedge so deeply between them they hadn’t been able to find a way back to each other.
Beth cried out and Rilla murmured words of encouragement. She looked at Luca’s downcast head. This could have been her, here with Luca.
The constant emptiness that gnawed away at her womb returned with ferocious intent. She’d give anything to be in Beth’s position now, an attentive Luca by her side, about to hold his baby in her arms.
She’d felt the loss of their baby so acutely the past couple of years, more so during her sister’s pregnancy. And being here with Beth, sharing this experience with Luca, was so bitter-sweet she wanted to cry.
‘OK, here she comes,’ Rilla announced, keeping her hand against the baby’s head as it inexorably eased out. ‘Nearly there, Beth,’ she encouraged. ‘Keep panting.’
‘This is it,’ Luca agreed, dropping a kiss on Beth’s brow and rubbing his hands up and down her arms.
The action distracted Rilla and her gaze was drawn to his wedding band still firmly in place. She blinked. He still wore it? After all this time? She’d have bet money on him removing it as soon as he’d left the country. Maybe she wasn’t the only sentimental fool?
Beth cried out and Rilla returned her attention to the situation. Seconds later her niece’s head slowly emerged into Rilla’s waiting hands.
‘You did it, you did it.’ Rilla beamed as she automatically inserted her fingers to check for the cord, her skills more innate than she’d realised.
‘Oh God, is it over?’ Beth panted, collapsing hard against Luca.
‘Just the shoulders now,’ Rilla assured her as her fingers found the one thing she didn’t want to—thick, slippery rope wrapped around the baby’s neck.
‘Oh, no,’ she whispered, lifting her gaze to Luca’s.
Luca saw the streak of fear flash like lightning through the tawny embers of her eyes. ‘What?’
Rilla’s pulse slowed and then stopped before stuttering to life in a frantic rhythm. ‘The cord …’ Every scrap of medical knowledge she’d ever learned seeped from her brain as blind panic took hold. Her niece had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck.
Wrapped around her neck. Around her neck.
A thousand worst-case scenarios stomped through her mind like a pack of rampaging rhinos. Luckily Beth was completely oblivious, still caught up in post-head delivery euphoria. She looked at Luca, her mind chaotic.
‘It’s OK, Rilla.’ Luca smiled at her, his gaze brimming with confidence. ‘Just pull it over the head. You’ll be fine.’
Rilla stared at him, his calm gaze slicing through the escalating horror. He nodded at her and she pulled herself back from the tight grasp of panic and nodded back.
‘What’s happening?’ Beth asked. ‘Why do I still have half a baby stuck in me?’
Rilla’s hand trembled as she methodically pulled the cord over her niece’s head. Luckily it was only wrapped around once. ‘Nothing,’ she said, and smiled gratefully, mouthing, ‘Thank you,’ to Luca.
Luca inclined his head slightly and smiled back. ‘Give another push now, Beth, and the baby will be out,’ he encouraged.
Rilla felt goose-bumps wash over her and marvelled at how a few calm words from Luca had pulled her back from the edge. As shocking as it was to see him here today, she thanked the fates for sending him. Would she have coped if he hadn’t been here, hadn’t believed in her?
Beth nodded. ‘I hope so,’ she panted, as she braced herself to bear down again.
Rilla caught the body as it slipped out and the little girl didn’t even wait a second to let out an indignant cry, her fists waving in the air. Rilla laughed, relieved after her earlier fright to be holding the annoyed newborn. She passed the baby to an eager Beth.
‘Congratulations.’ Luca smiled, giving the baby a quick surreptitious once-over, performing a mental APGAR score, satisfied after the cord problem to see she was pink, with a very healthy set of lungs. ‘You’ve given birth to a very angry young lady.’
Beth laughed and then burst into tears as her precious, naked, bawling daughter was placed in her arms. ‘Look, Ril, look,’ she cried. ‘Isn’t she the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?’
Rilla nodded, a lump in her throat the size of an iceberg as she hugged Beth and gazed down into the red, scrunched-up, angry face of her niece. ‘She is.’
Luca saw the tears in Rilla’s eyes and was irresistibly drawn to her. Her face was sweaty and her hair was messy and she had a smudge of dirt on her cheek but she was looking at her niece like she was the most precious thing in the entire world and he couldn’t remember a time when she’d looked more beautiful.
It certainly hadn’t been the way he’d imagined he’d meet her again. Of the thousand scenarios that had formed in his head, this hadn’t been one of them. He’d hoped for a much more controlled setting. Somewhere removed from their memories, from their shared past. Hopefully in the politically correct surroundings of work.
This was … wild. Primitive. Full of raw human emotion and as such it was impossible to not feel connected to her and all they had been. He looked down at the still bawling newborn. Beth and Rilla were huddled together, laughing and talking at her. Rilla was stroking the infant’s head.
No. He hadn’t been prepared for this touching, emotionally charged situation.
He’d spent the last seven years buried in his work, trying to forget the mess he’d made with Rilla. Two years back in Italy, licking his wounds, and the next five in London, working his butt off. Losing their baby and their marriage falling apart had hurt so much he’d sworn he was never going to put himself through it again. He wouldn’t allow a vision of Rilla and her niece to derail his purpose after less than an hour.
A distant siren broke his train of thought and he was thankful for the reprieve from memory lane. He hadn’t come back here for her. He’d come back for closure. To prove to himself he was over her. So he could sign the papers and get on with his life.
‘Right. Come on, ladies, let’s get this show on the road.’ The baby seemed perfectly healthy but he knew the hospital would want to check her out very closely due to her prematurity and rather unorthodox arrival. He took his shirt off and held it out so they could wrap the baby in it.
He stood. ‘Rilla, take the baby.’ He didn’t look at her, just waited for Beth to pass the baby over. Then he picked Beth up, bringing the rug with him and effectively cocooning her. ‘Your ambulance awaits,’ he said, grinning down at Beth.
‘You can’t carry me, Luca,’ Beth protested as she hung on to his neck.
‘Of course I can,’ he said cheerfully as he headed towards the ever-louder siren. ‘Hold on. It’s not far now.’
Rilla was given no choice but to follow as her niece was still connected to her mother via the umbilical cord. Luca’s strong naked back and powerful stride bobbed before her with each footfall. His physique was as magnificent as she remembered, and if she hadn’t had to watch her step with her precious cargo, the ripple of the muscles in his broad shoulders would have been completely entrancing.
Her niece squirmed in her arms, demanding attention as if she knew her aunt was distracted. The baby seemed tiny, swallowed up in the folds of Luca’s big shirt, and his fragrance wafted temptingly towards her. Myriad memories involving Luca wearing nothing but his cologne almost caused her to stumble.
Her hands tightened around her niece. This wouldn’t do. Dr Luca Romano had been hers … once. But that had been eight long years ago and she was finally moving on with her life.
Even if his back still looked as good and he still smelled divine and he’d helped deliver her niece. Seven years of silence bred a lot of discontent. And she was never going there again.
CHAPTER TWO
RILLA tried to ignore the betraying flutter of her heart as she waited for the imminent arrival of Dr Luca Romano. It had been ten days since the birth of her niece. Ten days of knowing he was back, of expecting to look over her shoulder and see him. Beth had told her he’d popped in to see the baby every day during their admission, so she knew he’d been at the General. But he’d made no attempt to contact her, which only made this moment even bigger.
The place was abuzz with speculation about the new director of emergency. Few people in the department had been around long enough to remember him from eight years ago. Or, thanks to her insistence she keep her maiden name, to know that once upon a time he and Rilla had been married.
She figured it wouldn’t take long though, the hospital grapevine what it was.
‘You going to be OK, Rilla?’ Julia Woods, the NUM asked, sidling up to her.
Rilla forced a smile to her lips as she carried out the daily task of checking the resus trolley, pleased to have the routine. ‘Of course,’ she dismissed.
‘I’m sorry, he had some admin stuff to attend to so he thought it would be a good opportunity to drop in and meet everyone informally before he started next week. I could hardly say no.’
‘Of course,’ Rilla replied.
‘Have you seen him since he’s been back in the country?’
Rilla shut her eyes briefly, the image of his naked back as he strode along the track with Beth in true hero fashion burnt into her retinas. ‘Yes,’ she said noncommittally, her hand shaking slightly as she checked the light on the laryngoscope. ‘It’ll be fine, Julia. Really.’
Rilla saw the doubt in her boss’s gaze. Julia had known her for a long time. Had gone to their wedding. She knew how hard the separation and the intervening years had been on Rilla.
‘Really,’ Rilla reassured her, giving Julia’s arm a quick squeeze.
An hour later all the nursing staff were summoned to the staffroom to meet the new director. Rilla contemplated not going. It wasn’t like she needed an introduction. And if they’d been busy she would have stayed behind to man the fort, but the post-night duty lull was in full swing and unless a disaster struck, it would probably be another hour before today’s patients start tricking through the doors.
And then there was the message that not going would send. To those who knew their history. And to Luca. It was going to be hard enough working together again without people’s pity. It was time to show everyone, including Luca, that she was over him and moving on with her life.
As far as work was concerned, her baggage with Luca was in the past. Once word got out of their prior relationship they would be watched and speculated over endlessly. Rilla had to start on the right foot. Had to project an it’s-OK, it’s-all-in-the-past, the-divorce-papers-are-out-there, we’ve-moved-on aura. Even if it killed her.
Still, as he entered the staffroom, she wasn’t prepared for the sight of him. On Friday, due to the urgency of the situation, she hadn’t paid much attention to his attire, apart from when he’d been shirtless. But today, dressed in his work clothes, he looked devastatingly handsome. Like the old Luca.
His dark trousers sat low on his hips, the pleats at his waistband pressed perfectly, sitting in a way that emphasised the narrowness of his hips. His crisp navy blue business shirt was luxuriously thick. His zigzag-patterned tie classy.
So much for a casual meet and greet.
She didn’t have to check his clothing labels to know they were Italian, as were his soft black leather shoes. Luca had always dressed with complete and utter class. His wardrobe had had more labels than hers and she had teased him un-mercilessly about it when they had first got together.
But it was about more than the designer quality of his clothes. It was how he wore them. He’d always exuded charisma but now there was supreme confidence. Arrogance, almost. Once she would have put it down to his Italian roots or his noble Latin features, but she wasn’t so sure any more.
There was a distance to his demeanour, a streak of aloofness that moulded his raw sex appeal into something much more mature, more dangerous. And she didn’t think it had anything to do with ancestry. Whatever it was, the combination was powerful. Luca Romano was still a pleasure to watch.
Rilla was pleased to note, though, that there was some evidence of ageing. It hadn’t just been her. At thirty-five his black hair had some grey streaks. It looked more severe too. The length had been tamed. It had once brushed his collar and flopped a little in his eyes. Now it was more closely cropped. But it only succeeded in drawing attention to his amazing fringe of thick sooty lashes.
The few extra lines around his eyes and mouth in no way marred his handsome face. His jaw was just as square, his nose as patrician. He was still tall and lean and most definitely wearing his years well.
Rilla could see the fact was not lost on some of the younger nurses and was surprised by the hot shaft of jealousy that sliced through her. It shouldn’t have. Luca had, after all, always aroused this kind of reaction in women. Once, secure in his love, she’d taken pride in it, knowing he had been hers. Now it was as irritating as hell.
There were ten nursing staff on the morning shift and Julia introduced each one. Luca was his usual charming self. Not hurried. Taking the time to ask each one about themselves, putting everyone at ease, making them laugh. He was a hit.
‘Of course, you know Rilla,’ Julia said as she came to her second-in-charge.
‘Of course,’ Luca said, inclining his head.
They locked gazes for a moment, his accent sliding over her skin, eight years of history thick between them. Rilla felt her cheeks grow warm as Luca’s gaze moved quickly on to the next person, excruciatingly aware of the curious stares of her in-the-know colleagues.
She was pleased to escape ten minutes later after Luca’s brief new-broom speech finished with a my-door-is-always-open assurance. But his gaze was careful not to encompass her and she got the distinct impression she wasn’t included.
By midmorning the lull was well and truly over. In fact, the department had descended into bedlam. Ambulances arrived with frightening regularity, unloading their cargo of car-accident victims, asthmatics and chest pain sufferers, filling the resus bays.
The usual suspects swelled the waiting room out front with a mishmash of legitimate illnesses and minor time-consuming complaints—sore throats, vague pains, migraines, fevers, paper cuts.
The combined noise could have given a crowded theatre before curtain-up a run for its money. Not that Rilla noticed, well used to the low-level chaos that the emergency department became most days. And today, after the unsettling brush with Luca, she was more than grateful for the background hum distracting her from buried memories, newly roused.
Just before lunch the appropriately nicknamed Bat-phone rang. It was red and their direct link to the ambulance control centre. Rilla took the call about the imminent code-one arrival of a ten-day-old baby with apnoea. She replaced the receiver, a sudden chill up her spine as her thoughts instantly turned to her ten-day-old niece.
How worried the parents must be that their baby was having episodes where it stopped breathing. She quickly sorted through the possible causes. A seizure? Maybe caused by a brain infection or cranial trauma from an accidental or non-accidental injury. A respiratory infection? A near cot death?
‘Apnoeic ten-day-old. ETA two minutes,’ Rilla told Henry Bosch, the junior resident, as she entered the resus cubicles to prepare the area.
Henry gave her a startled look and Rilla could see the convulsive bob of his Adam’s apple.
‘Where’s Karen?’ he asked.
Rilla wished the senior reg was there too as she recognised the wail of a distant siren. ‘She’s still up with Julie and the resus team, dealing with the arrest on ward eleven. I’ve paged her. You’re it until then.’ Rilla smiled and injected confidence into her voice.
Please, let this kid be fine by the time it gets here.
There was no more time for wishes as the siren blared louder, announcing its arrival outside. ‘Let’s hustle,’ she said to Henry.
The ambulance doors opened and Rilla’s worst fears were confirmed when she saw the paramedic huddled over a small form, ambu-bag in place over the tiny face.
‘Ten-day-old baby, four weeks prem, three-day history of upper respiratory tract infection, Mum has a cold.’ The paramedic rattled off a brisk, succinct handover, eyes not leaving the baby as his partner slowly pulled the gurney from the car.
Sounds like an RSV picture, Rilla thought. The respiratory virus could affect babies very seriously, making them desperately ill. Especially if there was a history of prematurity.
‘Lethargic and poor feeding today. Mum had babe at the GP when she had a prolonged apnoea, resolving with stimulation. GP called the ambulance. Three further episodes en route, requiring vigorous stimulation and oxygen therapy.’
‘Rilla!’
Rilla turned, startled by the hysterical call, shocked to see Beth getting out of the passenger side of the ambulance.
‘Beth?’ Rilla gasped, looking at her sister’s tear- stained, frantic face. ‘What the …?’ She swivelled her head back to the tiny baby on the gurney, looking small and defenceless on the huge trolley. Bridie? Beth reached her and Rilla enfolded her distraught sister in her arms, her heart hammering madly as her sluggish brain connected the dots. This apnoeic, seriously ill baby was her niece?
‘It’s all my fault,’ Beth sobbed. ‘I gave her my cold. Her lungs are too premature to cope with it. Oh, my God, I don’t want her to die.’
Rilla would have given anything at that moment to be in possession of a magic wand. Anything. Instead, she was it. The only senior nurse they had around until Julia got back from the arrest, and she had only a very junior doctor at her disposal.
Her brain raced as she prioritised. ‘Bridie’s going to be fine, just fine,’ Rilla soothed as she hurried inside, dragging Beth with her, keeping up with the gurney. ‘You know she’s in the best hands here,’ she said, ‘the best.’
Rilla prayed to every god she could think of plus the ones she couldn’t, that she was right. She froze out the sickening worry of an aunt and the more basic pull of sisterhood. She had to remove herself emotionally from her tiny niece, struggling to breathe, and her frantic sister.
