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He glanced around. ‘In a hospital as large as this?’
‘Especially in this hospital.’ She followed his gaze. Tried not to look at Evie and Finn. ‘I hate gossip. It lives and breathes other people’s business. And here I am with the handsome Italian doctor who has operated on my daughter. I’m never seen with anyone.’
‘At least you notice something about me.’
‘You’re a bit hard to miss.’
He looked around. ‘I too despise gossip.’ The memories tasted bitter in his mouth.
Emily heard the underlying resentment and wondered where that had come from. The waitress arrived as soon as they’d picked up the menu and Emily put it down again and smiled at the girl. ‘We’ve only twenty minutes. Should we order food?’
‘Sure. Promise I’ll be quick. What would you like?’
She looked at Marco. ‘Scones and cream?’
Marco smiled at the young girl and she blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. ‘One hot chocolate, one coffee black, and two scones and cream. Per favore.’ The girl nodded and sped off.
Well, that was that. She studied his face. He didn’t look tired. So maybe he really did manage on four hours’ sleep. She was beginning to droop. She stifled a yawn. ‘So tell me how it went.’
‘Very well. No complications. A simple scope and shunt away from the narrowed opening into the bladder. Initial ultrasound shows good drainage into the bladder already.’
‘Do you think my granddaughter’s kidneys will be very damaged?’
His face softened and he reached across to touch her hand. Just that one stroke made her feel better. Comforted. His hand moved back. ‘This I cannot tell. We will hope not.’
What did she expect? How could he know that? She just wanted reassurance but wisely he had promised nothing he couldn’t give. Still, she appreciated his empathy. He was a kind man.
The hot drinks and scones arrived and they both smiled at the waitress. ‘So quick. Grazie.’
‘Wow.’ Emily too was impressed. ‘Thank you.’ The girl grinned and hurried off and almost bumped into Finn, who stood suddenly from his chair, almost knocking it over.
He growled something at their waitress and shook off Evie’s hand before he stormed towards the door. Evie’s face looked white and drawn and Emily looked away. Maybe she could catch up with Evie later. Check she was okay. There was no doubt she was in love with the man who had just left her and Emily felt her heart go out to the younger woman. She’d picked a hard road there.
‘It seems our surgical chief is not happy.’ Marco too had seen.
She refocussed on the man beside her. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Finn. We met in the States a few years ago. Got on well.’
Of course Marco would know him. They were both surgeons. She spread cream on the scone and then dropped a dollop of jam in the middle. ‘Evie’s tough. If anyone can bounce back from Finn’s ill humour, Evie can.’
‘And who is she?’
‘A medical officer here, a darned good one, but she’s more than that. Her father’s the hospital’s main benefactor, and the reason Sydney Harbour has so many ground-breaking programs.’
‘Lockheart?’
‘Yes. If rumour is to be believed, she and Finn have an on-again, off-again relationship that sometimes rattles the windows around here. But if I needed medical help, either of them would do fine by me.’
And you would do fine by me, he thought, and the premonition that this woman could rock his stable skim-the-surface world seeped into his bones with a wary premonition. ‘I realise you have a lot on your mind but have you thought about dinner this evening?’
‘No.’ Not much anyway. ‘I really can’t think of anything until after I see Annie.’
‘Of course. Forgive me.’ He was not usually this impatient.
They sipped their drinks and the silence became a little strained. She broke it. ‘So how long are you here? At Sydney Harbour?’
‘A month. Then I fly out to the US for a consultancy in New York. Last month it was London.’
She sipped her cocoa and the heat seeped into her cold edges. His life sounded a little on the cool side too.
Suddenly she wasn’t hungry. ‘It sounds a glamorous life.’ The creamy scone stared back at her. Like a red eye. She bet she had red eyes. Why on earth had this man asked her to breakfast? Kindness. That was all. Now she just needed to accept the favour and move on.
‘Si. Glamorous.’ He picked up his coffee and took a sip.
‘So where is home?’ At his frown she tried again. ‘Your family.’
His expression didn’t change but she felt stillness come over him. And the temperature dropped another two degrees. So he didn’t like questions. ‘I have no family. I rent when I need. Mostly I work.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’ She glanced at her watch and took another sip of her cocoa. ‘I might see if Annie is back.’
He’d been abrupt. Closed her out like he always did when people asked about his family. No wonder she wanted to leave. What did he expect to happen? He never answered questions about himself. He’d learnt at a very young age when the police were eager for any news of his father. When neighbours had shunned his family as soon as they’d realised who they were.
But this woman would never do that. The voice came from nowhere. Just a whisper, like she’d whispered yesterday to his thoughts, and he closed his ears.
‘I apologise.’ He glanced down at her uneaten scone. ‘Your food.’
‘I’m not really hungry.’ She yawned. ‘Excuse me.’ He wanted to pick her up and carry her to a big feather bed and tuck her in to sleep. Or not to sleep.
He glanced around for the waitress and managed to catch her eye. She nodded and started their way.
‘We will go. See if Annie is back on the ward and then you must go home to bed.’ There was that thought again. Emily in bed. He dragged his mind away from her golden bob of hair lying next to his on the pillow.
She dug into her bag for her wallet and he shook his head. ‘Please. Allow me.’ He laid a note on the table and stood up to help pull out her chair. The waitress arrived and he smiled and gestured with his hand that she keep the change.
Emily stood and he followed her out of the kiosk back towards the wards. He wanted to ask if she would come with him tonight but he would not ask again. Perhaps after she’d seen her daughter he would know.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_286d4427-326e-50d7-ad03-3eeec18cd40d)
‘HI, MA,’ Annie whispered sleepily. ‘They said my baby’s fine.’ She lay in a twin-bed room and the other stood turned back, waiting for June to return to the ward. ‘I’m gonna call her Rosebud.’
Emily ached with the thick swell of love in her throat. At the moment her daughter could call her daughter Medusa and she wouldn’t mind. She was just glad Annie and her baby were okay. It was hard to realise her own baby was growing up. She didn’t want to think about the time when she left her completely. And her little gnome granddaughter was safe from further harm too. ‘That’s wonderful, darling.’ She squeezed the pale fingers on the sheet and stared mistily down at her daughter.
‘It all went very well, Annie.’ Marco’s deep voice rumbled in her ear and his presence felt like a man they’d known a lot longer than twenty-four hours.
Emily stepped back to think about that, but he must have stepped forward at the same time.
His hands came up to rest on her shoulders and her shoulders fitted snugly up against a wall of chest she’d only dreamed about. It felt too good to move but Emily’s attention flew to her daughter. Thankfully Annie’s long lashes rested on her pale cheeks as she drifted in a post-anaesthetic haze and she couldn’t see her mother’s weakness.
From the pillow Annie’s eyelids didn’t flicker as her voice faded away. ‘Thank you, Marco.’ In her semi-doze Annie’s palm slid across the sheet to protect the small mound of her stomach and Emily let herself relax for a moment.
Just enjoy the sensation of being held.
Take the comfort he was no doubt offering. She hadn’t had a lot of that lately. Especially since Gran had died.
But this was different from Gran’s gentle love. This was a virulent, protector of a man saying he was there for her, if only for the duration of her daughter’s recovery, and she’d be a fool to not accept it for what it was. She didn’t want to think about how some women had this twenty-four seven. It felt too damn good.
But it wasn’t reality. She stepped away. ‘I’ll visit this afternoon, darling.’
Annie opened her eyes. ‘Um. No. Don’t. I’m just gonna sleep. See me tomorrow, Mum. Have a rest.’
Emily winced. ‘If that’s what you want.’ She chewed her lip. ‘You sure? I’ll have my phone. Just leave a message on my phone and I’ll come in.’
Annie nodded sleepily. ‘Tomorrow. Love you.’
‘Love you, baby.’ She hesitated. Watched her daughter sink into a heavier sleep.
Marco steered her towards the door. ‘Come.’
She flicked a glance at him and he grinned. ‘I do not know another word. Leave does not seem to work the same.’
She smiled back. ‘Come is fine.’
‘Then—’ he deepened his voice to a tease ‘—come.’ They grinned at each other. ‘She looks well, your Annie, and we can hope not too much damage is done. But for now, sleepyhead, are you going to go home to worry?’
‘No. I don’t think I will.’ She’d try not to and think about leaning back into Marco’s arms. ‘I think I’ll sleep well.’
‘Good.’
Then she thought of tonight, of the empty house. Of waking this afternoon after the four hours’ sleep she never seemed to be able to improve on, and wondering what it would have been like to go out with this handsome man, do something that would take her mind off the worry. Or she could sit at home and think about Annie. And maybe one day she could go on a dinner cruise on Sydney harbour on her own.
‘I’m wondering …’ She hesitated but he’d stopped and his attention was fully on her. ‘Um. Dinner. What time?’
She had to guess he hadn’t found anyone between hot chocolate and now.
So that was how she came to be dressed, waiting, scanning herself in the mirror. Wondering if the top was too old, should she wear a scarf? Could she still walk in high heels—it had been so long!
The doorbell drilled her like a cold knife and she glared at the mirror. Nerves. She was a big girl, dump the nerves, put on the smile and let the man take you out. You know you fancy him and he’s only here for a month.
This would be good practice for the time when Annie left for her own life. He’d said he’d pick her up so he had a car, must have hired one if he was only here for a month. She kept coming back to that. Just a month. Too short to lose her heart. She hoped.
She peeked out from behind the lace curtain. She hadn’t expected an Aston Martin. Or the open-necked black shirt. He was standing at the door. Looking around. Waiting for her to answer, and she was watching him with nerves flapping like pelicans in her belly.
Marco breathed in. Was unexpectedly aware of the late afternoon light, as if he should remember this moment. The slosh of waves and chug of boats on the harbour a few houses away. The tang of salt and seaweed.
The drift of voices from homes close to Emily’s. People who saw this woman every day. Probably had for years. How could she still be alone? How had some man not scooped her up and carried her and her daughter off?
When would she answer this door? He checked the number again just as the door opened.
His breath was expelled in a sigh. A woman with such style. ‘Bellísima.’ Every time he saw her she captured more of his attention. Appeared more exquisite.
‘Thank you. Come through.’ She gestured to the quaint sitting area with the carved wooden archway between the rooms.
Emily smoothed her coral skirt, willing the heat in her cheeks to subside as she invited him in. He looked pretty hot himself in immaculate black trousers and a silk shirt that screamed Italian tailor.
If he only knew. She didn’t spend money on clothes. Only the occasional piece of underwear she still felt guilty about and hid from her daughter. Gran’s skirt and antique lace blouse, even her lovely silver dancing shoes were sixty years old but fitted perfectly. She’d always been Gran’s size since she’d had Annie.
Sixteen years the same size. Except for the last few months when the one loving person in her life had faded away to a wisp of her former self.
‘The boat leaves at six. Forgive me if I rush you but it is to catch the sunset on the water.’
Not the time for sad memories.
Tonight she would embrace life and a handsome man.
She’d forgotten how good it felt to dress up and see her escort light up when he saw her. See his eyes smoulder, sweep over her, want her. Not that she was thinking that. But sixteen years was too long between attempted seductions so it would be nice to see if she still had feminine wiles.
He was waiting. ‘I’ll just get my purse.’ She leant past him to the hall table and picked up her filmy wrap as well as her tiny clutch. ‘A night on the harbour is worth the rush.’
He stepped forward and took the wrap from her hands. ‘Allow me,’he said, and spread the floating silk over her shoulders. She tried not to shiver with the sensation. ‘My car is downstairs.’ She focussed on transport—much safer.
‘Is it worth having a car when you work such long hours?’ She was still gabbling as she pulled the door shut after him.
‘Si.’ He waited for her to precede him down the steps and she could feel his presence solid behind her. It felt strange, to say the least. She felt strange. Like a teen. She really did need to get out more.
‘I have rented an apartment across the bay near the clown’s face and I am often called in.’
‘Of course.’ Not tonight, she hoped.
‘Not tonight, though.’
She smiled as he answered her thought and glanced towards the harbour. Imagining the bright mouth of the amusement-park entrance. ‘So you’re near Luna Park. Do you look down on it? Can you hear the children screaming on the rides?’
Gran used to take her and Annie. For a few years it had been sadly neglected but she’d heard it had been renovated and new life breathed into the attractions.
‘A little. It makes me smile. But my windows face mainly across the harbour and the bridge. The view is as good as anywhere I have travelled.’
‘You could have caught the ferry from Milson’s Point to me here. Just get off at Balmain East.’
‘Si. Perhaps another day. But tonight I prefer the privacy of my own vehicle.’
He unlocked the car and waited for her to sit with her skirt straightened before he closed the door. Within seconds he was slipping in beside her and suddenly the car shrank to a tiny womb of warm air imbued with a faint tang of his aftershave.
She was really here. In a car with a gorgeous Italian man intent on sharing the evening with her. He’d said he only wanted her company. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out with a man and felt like this.
Gran and her knitting buddies had nudged her into a movie or two with men she’d met but each time they’d withdrawn when they’d realised how much time she needed to spend with Annie.
He gestured to the houses and trees around her home. ‘You must love living here.’
