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‘And when has that ever stopped you?’
‘I’ll get into trouble with Mum.’
‘And if you don’t do it, you’ll get into trouble with me,’ Katy informed him sweetly. ‘Take your pick.’
‘I do like bouncing.’ Ben looked at the wide bed with something close to yearning. ‘Come on, then. Just a quick one. How hard do you want me to bounce?’
‘Just hard enough to break it,’ Katy muttered under her breath, slipping off her shoes. ‘I’ll help you. Come on.’ And she leapt into the middle of the bed and started jumping, her dark ponytail flying around her shoulders as she leaped higher and higher.
Ben gave a delighted giggled and climbed up next to her.
‘Come on.’ She grabbed his hands and encouraged him to bounce, too.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Christy and Alessandro were finishing their meal in tense silence when there was an enormous crash above them, followed by a plaintive yell.
‘Oh, no.’ Driven by her maternal instincts, Christy was out of her seat and up the stairs in record time, Alessandro right behind her.
In the bedroom they found Ben sobbing noisily on the carpet and Katy with her arms around him. She looked up when her parents entered. ‘Poor Ben. He bounced on the bed and…’ she gave a baffled shrug, her expression both innocent and mystified ‘… it must have broken or something. Unbelievable, the rubbish they sell you these days.’
‘The bed broke?’ Christy looked at the collapsed bed in horror and disbelief. ‘Oh, my goodness. It looks as though the frame has snapped right through. How did you—?’ And then she saw the blood on Ben’s cheek and dropped to her knees. All the training in the world didn’t prepare you properly for coping when your own child was injured, she thought frantically. ‘You’re bleeding. Alessandro, he’s bleeding.’
‘I see it.’ Calm and steady, Alessandro scooped his son into his arms and swept the aeroplane and Christy’s clothes off the chair so that he could sit down. ‘What’s happened to you?’
‘Katy told me to bounce,’ Ben hiccoughed, his face blotched with crying, ‘so I bounced, but when the bed broke I fell off and banged myself. It hurts.’
‘Where did you bang yourself?’ Alessandro ran strong fingers over the little boy’s arms and legs, hunting for damage—trying to find the source of the bleeding. He found it on the boy’s palm. ‘It’s fine. Just a scratch. He must have run his hand over his cheek. That’s why he has blood on his face.’
Christy stood there, heart thumping, relieved that Alessandro was there. She’d always been a wreck inside when either of the children had been ill or injured. She suddenly realised how much she’d missed his strength.
Still cuddling Ben, Alessandro threw a frowning glance at the bed. ‘That’s well and truly broken. You won’t be sleeping there tonight.’
Christy gave a tiny frown and turned to Katy. ‘I’ll have Ben’s room. Your brother can share with you.’
‘No way!’ Katy shrank back, her face a picture of exaggerated sibling horror. ‘He snores, fidgets and talks in his sleep. No way am I sleeping with a monster baby like him.’
Ben clutched at the front of Alessandro’s shirt and scowled at his sister. ‘I’m not a baby!’
Christy sighed. ‘Katy, there’s no other option.’
‘Yes, there is. If there’s sharing to be done, you can jolly well share with Dad. At least you’re married. I’m not sharing with my brother! That’s totally gross.’ And she stomped out of the room, ponytail swishing like a statement.
Alessandro stared after her with an expression of blatant masculine incomprehension. ‘Is she hormonal?’
Christy rubbed her aching forehead. ‘Hardly. She’s eleven years old.’
‘She’s acting like a teenager.’
‘She’s going through a difficult phase. She’s…’ Her eyes met his and the words tailed off. They both knew that if Katy was going through a difficult stage, it was probably their fault. Christy’s hand fell to her side. ‘On top of everything else, I suppose it isn’t exactly fair for her to have to share with her brother. She is getting to an age where privacy is important,’ she murmured, and Alessandro nodded agreement.
‘You can use our bedroom. I’ll take the sofa downstairs.’
Christy felt the heavy punch of disappointment deep inside her but smiled. ‘That’s very decent of you. Thanks.’
She didn’t care, she told herself. She didn’t care that he obviously couldn’t face the thought of sharing a room with her, let alone a bed. She didn’t care that he’d rather sleep on the sofa than be with her.
Once, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. They’d been like greedy, naughty teenagers seizing every opportunity to rip each other’s clothes off and feast. Now it seemed as if they couldn’t create enough distance.
‘How will Father Christmas come if Daddy’s sleeping downstairs?’ Ben’s anxious voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘We all know that he can’t come if anyone is there to see him.’ The sweet innocence of his question made her heart twist.
‘I… er… He…’ Christy fumbled for an answer that might work, casting a desperate look at Alessandro.
‘I’ll keep my eyes tightly shut for the whole night?’
Ben shook his head, his expression solemn. ‘That won’t work. If you’re awake, he knows.’
‘Well, Daddy’s under a lot of strain at the moment,’ Alessandro growled, ‘so I’m sure I’ll be asleep.’
Was he under strain? He always looked infuriatingly cool and relaxed, Christy mused as she studied his handsome face for clues. Perhaps those dark, brooding eyes were a little more shadowed than usual and the sexy mouth a little more grimly set.
The strain of having her to stay, she thought miserably.
He was only tolerating her because of the children. Everything he did was because of the children.
‘That’s settled, then,’ Christy said brightly. ‘Daddy will sleep on the sofa. Now, let’s get you into bed. It’s getting late.’
She woke early to the sound of clattering and thumping in the kitchen, accompanied by harsh masculine curses. Trying to ignore the fact that she’d had less than four hours’ sleep, she slipped on her dressing-gown and went downstairs to investigate.
Bare-chested and wearing only a pair of old jeans, Alessandro was muttering to himself in Spanish as he smashed his way around the kitchen.
Her Spanish was by no means fluent, but she’d lived with him for long enough to understand that he was in a foul temper.
‘What’s the matter with you?’
Alessandro shot her a stormy look as he made himself a large espresso. ‘It’s morning. I hate mornings. Especially after a night spent in the equivalent of a shoebox.’
She tried not to look at that tempting expanse of muscular chest. He had an incredible physique. Hard. Strong. Male. ‘That sofa was expensive.’
He made a sound that was close to a snarl. ‘Believe me, you’d never guess by sleeping on it. I’m aching in parts of my body that I never even knew I had before now.’
He looked so cross that she felt a smile coming and lifted a hand to her mouth to cover it.
He paused with the cup halfway to his lips, his smouldering gaze hooded. ‘Are you laughing at me?’ He rolled the ‘r’, sounding more and more Spanish as he always did when he was angry.
‘I’m not laughing at you.’
Slowly, he placed the cup back on the work surface, his eyes glittering dark and dangerous as he moved purposefully towards her. ‘Because if you’re laughing at me, querida, you can spend the night on the sofa tonight.’
Her heart started to thump hard against her ribs and she found herself backing away. ‘Alessandro, I wasn’t laughing.’ It was ridiculous that he could still have this effect on her, she told herself firmly. They’d been together for twelve years. It wasn’t possible for a man to make a woman weak at the knees after twelve years. It didn’t happen that way. People became bored with each other. Sex was supposed to become routine and infrequent.
‘You would fit better on the sofa.’ He was right up against her now, and she was right up against the wall. Breathing heavily. ‘You are smaller. More delicate.’
At that particular point in time she didn’t need him to point out their differences. Her eyes were in line with sleek, male muscle and dark body hair. He was pumped up and hard and breathtakingly sexy. There was certainly no missing the differences between them.
‘I’ll sleep on the sofa if that’s what you want.’ Why did he persist in standing so close to her? What was he thinking?
And then she made the mistake of lifting her eyes to his and instantly knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking of sex. She recognised the sudden darkening of his eyes, saw the tiny pulse flicker in his rough jaw. He hadn’t shaved yet and he looked more like a bandit than a senior doctor loaded with responsibilities.
Her tongue flickered out in what was actually a nervous gesture, but his eyes dropped to her mouth and she sensed the change in him.
He lifted a hand and brushed her cheek gently, his breathing unsteady. ‘Christy…’
He was going to kiss her.
She closed her eyes, her blood thundering round her body in excited anticipation, and then there was a clatter and laughter as the two children surged into the room.
Alessandro cursed softly and backed away from her, retreating to his abandoned coffee-cup and leaving Christy ready to sob with frustration.
‘Hi, Mum.’ Katy dragged a chair away from the table and sat down with one leg curled underneath her. ‘Dad. Good night?’
‘Marvellous. Perhaps you would like to bounce on the sofa as well as the bed,’ Alessandro suggested with sarcastic bite, ‘and then I wouldn’t have to sleep on it.’
Ben frowned, puzzled as he poured milk into his cup, slopping it everywhere. ‘But you don’t like us bouncing on the furniture.’
‘Dad was joking,’ Katy said calmly, reaching for a cloth to mop up the mess her brother had made. ‘He’s obviously in a bad mood because he slept badly. Tonight he’d better sleep in the bed.’
Alessandro threw his daughter an exasperated look and then turned to Christy. ‘How does she suddenly know so much?’
Christy gave a weak smile. ‘She’s growing up. Don’t worry. I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight. We’ll take turns.’
She poured herself another cup of coffee and missed the thoughtful smile on her daughter’s face.
The first person she saw when she arrived at work was Jake Blackwell, the obstetrician.
‘Babe! I heard you were back.’ He strolled towards her and dragged her into his arms for a hug.
Christy closed her eyes and held onto him. He was their oldest friend and suddenly she wondered exactly what Alessandro had told him. ‘It’s good to see you.’
Jake gently disengaged himself and looked down at her with a searching gaze. ‘That bad, huh?’
‘Oh, no, everything is fine,’ she lied with a forced smile, and Jake gave a soft laugh.
‘If everything is fine, my angel, then why is Alessandro taking everyone’s heads off and walking round like a volcano on the brink of eruption?’
‘He’s angry with me because I took the children away,’ Christy muttered, and Jake looked at her thoughtfully.
‘You think so?’
Christy stepped back and ran a hand through her hair to check it was still in place. ‘What other reason would there be?’
Jake’s eyes narrowed. ‘Well, I can think of another one but this probably isn’t the time or the place to go into that. Are you going to offer to cook me dinner some time? Don’t forget I’m just a poor, starving bachelor and I haven’t had one of your meals for weeks.’
Christy smiled. It was so good to have friends, she reflected. ‘Of course.’ It would make eating with Alessandro less tense. ‘Are you dating someone special at the moment?’
Jake gave her a wicked smile. ‘You know me, still auditioning for Miss Right.’
Christy sighed. She did know him. Knew his fearsome reputation with women. ‘You should settle down, Jake.’
‘When I find the love of my life, I’ll settle down,’ he drawled, ‘and not a moment before. I have you and Alessandro as an example.’
‘Us?’ She looked at him, startled. ‘What sort of an example are we?’
‘The very best,’ Jake said softly, lifting a hand to her cheek. ‘And don’t you forget that. You’re crazy about each other.’
‘We’re separated.’
‘So?’ Jake gave a dismissive shrug. ‘You’re both passionate, fiery people. You’ve lost your way for a while but you’ll find it again.’
No, they wouldn’t.
She’d lost hope.
Suddenly Christy wanted to blurt everything out. She wanted to tell Jake that Alessandro had put her in the spare room and that he wasn’t interested in her any more, but she couldn’t do that standing in a draughty, hospital corridor.
As if to confirm that point, Jake’s bleeper suddenly sounded and he lifted it from his pocket and read the number with a rueful smile. ‘Here we go again. Women just can’t do without me.’
Christy couldn’t help the smile. ‘You haven’t changed.’
‘And neither have you and Alessandro.’ He put the bleeper back in his pocket and gave her a thoughtful look. ‘Remember that, Christy. I’ll see you later.’
She watched him go, knowing that he was wrong. She had changed. Probably more than she’d realised.
‘Christy?’ Nicky appeared in the corridor. ‘I’ve got a woman coming in by ambulance who collapsed on the tennis court. Can you deal with her?’
Christy hurried towards her. ‘Tennis? There’s snow on the ground.’
‘Indoor court.’ Nicky grinned and pushed her into Resus. ‘She’s on her way now. Billy can help you to start with and he can call Alessandro if he needs to. We don’t really know how serious it is. Her sister is following by car. I’ll put her in the relatives’ room with a cup of tea but don’t forget to update her when you have some news.’
The woman arrived still dressed in her white tennis gear and clutching a vomit bowl.
‘This is Susan Wilde. She was very sick in the ambulance,’ the paramedic said as they lifted her from their stretcher onto the trolley. ‘She was playing tennis when she suddenly complained of a headache and collapsed.’
Christy covered the woman with a blanket while she listened to the handover and then Billy arrived and started his examination.
‘Mrs Wilde? Can you remember what happened?’
The woman turned her head slowly and looked at him blankly, as if she was having trouble focusing and concentrating. ‘Don’t know… Pain…’ She groaned. ‘Neck, head.’ Her eyes drifted shut again and Christy checked her observations quickly.
‘Her pulse is down and her BP is up,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll get you a venflon so that you can put a line in and we’ll give her some oxygen straight away.’
