скачать книгу бесплатно
“Just put the thing on Mute or change your number,” Fran had insisted. “Use us. Stay contactable. We want to help.”
If only someone could help. But she and she alone had got herself into this mess.
Bea hurried into the supplies room before a fresh hit of tears glossed her eyes. She missed her best friend. Could really do with a Bea-and-Fran night on the sofa. A pizza. Box set. Bottle of wine—nope! Nix the wine. But... Oh...nix everything. Now that Fran had gone and fallen in love with Luca, and the pair of them were making a real go of the clinic at Mont di Mare, Bea would have to make do on her own. And stay busy. Extra busy. Any and all distractions were welcome.
She forced herself to focus on the shelves of supplies, desperate to remember why she’d gone to the room in the first place.
“Hello, Beatrice.”
She froze at the sound of Jamie’s voice. Then, despite every single one of her senses being on high alert, she smiled. How could she have forgotten it? That Northern English lilt of his accent. The liquid edge he added to the end of her name where Italians turned it into two harsher syllables. From his tongue her named sounded like sweet mountain water...
When she turned to face him, her smile dropped instantly. Jamie’s expression told her everything she needed to know.
He wasn’t letting bygones stay back in England, where she’d left him some seven-hundred-odd days ago. But who was counting? Numbers meant nothing when everything about his demeanor told her it was the witching hour. Time to confront the past she’d never been able to forget.
* * *
“Since when does Italy’s most pampered princess get her own supplies?”
The comment held more rancor than Jamie had hoped to achieve. He’d been aiming for a casual “fancy meeting you here,” but he’d actually nailed expressing the months of bitterness he’d been unable to shake since she’d left him. True, he hadn’t put up much of a fight, but she had made it more than clear that her future was in Italy. With another man.
It had blindsided him. One minute they were more in love than he could imagine a couple ever being. The next, after that sudden solo trip to Venice, her heart had belonged to another.
He’d not thought her so fickle. It had been a harsh way to learn why they called love blind.
When their gazes connected the color dropped from Beatrice’s face. A part of him hated eliciting this bleak reaction—another part was pleased to see he still had an effect on her.
Ashen faced with shaking palms wasn’t what he’d been hoping for... Seeing her at all hadn’t been what he’d been hoping for...but no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many corners he’d turned since he’d left England, he didn’t seem to be able to shake her. This was either kismet or some sort of hellish purgatory. From the look on her face, it wasn’t the former.
Self-loathing swept through him for lashing out at Beatrice. A woman who’d done little more than proactively pursue the life she wanted. Which was more than he could say for himself.
“What are you doing here, Beatrice? Aren’t you meant to be on honeymoon? Or is this part of it? Dropping in to local clinics to grace us with your largesse before embarking on a shopping spree. Dubai, perhaps? Turkey? Shouldn’t you be buying silver spoons for the long line of di Jesolos yet to come into the world?”
Jamie hated himself as the vitriol poured out of him. Hated himself even more as he watched Beatrice’s full lips part only to say nothing, her features crumpling in disbelief as if he’d shivved her right then and there rather than simply pointed out everything the tabloids had been crowing about. The engagement. The impending wedding. The royal babies they were hoping would quickly follow the exotic and lengthy honeymoon.
A month ago he’d refused to read anymore. He’d endured enough.
He looked deep into her eyes, willing her to tell him something. Anything to ease the pain.
As quickly as the ire had flared up in him, it disappeared.
You’re not this man. She must’ve had her reasons.
Jamie took a step forward, his natural instinct to put a hand on Beatrice’s arm—to touch her, to apologize. As he closed the space between them the handful of gel packs and silver dressings she’d been holding dropped from her fingers. They knelt simultaneously to collect them, colliding with the inevitable head bump and mumbled apologies.
Crouching on the floor, each with a hand to their forehead, they stared at one another as if waiting for the other to pounce.
By God, she is beautiful.
“You’ve grown your hair,” she said finally.
She was so close he could kiss her. Put his hand at the nape of her neck as he’d done so many times before, draw her to him and...
She was talking about haircuts.
A haircut had been the last thing on his mind when she’d left. Work. Work had been all he’d had and he’d thrown himself so far into the deep end he’d been blind to everything else. Got too involved. So close he’d literally drained the blood from his own body to help ease the pain of his patient.
Elisa.
That poor little girl. They’d shared a rare blood type. Foolishly he’d thought that if he saved her life he might be able to save himself. In the end his boss had made him choose. Take a step back or leave.
So here he was in Italy, just when he’d thought he was beginning to see straight again, eye to eye with the woman who had all but sucked the marrow from his bones.
“It looks nice,” Beatrice said, her finger indicating the hair he knew curled on and around his shirt collar. What was it she’d always called him? Hay head? Straw head? Something like that. Something that brought back too many memories of those perfect summer months they’d shared together.
He nodded his thanks. Blissful summers were a thing of the past. Now they were reduced to social niceties.
Fair enough. He glanced at his watch. The chopper would be leaving in five. He needed to press on.
“C’mon. Let’s get these picked up. Get you back to your patient.” No matter how deeply he’d been hurt, patients were the priority.
She reached forward, sucking in a sharp breath when their fingers brushed, each reaching for the same packet of dressings.
“I’m not made of poison, you know.”
Beatrice’s gaze shot up to meet his, those rich brown eyes of hers looking larger than ever. He couldn’t tell if it was because she’d lost weight or because they were punctuated by twilight-blue shadows. Either way, she didn’t look happy.
“No one knows who I am here,” she bit out, her voice low and urgent as she clutched the supplies to her chest. “I would appreciate it if you could keep it that way.”
A huff of disbelief emptied his chest of oxygen. Flaunting the family name was the reason she’d left him, and now she wanted to be anonymous?
She met his gaze as she finished scanning his uniform. “Since when do pediatricians wear high-octane rescue gear? I thought life in a children’s ward was all the excitement you needed?”
“Snide comments were never your thing.”
“Pushing boundaries was never yours.”
Jamie’s lungs strained against a deep breath, all the while keeping tight hold of the eye contact. He wanted her to see the man he’d become.
After a measured exhalation he let himself savor the pain of his teeth grating across his lower lip. He turned to leave, then changed his mind, throwing the words over his shoulder as if it were the most casual thing in the world to lacerate the woman he loved with words.
“People change, Dr. Jesolo. Some of us for the better.”
* * *
Ten minutes later and the sting of his comment still hadn’t worn off. Perhaps it never would.
And hiding in the staff room with her friendly Aussie colleague had only made things worse. He was a messenger with even more bad news.
Jamie Coutts was not just back in her life—he was her boss.
“Wait a minute, Teo.” Bea held up a hand, hardly believing what she was hearing. “He’s what?”
Teo Brandisi gave Bea a patient smile and handed her the cup of herbal tea he’d promised her hours earlier in the busy shift.
“The big boss man. The big kahuna. Mayor of medics.”
“But you hired me.”
“He was out in the field. He hands over the reins to me when he’s away.”
“But—”
“Quit trying to fight it, sweetheart. He’s le grand fromage—all right? I wouldn’t be working here without his approval, so if you’ve got a bone to pick with him, I’m recusing myself. He has my back. I have his. You got me?” Teo continued in his broad Australian accent.
Bea shook her head and waved her hands. “No, it’s not that. I’ve nothing against Dr. Coutts.”
Liar.
She cleared her throat, forcing herself to sound more neutral. “I just don’t understand why he had to approve appointing you but not me.”
“Foreign doctor.” Teo pointed at himself. “We can’t just swan in and take all the choice jobs. Even though he’s English, he’s been qualified to practice here for over a year.”
He’d been in Italy for a year and she hadn’t known.
Well...she’d done a whole lot of things he didn’t know about, so fair was fair.
“My advice?” Teo was on a roll. “You have to suck up to people like James Coutts.”
“James?”
“Yeah... Why?”
Teo scrunched up his nose and looked at her as if she was giving proof positive she was losing her marbles. Maybe she was. And if Jamie was James, and she’d shortened her name to Bea, then the only thing that was clear was that they were both trying to be someone new.
A reinvention game.
Only games were meant to be fun. And everything about seeing Jamie again was far from fun. Confronting what she’d done to him was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done.
“Anyhoo...” Teo continued. “James has got the whole British-reserve thing going on big-time.” A glint of admiration brightened his blue eyes. “The man’s like an impenetrable fortress. Impossible to read. Well done!” He clapped her on the shoulder. “A gold star to Dr. Jesolo for getting under the Stone Man’s skin!”
“The Stone Man?”
“Yeah. We all take bets on how many facial expressions he actually has. I’m going with three. Contemplative. Not happy. And his usual go-to face—Mr. Neutral. No reading that face. No way, no how.”
Bea hid her face in the steam of her tea for a minute. Her kind, gentle Jamie was an impenetrable fortress? That wasn’t like him. Then again...she was hardly the same. Why should he be?
“It’s most likely a fluke. That or he doesn’t like blondes?”
Teo gave her a sidelong glance as if he already knew the whole story. Could tell she was just making things up. Covering a truth she wasn’t yet ready to divulge.
“Fair enough.”
They stood in an awkward silence until Bea launched into a sudden interest in removing her herbal tea bag from her mug.
If Teo had known she was pregnant, she could have just blown the whole thing off as a bout of pregnancy brain. Not that she even knew if pregnancy brain hit this early. Sharp bouts of fatigue certainly had. And morning sickness. She’d never look at a hamburger the same way again! At least when she’d been on her brother’s yacht she’d managed to fob off the nausea she’d felt as seasickness. Now that she was up here in the mountains she couldn’t do that. It was meant to pass soon. And by the time her contract was up she’d be off to hide away the rest of her pregnancy somewhere else.
“So, on a day-to-day basis you’re my boss?” She kept her eyes on her tea, wincing at the note of hope in her voice.
“Nope. Dr. James Coutts is your actual boss,” Teo continued, after taking his shot of espresso down in one swift gulp.
Classic Italian. She would be amazed if he went back to Australia. He might be second generation in Australia, but the man had Italy in his bones.
“I step in when he’s out on rescue calls, like today. The fact I was on duty when we held your interview was just a coincidence.”
“So...he knew I was coming?”
The interview had been a week ago. Start date today. He’d had a whole week to come to terms with things and yet she was sure she’d seen shock in his eyes. The same shock of recognition that had reverberated through to her very core.
“He knew someone was coming, but he’s been tied up training the emergency squads.”
Her Jamie? Better-safe-than-sorry Jamie?
She’d always thought she was a solid rock until she’d met him. But no one had been more reliable, more sound than him.
“He’s pretty good about not breathing down your neck.” Teo pulled open a cupboard and began to look around for some biscuits. “And he lets staff make decisions in his absence. He’s a really good guy, actually. Don’t let the whole Dr. Impenetrable thing get to you.”
Her lips thinned. Jamie was better than a good guy. He was the kindest man she’d ever met.
Strangely, it came as a relief to hear his bitterness seemed to be solely reserved for her. Deservedly so. How she could have dumped him just to make good on an antiquated match between her family and the Roldolfos was beyond her now. Family loyalty meant altogether different things when your blue-blooded mother was trying to uphold hundreds of years of tradition. Pass the princess baton...even if it came at her daughter’s expense.
She heard Teo sigh and looked up to catch him lovingly gazing at a plate of homemade biscotti. Someone’s grandmother’s, no doubt. There was a lot of bragging about grandmothers up here. She missed hers. No doubt she would have had some wise words for the insane situation Bea was in now.
“Did you hear the crew earlier? Sounds like it was a pretty intense case,” Teo continued, oblivious to the turmoil Bea was enduring.
“I didn’t see any patients come down from the helipad.” She shook her head in confusion.
“They dropped the patient off in Switzerland. A little kid. Five, maybe six years old—broke his leg. Compound fracture. Tib-fib job. Massive blood loss. The mother nearly lost the plot. She was attacking the staff, threatened to kill one of them if they didn’t let her on the helicopt—”
“All right, all right.” Bea held up a hand, feeling a swell of nausea rise and take hold as he painted the picture. “It’s obvious someone’s a bit jealous that he wasn’t out on the rescue squad today.”
“I’m on tomorrow.” Teo gave his hands a quick excited rub. “You can sign up, too, if you like. We do it on rotation, because summers are so busy up here, but you’d probably have to do your first few with James. The man is a right daredevil when’s he’s wearing the old rescue gear. Biscotti?” He held out a plate filled with the oblong biscuits.
“No, grazie. Or, actually...” Maybe it would help settle her stomach. She took one of the crunchy biscuits and gave him a smile.
He gave the door frame a final pat and then was gone.
Bea sank into a nearby chair. As far as she was concerned, Teo could have all her emergency-rescue shifts. About eight weeks, two days and...she glanced at her watch...three hours ago she would have been all over them. High-octane rescues and first-class medical treatment? Amazing experiences.
