Читать книгу Miracle Christmas: Dr Romano's Christmas Baby - Cara Colter - Страница 12

THE next month flew by. Rilla was up to her elbows in collating two lots of research she’d been involved with, staying back most nights and coming in on her days off, shut away in Julia’s office, working on the computer. If she did get the NUM position, she wanted to be on top of everything.

Her nervousness grew as each day passed. Ever since the miscarriage and Luca pulling away from her, she’d thrown herself into work, dedicated her life to her career, and the NUM position had been firmly in her sights.

The odds were in her favour too. She’d acted in the position numerous times, covering for Julia’s annual leave, and had been second-in-charge for five years. She knew the job, the staff and the hospital back to front. But that didn’t mean that a better-qualified outside applicant couldn’t still snatch it from her. She knew they’d interviewed six people for the position over a period of a month.

At least she had plenty to distract her from Luca. He was everywhere and even when she couldn’t see him or hear his laughter filtering around the department, everyone was talking about him.

The new consultant was a huge hit. The registrars and residents loved him and the nurses weren’t far behind. Every female with a pulse in the department, including the cleaner, drooled over his dark Latin looks and sexy accent. He smiled and joked with them all, teaching happily and effortlessly putting everyone at ease. Within a month he’d totally endeared himself.

Rilla kept their dealings strictly professional, as did Luca, but even so it took a supreme effort not to get sucked back into the Luca worship vortex. They’d had their chance and blown it. Nothing could be gained from walking that road again.

She still hadn’t seen the divorce papers and knew she was going to have to raise the matter with him again. The simple truth of the matter was that she didn’t need him to sign them to lodge them. It was symbolic more than anything. His acknowledgement that it was over. A statement that they both knew there was nothing left of them.

After the job, she told herself. As soon as she knew the outcome of the interview, she’d talk to Luca about it. But for now she wanted to concentrate all her good energy and positive vibes on being the successful applicant.

It was a Thursday afternoon in mid-October when she was called into Julia’s office and given the good news. As of January, she would be the new nurse unit manager of the department of emergency medicine at the Brisbane General.

Rilla was ecstatic, hugging Julia repeatedly. Finally, after years of striving towards her goal, it was hers!

‘Drinks at Barney’s tonight,’ she announced to all and sundry as they passed the central work station. ‘First round on me.’

It felt good to join the regular work crowd at Barney’s for their afternoon drinks. She had forgone the ritual the last few weeks, preferring not to push the boundaries of collegiality with Luca. But today there was much to celebrate. And Rilla couldn’t think of a better way than a couple of hours of shooting the breeze with her colleagues.

Less than an hour later, however, she was feeling quite differently. She’d been perfectly fine and then suddenly she was sitting there, her face aching with the effort of keeping her smile in place while nausea sat like a lead sinker in the pit of her stomach.

She’d had a funny tummy the last few days. Nothing too dire, just a vague queasiness. And she’d been incredibly tired, even in the mornings. But she’d been working like a dog, pushing herself with the research. Maybe she’d just overdone things and become run down?

Her second orange juice sat untouched before her as the fake citrus aroma assaulted her. She was acutely aware of the heavy mix of colognes surrounding her, of the cigarette smoke coming from the slot-machine area, of beer and cooking steaks.

It had been like that at work too, she belatedly realised. She’d found herself hyper-sensitive to the usual mix of aromas that as a nurse she’d previously been immune to—disinfectant, IV antibiotics, concentrated urine, vomit and infected wounds.

A waitress walked past with some cappuccinos and the strong aroma of coffee had her on her feet in an instant.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, hoping she didn’t look as desperate as she felt, quickly making her way to the toilets. She made it just in time, retching and retching until her stomach ached and her head spun.

It took ten minutes for the nausea to subside and the shaking to stop and for her legs to feel they could support her. She rose from the tiled floor, splashed water on her face at the basins and then wearily made her way back to the table. She gathered her bag and made her excuses amidst a chorus of protests and left.

The fresh air felt marvellous on her heated skin as she left Barney’s. Several people pushed past her on their way in and Rilla stumbled and would have fallen had a warm hand under her elbow not prevented it.

‘Oh, thank you,’ she said, closing her eyes as a wave of dizziness followed hot on the heels of a fresh bout of nausea.

She opened them again to find eyes as black as a starless night looking back at her.

‘Rilla?’ Luca’s gaze raked over her. He knew every nuance of every facial expression she possessed. She looked pale and shaken. She was obviously unwell. ‘Are you OK?’ he demanded.

His words were drowned out by the roar of a truck as it thundered past, spewing diesel fumes. The acrid aroma misted Rilla in its cloying cloud and she mewed as she looked around desperately for somewhere to be sick and not disgrace herself in front of the busy evening trade.

An alley ran down beside Barney’s and she wrenched away from Luca, stumbling into the dark recess. She bent over, splaying her legs wide, and retched again, hoping to God that Luca hadn’t followed. Nothing came up.

‘What’s wrong?’

His Italian shoes appeared in her line of vision and even through her misery she could hear the concern in his voice. She wanted to lean her head against the brick wall and cry.

Rilla felt the nausea subside and righted herself slowly, her hand against the rough brick. She turned and leaned heavily against the wall as her pulse hammered madly through her head.

‘Are you …? Have you drunk too much?’

Had she the energy Rilla would have laughed in his face. She was suddenly bone tired. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous,’ she said wearily. ‘I have to drive.’

Muted neon bled into the soft blanket of twilight and stabbed into the narrow passage, throwing his face into shadow. He looked dark and dangerous. Not someone anyone would want to be stuck with in a rapidly darkening alley.

‘Are you ill?’ he demanded.

Rilla pushed away from the wall and started back down the alley. She felt wretched and all she wanted was her bed. ‘I think I’m coming down with a virus,’ she muttered.

‘Have you seen someone about it?’ he asked, calling after her.

Rilla ignored him, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. If he wanted to talk to her, he could keep up.

‘I said,’ Luca said, catching up to her and snagging her arm, pulling her around and back into the privacy of the alley, ‘have you seen someone about it?’

‘Luca, I’m really tired and—’

The persistent nausea ratcheted up another notch and she put her hand out to lean against the brick wall.

Luca saw her sway and realised she was barely keeping upright. ‘Dio!’ he swore, and swept her up in his arms and strode out of the alley, ignoring her protests. The green man was flashing at the pedestrian crossing and he carried her across the road.

‘Put me down, Luca,’ Rilla admonished as she clung around his neck. People in the street around them were staring and she felt heat rise in her cheeks.

‘You’re not well. I’m taking you home,’ Luca said, holding her tighter as she squirmed.

‘Are you going to carry me all the way?’ Rilla asked, not really objecting terribly much any more. She relaxed into him, snuggling her head against his shirt, just too weary to care.

‘No, just to my car,’ he said as he came up alongside it and pushed the button on his keys to open the central locking. ‘I’m putting you down now. Will you be OK?’ he asked.

Rilla was vaguely aware that he was talking to her and she murmured, ‘Yes.’

Luca lowered her to the ground reluctantly. It had felt good to hold her in his arms again. She had felt warm and soft against him and her breath had been warm against his neck, her lips almost touching it.

He kept hold of her as he opened the passenger door and she swayed into him, her hip and breast rubbing against the fabric of his clothes. ‘Hop in,’ he said, a husky note threading through his voice.

Rilla roused herself as he gently guided her into the seat. ‘But I have my own car,’ she said, resisting.

‘You are in no fit state to drive,’ Luca said firmly as he coaxed her into his sporty BMW. ‘It’ll be safe in the General’s car park overnight,’ he said patiently as he knelt beside her and lifted her legs into the car. ‘I’ll drop you back in the morning.’

Rilla blinked as the car door closed and she inhaled the fragrance of leather as she settled into the soft bucket seat. She waited for the nausea and was relieved to discover it was gone. Luca climbed in beside her and didn’t say a word as he buckled up and started the engine.

Rilla was asleep in less than thirty seconds. The low growl of the engine hummed like a lullabye around her and she couldn’t remember ever having felt this tired. She stirred slightly, her eyes heavy as she realised Luca didn’t know her address, but then the thought slipped out of her grasp and disappeared into the blissful oblivion.

Luca drove calmly, despite the emotional squall lashing his insides. He was excruciatingly aware of her beside him. Even after all these years she still had a power over him that he’d thought he’d exorcised long ago. Of course, sleeping with her again hadn’t helped in that regard.

Her head lolled towards the window and he swallowed as his gaze tracked the olive column of her neck. His fingers itched to stroke the skin there and he tightened them around the wheel. His eyes were drawn to her hands clasped low across her stomach, and he felt something stir inside. Their child had once grown there. He gripped the steering-wheel harder.

A thought occurred to him as he decelerated approaching a red light. Maybe it wasn’t a virus? Maybe it was something else?

Tiredness and nausea. Two very common, classic symptoms of pregnancy.

He felt his pulse pound through his abdomen. Could it be? Luca tried to stay calm and rationalise. It probably was just a virus. She’d been keeping long hours the last month, longer than him, and prior to that there had been the stress of Bridie’s illness. Maybe she’d left herself susceptible to an opportunistic infection.

But then he did a quick calculation—it had been a month since their night together in his bed.

And they hadn’t used protection.

Luca didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way she had her hands, as if she was cradling a fragile little life, or maybe it was the damn papers in his desk drawer that taunted him every day, but suddenly he had a very strong feeling, a gut feeling, that Rilla wasn’t suffering from a virus.

If she was pregnant, did she know? Was she hiding it from him? Luca frowned. He didn’t think so. She genuinely thought she was run down—he’d stake his life on it. He passed a late-night pharmacy and quickly pulled the car over. Rilla murmured but didn’t wake, and he was in and out in two minutes.

‘Rilla.’ His voice was annoyingly husky in the hushed confines of the car and he cleared his throat. His brain had been formulating plans for the last few minutes and he was eager to get the ball rolling. ‘Rilla,’ he said again. Firmer. Louder.

‘Hmm?’ Rilla stirred.

Luca watched as her eyes fluttered open and the slumberous look tinted her amber eyes an amazing shade of gold. She looked vulnerable and he felt a fist claw at his gut.

Rilla almost sighed when she saw the soft black of Luca’s eyes staring back at her. ‘Are we here?’ she asked.

Her sleepy voice and lazy smile were a potently sexy combination and Luca had to physically draw back from the temptation. ‘At my place, yes,’ he said, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car before he did something truly insane like kiss her.

Rilla sat up and looked out the window. Luca’s flat. Their flat. ‘I thought you were taking me home?’ she said as he opened the door and she allowed him to take her elbow and guide her out.

‘My place was closer.’ He shrugged. ‘You’re not well. I want to be able to keep an eye on you.’

‘But—’

‘Rilla!’ Luca interrupted. ‘Just humour me, OK?’

Rilla knew she shouldn’t. She knew it was dangerous but would it hurt to let him take charge for one night? She was tired down to her bones and her stomach ached from being empty and ejecting its contents.

‘You know you really need to work on your flattery, Luca,’ she grumbled as she shut the car door and pushed away from the car.

‘Hey,’ Luca said, putting a hand on her elbow and drawing her back towards him so he could pick her up.

‘Oh, no,’ Rilla said, stepping out of his reach. ‘I’m fine now. I can walk.’

‘You’re weak,’ Luca insisted.

‘I’m fine,’ Rilla repeated, jutting her chin and staring him down.

Luca saw the determined look in her eyes and he acquiesced, but kept a guiding hand beneath her elbow. He unlocked the front door and pushed it shut behind them.

A vision of him taking her against it swamped him and he took a deep steadying breath before he turned back to her.

‘We need to talk,’ he said.

‘Not now, Luca, please. I’m tired and desperately need a shower,’ Rilla said.

‘In a moment,’ he said, steering her into the lounge and towards the couch.

‘Luca,’ she protested weakly.

‘Sit,’ he ordered, giving her a gentle push, knowing that she was so out on her feet a puff of wind could have blown her over.

He held out the brown packet in which the pharmacy had put his purchase. ‘This is for you,’ he said.

Rilla gave him an exasperated look as she took it. ‘What is it?’

‘Open it.’

Rilla rolled her eyes but opened the bag, not remotely curious. She could barely keep her eyes open. She pulled out a long rectangular box and looked at it for several moments through bleary eyes before it made any sense. It was a home pregnancy test kit.

‘What the …?’ she said, her tired brain not quite computing the meaning as she looked at him.

Luca knelt down. ‘You’re tired. You’re nauseous. And it’s been a month since we had sex. Unprotected sex. Are you still on the Pill?’

Rilla stared at the box in a daze. ‘No. But … I had my period,’ she murmured, her brain coming awake now.

Luca’s face fell. He felt stupidly disappointed. His planning on the drive hadn’t involved the not-pregnant contingency. His gut feelings had always been spot on.

‘It was pretty light, though. Didn’t last long,’ Rilla admitted. ‘I just put it down to all the stress with Bridie and work.’

She was fully awake now. ‘Do you think …?’ She looked into Luca’s deep black gaze. ‘Do you think I could be pregnant?’ She didn’t even dare hope.

‘I think it’s a possibility. I think we should find out.’

Rilla looked at the box. The one thing she wanted more than anything else. More than Luca to sign the papers. More than the NUM position. Could it be true?

‘Is your bladder full? Why don’t you go and use it?’ Luca suggested. The suspense was killing him but he could see Rilla was still processing the idea. He waited for a few more moments to prompt her. ‘Rilla?’

‘Hmm?’ she said, looking at him. His gaze was carefully neutral but there was a betraying nerve jumping under his left eye and she could tell he was clenching his jaw. The outcome would affect him as much as her. ‘Oh, yes, right.’

She rose, clutching the box for dear life.

‘I’ll be right out here,’ Luca said as Rilla shut the toilet door on him.

Rilla’s heart pounded and her hand shook as she opened the box. Could she really be pregnant? She pulled the toilet lid down and sat on it for a moment, absorbing the idea. Her hand found her abdomen and she placed it there, hoping for some psychic impulse to overcome her.

Luca paced for five minutes. What was taking her so long? The test only took two minutes, for crying out loud. He knocked lightly on the door. ‘Rilla? Everything all right?’

Rilla came out of her daze. ‘Er … yes, everything’s good.’

‘Have you done it?’ He tried not to be impatient but he felt excluded from the first indication of his baby and he needed to know.

‘Sorry … Hang on, doing it now.’ Rilla took a deep breath, almost too frightened to carry it out. What if it was negative?

She rose and performed the necessary procedure but when it came to looking at the little window, she just couldn’t. It was like her whole future depended on one little cross and she couldn’t bear to look.

She opened the door and thrust the test at Luca. ‘Here, you watch it,’ she said, brushing past him to wash her hands in the bathroom.

Luca’s eyes were drawn to the plastic stick with the two windows. The test window had its pink line clearly visible to prove that the test was viable, and before his eyes a pink cross slowly appeared in the other window.

It took a few moments for the implication to sink in to Luca’s consciousness. It gradually took hold as a reality and Luca felt a joy welling in him that he couldn’t deny. It started at his toes and worked its way through his body like a series of fireworks on New Year’s Eve. His heart beat with the pop and swirl of light and colour.

Could it really be true? After all their history, all their misery, could something so wonderful actually have happened? He could barely move for fear the moment would disappear.

He wanted this baby. He wanted this baby more than he’d ever wanted anything.

It was impractical. Inconvenient. They were almost divorced. But he wanted it anyway.

Rilla came out of the bathroom to see Luca holding the test up, a wide grin breaking across his handsome face. His eyes were glittering like moonlight on water. A little pink plus sign stared back at her.

She was pregnant.

She stared at the test, wanting to believe it but too afraid to allow herself, quashing the excited flutter dancing through her heart. ‘What if it’s wrong?’ she murmured.

‘It’s not,’ Luca said, and grinned again. Modern urine test kits were widely used in all kinds of medical facilities as a reliable, quick, cheap method of confirming pregnancy.

He wanted to pick her up and twirl her around. The distance between them on such an intimate occasion seemed all wrong. But this was a big event and he didn’t want to put one foot wrong. Especially when she still seemed so disbelieving.

Rilla shook her head as it slowly sank in. She was pregnant. The baby she’d coveted for the last few years was now a reality. She placed a hand on her belly. She was going to be a mother. Luca’s child was snuggling into her womb and as the news finally permeated she allowed the joy full rein.

She felt light. Lighter than she’d ever been. And happy. Stupidly, crazily, insanely happy. Despite a hundred reasons to be the complete opposite.

She reached for the test and took it from him. ‘I don’t believe it.’ She shook her head.

‘Believe it,’ Luca whispered.

She looked at him. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

Luca grinned at her dazed expression. ‘We need to talk. Why don’t you go and have that shower and I’ll fix us something to eat?’

Rilla nodded, on autopilot again, her brain utterly preoccupied with the stunning news. The fact that all she’d wanted when she’d walked into the flat fifteen minutes ago had been a shower and bed was completely lost on her. But she went through the motions anyway. Undressing, getting under the spray, applying soap.

She turned off the taps a few minutes later and found a pair of Luca’s cotton boxers and a T-shirt hanging next to a towel on the rail. Not even the thought that he’d been in the room while she’d showered was enough to shift her focus from the baby.

She cleared the condensation from the bathroom mirror and inspected her reflection, turning to one side, smoothing her hand against her stomach. Water droplets beaded her skin but all she had to show was the same slight rise that always greeted her in the mirror.

Soon, though, it would blossom with Luca’s child and she couldn’t wait to see it grow large and full. Or for her breasts to become lush and spill out of her bra as they prepared to nurture Luca’s baby. She pushed out her stomach as far as it would go and grinned stupidly at the woman in the mirror.

Oh, how different she felt this time round. She flattened her stomach as thoughts of her first pregnancy intruded. She remembered looking at the stick with its two pink lines and feeling a gamut of emotions. She’d been twenty-two and married for just one month.

And then there’d been the dreadful end just five weeks later. A miscarriage that had not only halted their parental dreams but had been the beginning of the end for their marriage.

Rilla clutched her stomach, feeling fear break through her joy. The thought of losing another baby, of losing this baby, was too heart-wrenching to bear. She couldn’t go through that again. She just couldn’t. She didn’t know anything about what the next few years would hold or what this baby meant for their impending divorce. She just knew she wanted it more than life itself.

Suddenly depressed, she dressed in the clothes Luca had put out, tying a knot in the T-shirt at her waist. Then she rummaged around in the bathroom drawer and located a packaged toothbrush. There were tears in her eyes as she watched her reflection. Please, let nothing happen to my baby.

She found Luca in the kitchen, preparing some food as soft strains of music swirled through the air. She watched him from the doorway, enjoying how he moved. He’d taken his tie off and undone the top two buttons of his shirt, and her fingers, tricked into some renegade sense of déjà vu, itched to push through his hair and bend his head down for a kiss.

Thinking about the miscarriage had dampened her mood and she could feel her earlier debilitating tiredness returning. Suddenly she didn’t know what to say to him. She needed time to absorb the situation. To think. To be alone.

‘I think I’m going to hit the sack,’ she said casually.

Luca looked up from his chopping. She was wearing the clothes he had put out for her. His shirt was too big, falling off one shoulder and exposing her smooth olive skin to his view, and the way she’d tied it emphasised her waist and pulled across her braless chest. It had never looked so good.

He swallowed. ‘You need to eat something first.’

Rilla’s stomach revolted and she placed a hand over it. She shook her head. ‘I can’t.’

Luca watched the movement and itched to walk over to her and place his hand over hers. Over their baby. ‘You have to eat, Rilla.’

Rilla was growing wearier by the second. It had been a day of huge climaxes and she was coming down from the high, feeling oddly disconnected. ‘I just feel a little too delicate at the moment. And I’m tired, Luca.’

‘It’s only eight. We need to talk.’

‘I know,’ she sighed.

‘What are we going to do?’

Good question. Very good question. ‘Tomorrow, OK?’ She knew they had to sit down and discuss things but, early evening or not, she could barely keep her eyes open. ‘I promise.’

Luca nodded reluctantly. He could see her weariness and he didn’t want to push her in her condition, but there were things he needed to know. He needed a plan. She was having his baby. His baby. And he wasn’t going to mess it up this time.

‘The spare room’s made up.’

Rilla locked gazes with Luca for a brief intense moment, sensing his struggle. ‘Thank you.’

Less than a minute later her head hit the pillow and she slept instantly.