Читать книгу Seduction In Sydney: Sydney Harbour Hospital: Marco's Temptation / Sydney Harbor Hospital: Ava's Re-Awakening / Sydney Harbor Hospital: Evie's Bombshell - Carol Marinelli - Страница 15

EMILY walked onto the ward Monday morning to collect Annie and the dull ache behind her eyes wasn’t helped when she saw Marco was still there.

‘Ah. Here is your mother.’ His glance swept over her. No doubt he could see the bags under her eyes. What did he expect if she’d been awake most of the night, reaching out for his hand in the bed beside her, or, worse still, scared she was falling in love?

His voice seemed to soften—or was it just her imagination? ‘Good morning, Emily.’

Cautiously Emily returned the greeting. ‘Marco.’ She could see Annie’s glance from one to the other and she prayed her daughter would hold her questions till later.

She made an effort to forestall her. ‘Dr D’Arvello has been very good when I was worried.’

‘Si. But today you look worried again.’ He smiled at Annie and then back at Emily. She wanted to look away but couldn’t because it felt too damn good to bask in the light. ‘All is good. Annie’s baby has increased the amount of liquid in the uterus quite substantially, which is a good sign of kidney function. I am very pleased.’

Emily felt one burden ease. ‘That’s wonderful news. So we can go?’

‘Si. But Annie must rest. I have clinics for another two weeks and I would like Annie to have another ultrasound at the end of this week and see me Friday morning in the rooms here.’

She glanced at Annie, who nodded. ‘Fine. We can do that.’ That meant one more definite time she would see Marco and the occasional ward sighting. She could handle that. Just.

‘So you’ll be here for a while?’ Annie was on a different track, a mission of her own, and Emily’s neck prickled.

‘Si. I have said I will work and do the on-call before I leave for the States.’

Annie looked so sweet and Emily’s trepidation grew. She knew that look. ‘So you have no family here, do you?’

Emily froze, wanted to put her hand out or even over her daughter’s mouth as she sensed what was coming.

‘No.’ Marco wasn’t stupid either and Emily held her breath.

So innocent Annie. ‘Would you like to come to my baby shower?’

‘Annie!’ Emily’s voice came out strangled.

‘I’ll see.’ Marco’s smile was crooked. ‘Perhaps your mother would prefer if I didn’t?’

Annie feigned horror. ‘Mum!’

Emily knew she was trapped. ‘What?’

Annie cajoled, ‘Well, I’d like to invite Rodney and his friends and maybe you could invite Dr D’Arvello and yours?’

Emily’s face reddened. ‘We’ll see. I’m sure Dr D’Arvello has other plans.’ She hoped.

Marco didn’t offer anything and she glared at him as she was obliged to fill the gap. ‘But of course he’s welcome.’

Annie was full of mischief. ‘You could even come home this afternoon and help us put up the decorations for Mum’s birthday.’

Emily blinked in shock. It got worse. ‘Annie! That’s enough.’

He looked at Emily. ‘It is your birthday?’

‘Not until Friday.’

Annie sighed. Rolled her eyes. ‘Okay. I’ve already invited Rodney.’ She grinned at Marco. ‘If you get bored you can get the address from my notes.’

Marco smiled at her. ‘Strangely, I know where you live.’

Annie nodded as if he had just confirmed her suspicions. ‘I thought you might.’ She glanced at her mother’s red cheeks.

Going down in the lift Emily fumed. She gripped the handle of Annie’s overnight bag and squeezed it until the plastic bit into her fingers. She’d kill her. The little witch had planned that.

She speared a look at her daughter and Annie was innocently staring at the numbers on the console. Avoiding her, as well she should.

Emily stopped grinding her teeth. ‘Please don’t invite any more people without asking me, Annie.’

Annie swung to face her. Mischief clear and bold. ‘Oh, come on. You two can’t keep your eyes off each other.’ Annie raised her brows and for a moment she looked like her grandmother and Emily felt her anger drain away like water from a leaky pipe.

Until her daughter said, ‘And for the record, who was it who said if you like a boy enough to want to have sex, it would be good to let me into the secret?’ She grinned cheekily. ‘I hope I don’t have to discuss contraception with you, Mum.’

It was that obvious? Emily buried the fingers of her free hand into her forehead. This was all too much. She felt like the daughter here. ‘Touché.’ She huffed her breathe out. ‘He is a nice man but he’s leaving soon.’

‘Come off it, Mum. The guy’s gorgeous and he’s smitten with you. Even more reason to have some fun, for goodness’ sake. And Friday is your birthday.’

Who was this young woman? Then again, Annie had no idea how much fun her mother had already had. Her ears heated. ‘I’ll think about it.’

By the time she’d driven home and Annie was settled into the big squishy living room chair with her feet up, Emily had calmed down. She even whipped up a batch of date scones to set on the table with butter and jam. Men were always hungry. She couldn’t help feeling it would be a bit of an anticlimax if Marco didn’t turn up along with Rodney.

She glanced out the window. A black Aston Martin stopped across the road.

Marco turned off the engine. He’d been kidding himself that he wouldn’t come. He was glad now because he could see Rodney sitting in his car, staring at the front gate. He’d bet the young man tried to build up the courage to knock on the door.

Marco crossed the street and knocked on Rodney’s car roof. ‘Hello?’

‘Oh. Hi.’ Rodney drooped in his seat.

Marco bent down. ‘You are coming in?’

Rodney poked his finger down his T-shirt. ‘I don’t think Annie’s mother likes me.’

Marco opened his door. ‘Annie’s mother will like anyone who makes her daughter happy. You can come with me. We will go in together. Your lady will be glad to see you.’

Marco wasn’t real sure about his own lady but he could understand her reluctance to become more involved when he had stated his intention to leave.

Today he was going to help Rodney.

It would be cathartic to help. To help an insecure boy like Marco had been all those years ago. He certainly would have benefited from some advice from another man.

To Emily it must have seemed as if Marco and Rodney had arrived at the same time and she opened the door with a smile that welcomed.

She greeted them both warmly and he couldn’t help his relief. Though why he was surprised was a measure of his own insecurity because she had always been polite.

‘Come in. Welcome. Annie will be pleased to see you and we have scones ready.’

The house floated on the aroma of fresh baking, Emily’s cheeks were flushed, and Annie lorded over them all from her chair.

It felt like a family. He swallowed the fear in his throat.

Or how he imagined a family would feel. He shouldn’t be here. Only when his father had been in jail had he had any idea of a stable life with his mother and he’d been ready to leave home by then. Was there any chance one day his life might come to this?

‘Marco, can you help, please?’ Perhaps Emily had sensed his ambivalence because she didn’t leave him to ponder too deeply for long.

Within minutes industry ensued as Emily directed and he could see where her daughter had inherited her organisational skills from.

A doting Rodney carried buttered scones across to his lady and Marco lifted down the heavy box of decorations that overflowed with a family history he could only imagine. Even at a glance he could tell some of them were very old.

‘Thanks.’ Emily peered in. ‘That’s the hardest part—getting that box down from the top of the cupboard.’

She lifted a handful of paper chains from the box, some of them falling apart, and set them on the table ready to hang or repair.

‘Annie and I make these every year with the greeting cards from her birthday we saved from the year. So there’s lots of them. It’s a family tradition. We usually put them up a week before someone’s birthday so that they can really soak in the lead-up.’

‘A birthday that lasts for a week?’ Marco had very few memories of any celebrations for his birthday.

Emily looked a little embarrassed. ‘It was really for Annie and Gran more than me. Some of these are from when Annie was only a toddler and just started to play with paper. See, that strip has part of her fourth birthday card on it.’

Marco shook his head and tried to imagine a home that stayed still long enough to hoard such things.

Rodney carried the ladder inside and they discussed their plan of attack.

Emily grinned at him. ‘You’ll be sorry you came. By the time you’ve finished blowing up the balloons—and they’re big ones that Annie loves—you’ll be exhausted. I’ve been dreading that job.’

Marco’s first sight of the balloons confirmed the reason she’d dreaded the thought.

‘They’re huge.’ Rodney was wide eyed.

Emily shook her head sadly. ‘I know. I had a pump but it broke and I’ve never got around to buying a new one.’

She frowned at the bag of hand-sized balloons. ‘I should insist on the little ones, these ones kill me.’ She looked up. ‘But Annie loves these.’

‘Maybe we could just do a couple?’ Rodney was looking dubiously at the balloon in his hand.

‘Not this year,’ Marco said with finality and a sideways look at Emily. ‘In these matters a woman’s wish is law. Perhaps if we do them one at a time, we will survive.’

They achieved the impossible, twelve enormous balloons, and all stood around admiringly at the colourful clump on the floor.

‘Rodney looks sick.’ Annie squinted worriedly at her beau.

‘It’s just a little headache,’ Rodney said gallantly, and Marco patted his shoulder.

‘Just.’ Emily smiled at Marco and Rodney was given a kiss by Annie. ‘We could not have done that without your big lungs. Thank you, both.’

Rodney blushed and Marco whispered in an aside, ‘That is why we do what they want. Worth it?’ Rodney nodded carefully.

‘So, Annie, if you tell Rodney where to hang the chains, Marco and I will sort the balloons. We’ll have it all finished by lunch.’

Much hilarity ensued as every time Rodney stretched the chains the loop broke and they had to strengthen the strips until Marco demanded a stapler and they began to staple the links together.

‘Some are older than others and fragile.’ Annie defended their chain and Marco shook his head. ‘Next birthday perhaps you could start with the stapler and then hang them.’ He glanced across and Emily was watching him.

Her face was quietly thoughtful. He saw her acknowledge that he would not be here for the next birthday. Or the one after that, because he had no continuity like these women and their years of family traditions epitomised by this handmade diary of life.

Suddenly he needed fresh air and a cold breeze on his face to snap him out of melancholy. He pulled his phone from his pocket. Pretended to glance at it. ‘Excuse me. I need to make a call.’

He left her standing in the middle of the room and Emily watched him go. She couldn’t help but wonder about his childhood. What had formed the man who froze at the idea of permanence? She crossed to the kitchen and looked out the window. He wasn’t on the phone. He was staring at the empty bird feeder and the silhouette of his face made her ache for the loneliness she saw in his usually smiling face.

She turned, picked up the seeds for the birds, and followed him out. ‘The lorikeet isn’t here today.’

‘I should not have come.’

‘Why? Because you don’t think you’re welcome?’

‘Because I cannot have a healthy future with any woman.’ He turned to face her squarely. Lifted his head. ‘I cannot be the man you deserve, Emily.’

Emerrrlee. Yes, it would have been nice. More than nice to have a normal, evolving relationship with Marco. One with a future and stability and new excitement every day. But in reality life wasn’t like that, she of all people knew that, and from this last hour she’d discovered she was still glad she’d connected with Marco D’Arvello and really believed she always would be.

She wished she knew what had him running so scared from forming relationships. ‘We don’t have to be intensely involved in each other, Marco. The last couple of days were just a mirage for both of us.

‘But if you want a family to join for the next couple of weeks before you head off on your next high-powered assignment, please join mine.’

She spread her hands. ‘We’d love to have you. Anyone who blows up my balloons is welcome at my door any time.’

He smiled but the humour was missing. ‘I worry that it will be difficult for you when I leave.’

Maybe it would be difficult for him too? She shrugged. ‘My problem, not yours. I’m single, free to have what friends I choose, and I think regret for time we could have spent together could be worse than being safe with no friendship at all.’

She touched his arm. ‘But it’s up to you.’

That night at work Emily couldn’t help thinking about the day. How it hadn’t been as awkward as she’d expected it would be. How Marco had been unobtrusively supportive of Rodney and Annie, and circumspect with her. Maybe too circumspect, according to Annie’s view of her mother’s love life.

But the idea of just getting to know Marco without actually touching him could be a good idea, could help her see that a globetrotting, super-specialist was not in the realms of reality for her life. The problem was she really did like the caring man she could see beneath the handsome exterior.

Today she’d been glad he’d come back inside. Stayed another hour and helped. Had steadied her while she’d climbed the ladder and precariously placed the last balloon on the lightshade so that everyone clapped when it was done.

The phone rang and she blinked her way back to on-duty. ‘Maternity, Emily.’

‘Emergency Department. We’re sending up a thirty-four-weeker in prem labour. Helen Roberts. She’s a booked Caesarean for foetal abnormality and we have the team coming in for that if you can get her ready. We’re up to our ears down here.’

She knew Helen from the antenatal clinic. ‘No problem. Thanks.’ Emily put the phone down and scooted over to the cupboard with all the pre-admission notes for the women booked to have their babies with Sydney Harbour Hospital.

She pulled Helen’s notes and flipped them open on her way back to the desk. ‘Prem labour coming in.’ Helen would be stressing.

‘Must be the month for it.’ Lily reappeared from her ward round with a torch.

‘Helen was a booked Caesarean for next month. Baby has an oomphaceal picked up on late ultrasound. I’ll grab the IV stuff and theatre clothes if you set up the catheter trolley.’

‘Who’s going to Theatre with them?’ Lily was an experienced plastic surgery nurse and Emily was the more experienced with Caesareans.

‘I’ll go this time because I know her, and you hold the ward.’

Lily nodded as they hurried together to the sterile storeroom and loaded their trolleys.

Lily was frowning. ‘That’s a weakness in the skin around the navel, isn’t it?’

‘Yep. So part of the baby’s intestines and sometimes organs are not zipped inside.’ Emily grabbed an IV pole with one hand and pushed the trolley with the other. ‘The good thing about oomphaceals are the tummy contents are protected by the same membrane that covers the cord. So they’re usually safe and can be replaced over time as the skin grows and makes room until it can be replaced inside the abdomen. Or they can have surgery earlier.’

‘Imagine the mum.’ Lily shook her head. ‘It must be hard to be told your baby has something like that. You’d want to see your baby’s face in your mind but you’d have to be thinking about his tummy.’

Emily glanced at Lily as they hurried down to an empty room, set up their work areas and turned down the bed. ‘That’s very true. Helen’s amazing, though. I do wonder if sometimes the imagination is much worse than the actual reality.’ She grinned. ‘You and Luke not getting clucky, are you?’

‘Us?’ Lily shook her head but she did blush. Emily let it go with a smile. Lily changed the subject. ‘I’ll bet this mum will be looking forward to seeing her baby. Then she can stop imagining so much.’

They heard the lift doors open and Lily went out to direct them down the hall. Emily leaned over, stuck the name badge to the wall and shifted the bed across so the trolley could come in easily.

She was surprised to see Marco accompany the trolley but he’d said he was on call tonight. Apparently he’d offered to do call for the rest of the week so there’d be no more Limoncello for him when he got home from work.