The Christmas Marriage Rescue

by Sarah Morgan

  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 A
lessandro 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.’

  Billy stared at her and then nodded. ‘OK. Yes. Good idea.’ He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. ‘I might just give Mr Garcia a call. Ask him to take a look at her.’

  ‘You get a line in and I’ll call him for you,’ Christy advised, handing him the necessary gear and then attaching ECG electrodes to the patient’s chest. ‘He’s going to want you to have obtained venous access. It looks as though she might have had a subarachnoid haemorrhage.’

  ‘Right.’ Taking the tourniquet from the tray she’d handed him, Billy slid it onto the patient’s arm and pulled it tight. As he searched for a vein and slid the venflon into place, Alessandro walked into the room.

  ‘Everything all right in here?’

  ‘I was just going to come and ask your advice,’ Billy confessed, releasing the tourniquet and raising his eyebrows as Christy handed him a selection of bottles. ‘What are those for?’

  ‘BMG, FBC, clotting screen and U and Es,’ Christy said calmly, reaching for the forms to go with the bottles and filling out all of them except the doctor’s signature. ‘I’ll just go and arrange for a chest X-ray because it’s obvious that you’re going to need one of those.’

  She thought she saw a flicker of amusement and admiration in Alessandro’s eyes as she walked towards the phone.

  By the time she’d finished, Alessandro was examining the patient, who by now was so drowsy she could barely answer and was making little sense at all.

  Christy was just wondering whether the woman had actually lapsed into unconsciousness when she gave another groan, rolled onto her side and vomited weakly.

  Christy got the bowl there in time and Alessandro frowned.

  ‘We need to give her some morphine and an anti-emetic. Christy, I want you to arrange an urgent CT scan and contact the neurosurgeons.’

  ‘I’ve already arranged the scan and the neurosurgeons are on their way down.’ Christy drew up the drugs that he’d requested and gave them to him to check while Billy stared in amazement.

  ‘You called the scanning department already? When did you arrange that?’

  ‘At the same time that I arranged the chest X-ray. It seemed sensible.’ Christy checked the woman’s observations on the monitor. ‘She’s showing signs of raised intracranial pressure, do you want to give her some IV mannitol?’

  ‘We’ll do the scan straight away and discuss it with the neurosurgeons,’ Alessandro said, a strange light in his eyes as he looked at her. ‘I’d forgotten what it was like to work with you.’

  She gave him a cool look. ‘Had you?’ He thought of her as the mother of his children, she realised suddenly. He didn’t really see her as an individual any more.

  Didn’t think she was a capable nurse.

  ‘Is there anything else you need?’ she asked. ‘Because her sister is in the waiting room and she needs an update. I can send Donna through to help you here and go with her to the scanner.’

  ‘Go and talk to the sister,’ Alessandro said immediately, ‘and tell her I’ll be able to tell her more once we’ve done the scan and talked to the neurosurgeons.’

  Christy pulled off her apron, washed her hands and then walked towards the relatives’ room.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘SO WHAT’S it like having your wife under your nose in the department,’ Jake asked cheerfully as he piled butter onto a baked potato and dropped two bars of chocolate on his tray.

  ‘Surprisingly good. At least she knows what she’s doing, which is more than can be said for half the people I’m expected to work with at the moment.’ Alessandro eyed Jake’s tray with disbelief as they stood in the queue, waiting to pay. ‘Blackwell, you do realise that the contents of your tray are likely to give you a heart attack before morning?’

  Jake shrugged. ‘Chocolate and
baked potatoes are the only edible objects in this restaurant. And I don’t see why you’re surprised about Christy. She was always a brilliant nurse. The brightest I ever worked with.’

  ‘I forgot you worked with her.’

  ‘She did an obstetrics module. All the doctors were crazy about her.’

  Alessandro scowled. ‘I didn’t need to hear that.’

  ‘Why not? It’s the truth.’ Jake studied a cake loaded with cream. ‘Christy is gorgeous.’

  ‘You’re talking about the mother of my children,’ Alessandro said coldly, and Jake shrugged and walked past the cake.

  ‘So? That doesn’t stop her being gorgeous. And, anyway, I thought you didn’t want her any more.’

  Alessandro inhaled sharply. ‘Who said I didn’t want her any more?’

  ‘You didn’t follow her to London.’

  ‘She left to get away from me,’ Alessandro said grittily. ‘I assumed that following her would inflame the situation.’

  ‘Did you?’ Jake shot him a curious look. ‘You really don’t understand women at all, do you?’

  Alessandro stared at his friend with mounting irritation. ‘And you do?’

  ‘Of course. I’m an obstetrician. I’m paid to understand women.’ They arrived at the till and Jake beamed at the plump, smiling woman who looked at his tray and clucked with disapproval.

  ‘Where’s the nutrition in that lunch, Dr Blackwell?’

  ‘I need energy, not nutrition, Delia,’ Jake said cheerfully. ‘We’re busy on the labour ward and I’m going to need more than carrots to see me through until midnight. That’s a nice jumper. The colour suits you. Is it new?’

  ‘You always notice the little things.’ Delia beamed and handed him his change. ‘Early Christmas present from my daughter who lives in Canada.’

  ‘Is that Gillian? The one with the two-year-old?’

  Delia blushed with delight. ‘Is there anything you don’t remember, Jake?’

  ‘I’m programmed to remember the details of everyone’s labour and delivery,’ Jake responded with a cheerful wink as he pocketed the change and lifted his tray.

  Alessandro rolled his eyes as they walked to the nearest vacant table. ‘Do you have to flirt with every woman you meet?’