Marco watched her indulgently. ‘Did you sleep today after Annie’s appointment?’
‘Of course. My usual four hours. It’s been a big week for you, too.’
‘Unlike you, I at least go back to my bed at night. Do you still have to do this night shift? Your daughter is old enough now to not need you to work such abnormal hours.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s what I do. One day I will stop but someone has to pay the bills.’
Marco frowned. He could understand that. And it was none of his business. He needed to remember that. In fact, he was mad even turning up here, but he did hate it that Emily was as tired as she’d looked that morning. Had worried about her all day at the back of his mind during his surgery list.
For the last few years his financial concerns had improved so much they’d been delegated to a financial planner. A very good one. Never again would he worry where his next meal came from, or even his next house should he wish to purchase one, but he didn’t like the idea that Emily had such concerns.
Emily frowned at him and he realised he’d overstepped the boundaries of their relationship. Again. He didn’t even know why he’d started that conversation and she had every right to look at him strangely. He changed topic abruptly. ‘I was pleased with Annie’s ultrasound today.’
‘She’s happy. She asked when you were coming over again for a barbecue.’
‘Is that an invitation?’ He had become so needy it sickened him.
‘You know you’re welcome any time.’
But would he see her alone? He had his other gift to give. Annie he enjoyed, she made him smile, but it seemed like a year since he’d had Emily to himself. ‘It’s a shame I can’t run you home after the party.’
She smiled and in her beautiful eyes he saw the acknowledgement that she too missed their time together but accepted the reality of no future. ‘That would be hard when I live here.’
‘I could drive you around the block. Then drop you home.’ It seemed his heart was not yet ready to listen to reason.
‘Or you could just stay back when everyone goes.’ Perhaps her heart wasn’t ready, either. She tilted her head. ‘But I don’t know if night-time is a good time to be alone with you, Marco.’
Now he could not give in. ‘It could be a very good time.’
‘That’s what I mean.’ Wistful perhaps. He hoped.
‘Afraid?’ Always a trump card with Emily. The dare.
‘Of you?’ She arched her brows. ‘Not likely. I’ve been stuck to a wall upside down in a ride with you.’
He laughed. Could feel the lightness of heart that he had come to realise was how he felt whenever he was with Emily. ‘So may I stay?’
She glanced around. Everyone was starting to leave. The party was almost over and what mischief could they get into when Annie was here? What harm could be done with sharing his company just a little longer? ‘Of course. But you can explain to Annie. I’ll just say goodbye to people. Do you want to come?’
Not really. Was it wise to advertise the fact they were together? Perhaps he needed to get over this aversion to being paired with one woman. Paired with Emily. He had never worried about parading a beautiful woman on his arm before. He would be gone and forgotten in another couple of weeks. So why was this different?
‘As you wish.’ There must have been the remains of his discomfort in his voice because she swivelled back to face him.
‘Is there a problem?’
‘No.’ He thought about it. Tasted his reasoning. Fear? Fear of what? ‘No, there isn’t. I’m sorry. Let us say goodbye together.’
She looked at him strangely, as well she might, but he’d had an epiphany. He realised he was proud to be seen with Emily. Even if it was for a few short weeks he would carry the memories with him for a long time and he was far from ashamed that she enjoyed his company.
He held out his hand and smiled at her. ‘Come.’
She took his hand. Grinned at his word choice. ‘It’s just Evie and Finn and Lily and Luke mostly. They organised this with Annie.’
When he shook hands Finn grinned and Marco acknowledged the satire behind the smile. Evie hugged him but he was not sure why and Luke and Lily smiled warmly when Emily said Marco was staying for a while.
Maybe it wasn’t so bad to face the world with someone you were proud of. He realised he was proud of Emily. Proud of the amazing woman she was. He just hoped she felt the same. But he would like at least a few moments alone with her.
‘Would you like to go for a walk?’
‘With a big strong man as my escort? Why not? I don’t usually walk around here at night on my own.’
The thought sent a shiver of disquiet through him. Emily alone at night. ‘I should hope not.’
Emily heard the possessiveness in his voice. Couldn’t help but smile at it. A woman could get used to a man who wished to ensure her safety. Wanted to protect her. A woman could—but Emily wouldn’t have that opportunity. Marco would be gone and she would be travelling alone again shortly. ‘I could walk at night if wanted to.’
He laughed. ‘And if you had a butterknife, any man would be afraid.’
She called out to Annie to say they’d be down at the wharf and they walked out into the street together.
They walked with purpose, hand in hand, neither quite relaxed enough to dawdle—perhaps the idea of time marching on kept their pace fast, as if they could squeeze as much distance covered into the short time they had together.
The sensation of walking with Marco by her side seemed bitter-sweet for Emily until they came to the pier where the ferries came in.
He reached into his pocket for the gift box that had arrived by courier from the airport. More notice of her birthday would have been good. ‘I have something else for your birthday. Something from Italy to remember me by.’
It didn’t sound as good as he’d hoped when he said it like that.
She took the box hesitantly and he shook his head. ‘I do not buy much. It will give me pleasure to give you this.’
She nodded, smiled up at him, and he savoured her reluctance to tear the paper. Finally it was open and the brilliantly hued heart-shaped pendant shimmered in the streetlight. Such brilliant greens that matched her eyes. Exactly as he’d wished.
‘It is Murano crystal. Made in Venice.’ He took it from her and indicated he would help her fasten it. ‘May I?’
‘Of course.’ She turned and exposed her nape and his stupid fingers shook as he fastened it.
‘It’s beautiful. Thank you.’ She leant up and kissed his cheek. ‘I will treasure it.’
And I will treasure the memories of you, she thought, and turned away to hide her face from him.
She pointed out the big old house on the water. ‘So my little house is tucked in behind there.’
Marco stared thoughtfully at the huge white mansion. ‘And that was your grandfather’s childhood home?’
‘Yes.’ They both looked at the untidy lawn that ran down to the water’s edge. ‘But it was sold well before he met Gran to pay his father’s debts.’
A ferry glided in, churned the water, and reversed away again as they leant on the rail and gazed over Sydney harbour.
There was a certain melancholy in their comfortable silence. ‘Would you like to catch the next ferry to Luna Park for an hour?’
She smiled and shook her head. ‘I have my mouse now.’
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. The movement drew her towards him and she stepped in closer. By the light of the streetlamp his chiselled features stood out starkly and she lifted her other hand to stroke his cheek. ‘Thank you for coming to my party.’
‘I needed to see those decorations in all their glory.’ She was going to joke back when he broke in again.
‘Already I miss you, Emily.’
Her brows drew together and she looked across at him. ‘We must be sensible.’ And then he kissed her and neither felt very sensible at all as he pulled her into the shadows a
way from the pool of yellow light cast by the streetlamp.
Marco’s mouth trailed her throat and she slipped her fingers in between the buttons of his shirt. Splayed them across his chest because who knew if she would ever feel this chest again? The warmth of reality, so firm and strong beneath her palm. She turned her head so she could hear his heart beat like a drum against her ear. Then his mouth came down again and he lifted her, spun her in the way she loved, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as she stared down into his face. A face she saw so often now in her dreams. A face that would soon be gone, and the added fuel of that thought deepened her response as she lost herself in his embrace.
Rodney’s running footsteps penetrated and Marco lowered her until her feet touched down as the kiss broke. His arm steadied them as they turned.
‘Here you are!’ The relief on Rodney’s face sent a shiver of alarm through Emily’s whole body. ‘You have to come home. She’s got pains.’
Emily could feel the fear balloon in her chest. She should have noticed something was wrong. And she hadn’t been there. She’d been out kissing Marco in the shadows. What sort of mother was she?
The three of them jogged up the hill until they reached the house and then Marco followed more slowly. This was not good. ‘What time did the pains start?’ he asked Rodney.
‘Just after you left. But she didn’t tell me till just now. I was going to ring Emily but she wouldn’t let me.’
Stupido. ‘Afraid of the false alarm. Next time you tell her she must. Do not take no.’
Rodney nodded but he looked alarmed that he might have done the wrong thing. Marco patted his shoulder. ‘It is good you are here and that you came for us. Wait. I will see what is happening.’
Before he could make his way to Annie’s room Emily was back. ‘Her waters have broken. She’s in full labour.’
So. As he’d feared. ‘Take your car. It will be faster than an ambulance and we both have the experience. I will phone ahead and they will meet us with a trolley.’
Emily’s eyes were anguished and he wanted to pull her in close and comfort her. But there would be time later.
‘What if the baby comes?’
He squeezed her shoulder. ‘Then we will manage. It is our work. We are minutes from the hospital. Get the car and I will carry her out.’
Emily couldn’t remember the drive. Just that this was real and it was happening. And she hadn’t been there. Rodney held Annie’s hand and Emily tried desperately to pretend her daughter was a woman she didn’t know. Her voice was calm, steady, matter-of-fact when Annie started to panic, was this transition stage already, and deep inside Emily wanted to scream and beat her chest and say ‘No! I’m sorry.’
They arrived in the ambulance bay within minutes and, thanks to Marco’s call, were transported immediately to the birthing suite where others were already assembled.
Teo was there, and his team from the NICU was there, even one who had been here when Annie herself had been born.
And always Marco. Calm, organised, directing the administration of drugs, acknowledging there was little they could do to halt the birth of Annie’s baby but secure in the knowledge the best of neonatal care was waiting.
Twenty-seven weeks. Thirteen weeks early. Emily was transported back through the years to the day her own baby had been born. To the strangeness of the NICU, to the fragility of her own newborn. But that would be nothing to what Annie would go through.
Her granddaughter would be tiny. Like a doll in a man’s palm, wrinkled and skinny and bright pink with blood too close to the surface through too few layers of skin. Little eyes barely able to open. Too tiny to fight any infection, would forget to breathe, struggle to eat. It would go on for months. And always the risk she would get sick and not see the next day.
Why? Why had this happened? How could she have prevented it? She should never have left the house with Marco.
Marco saw the fears cross Emily’s face. Wave after wave. Battered but never beaten. He wanted to stride across the room and shelter her. Calm her storm of fears, but he couldn’t. Tell her it would be all right but he wasn’t so sure it would.
In his mind he reassured himself. She was strong, she didn’t need him. Not someone who would be leaving before this whole drama had played out.
All he knew was this baby was coming. Then Annie’s baby arrived.
The next hour was fraught as Rosebud fought for life.
They all moved down to the NICU. Annie, shaking with the hormones of labour, in a wheelchair, Rodney holding her hand, his eyes red from emotion, Emily hovering, explaining, supporting... And Marco...stood apart.
Teo orchestrated the recovery of a
perilously ill neonate with his team of intensivists. Men and women who worked like clockwork, a day in their lives pretty much like another, but not for the Cooper family.
Check tube, intubation, the sound of mechanical lungs breathing such minimal breaths for tiny lungs. Rhythmic, relentless, a breath even if she didn’t want to. IV lines in veins like patterns drawn by ballpoint, incredibly thin and fragile vessels captured and taped. Skin dots attached to cardiac monitors. Murmured voices discussing the life of your child in equations and gradients and percentages of oxygen for the very prem.
Marco had seen it all many times before. Had done his time in NICU as a registrar, had chosen the maternal side of birth in preference to this very prem duelling dance with death. Standing there, he knew why.
For Emily, as she eased back away from the open crib until her spine was against the cold nursery wall, suddenly she felt disconnected. Unable to believe this was happening.
It took her back sixteen years. Even though Annie had never been as fragile as this baby, the feelings were the same.
Fear, helplessness and such a sense of loss for the beautiful, tranquil birth and introduction her tiny granddaughter should have had if she’d stayed where she should have.
She sucked in another breath. But she would stay strong for Annie, strong for little Rosebud, even strong for Rodney, who had surprised her with his caring, his inability to hide how much he adored Annie and looked up to her, and his absolute devotion to his tiny daughter.
She wiped a disobedient tear away. She wasn’t going to cry. Not here. Not now.
God, she was so sick of being strong.
Sixteen years ago she’d stood against her parents and their wish that she should have her baby adopted, had refused their attempt to sweep her pregnancy and their granddaughter under the mat of public scrutiny.
Her parents had come once to see Annie after the birth, and had refused to even hold her, and that had been when Emily had decided her daughter wouldn’t grow up in such a house of disapproval.
On discharge from hospital she’d packed her school things, the few pieces of baby clothes she’d managed to collect and headed to Gran’s, where she had been welcomed with open arms.
Emily had been determined, had begun to plan the future for her daughter and herself, but still inside she’d needed to prove to everyone that she was not just a good mother but the best mother anywhere.
Now she needed to be strong again. She saw Marco watching her. Saw his concern, and for a moment she was tempted to ask for help, pass some of her load across to those broad shoulders, but what if she did? What if she weakened and then suddenly he was gone? What would she do then?
What if having to deal with Marco’s departure eroded the well of strength she’d always relied on? She didn’t go to anyone when she struggled with life. She just got on with it. The thought terrified her. Soon he’d be gone. If she took strength from him she’d have to start being alone all over again.
And she didn’t have the emotional fortitude to spare. Annie and Rosebud needed her. She wouldn’t let them down again. It was better she carried the load alone, like she would have to when Marco was gone.
This was family pain of a different sort. Marco watched from across the room.
He ached for Annie, for her t
iny baby and especially for Emily, but he could not become involved. Could not cross the floor to stand by her side, no matter how much he wanted to.
She needed someone strong, someone who would always be there for her. He glanced around the room and still she stood alone.
But who would that be?
Such isolation. Suddenly he saw that she was like him. Alone. Isolated. Yet she had not let it affect her ability to welcome people into her circle of caring, like she had admitted him. She made friends, stood by them, opened herself to risk. This he could not do, had never learned, but maybe, one day slowly, he could absorb the rudiments he’d learned from Emily. If he crossed the room, what could he do? He felt so helpless.
Did she blame him? Could he have foreseen Annie would go into prem labour? What if he had kept her in hospital longer? But he knew any other hospital would have done the same. And the speed that she’d laboured would never have been successfully stopped. He had to go to her.
‘Emily?’ He touched Emily’s shoulder. Brushed the hair back from her eyes. ‘It is good Rosebud had already had her hydrocortisone and this will stand the lungs in good stead.’
She looked at him but he wasn’t sure she could see him. ‘I know. But still she’s so fragile.’
His hand fell and then he lifted it again. He’d pushed through his fear of becoming too involved with this family. She would not push him away now. ‘What can I do? How can I help you?’
She looked at him. Stepped back a pace out of range of his hand. ‘I’m fine. We’ll get through this. It’s what we do. It’s what I do. I’m sorry, Marco. I need space. I need to be here for my daughter. For Rosebud.’
No. He could not accept that. Finally a moment that was not about him or his past. This was about Emily, who needed to take his help. He would fight to help her; for the first time in his life he would fight for a woman, he would find a way.
She thought she did not need him. But she did. ‘Let me be here for you. Be here for Annie and for her Rosebud. I can be a shoulder to lean on. Perhaps you should learn to share the load.’
Sydney Harbor Hospital: Marco's Temptation Page 11