by Annie O'Neil
‘Right answer.’ Giovanni reached across the table and shook his hand. ‘You’re the one surgeon I know who will put together a team that will make these girls’ lives a reality.’
Putting together a team...
A command to fix whatever it was that was distracting him...
An idea hit. It was mad, but...
Screw it. You only live once.
‘I can bring in anyone?’
Giovanni nodded. ‘It’s going to be a high-profile case for us. We don’t just want the parents fighting for their daughters’ lives. We want them to know we’ve got the entire world crossing their fingers for them. And you know how I feel about crossed fingers.’
Leon laughed. ‘Not necessary if you’ve got a St Nicolino’s team on it.’
They shared a grin.
Leon hitched his fingers onto his hips and feigned a casual air he didn’t quite feel. ‘Have you heard of Dr Elizabeth Beckley?’
Giovanni looked out of the window to where the winter sun was setting in a late-afternoon fanfare of oranges and reds, lighting up the Vatican City on the far side of the river as if by celestial arrangement.
‘Antenatal cardiologist, I’m guessing. British?’
‘Australian,’ Leon explained. ‘One of the best. Antenatal cardiologist, though she’s performed a wide variety of antenatal surgeries across a pretty impressive spectrum of specialties. I’d like to bring her in.’
‘For the HLH surgery? Great.’
‘No,’ Leon corrected. ‘For the rest of the pregnancy.’
There were valid reasons for having a cardiologist on hand throughout the pregnancy. One stent might not do the trick. The twins were joined at the chest and they shared that crucial aortic valve. There were any number of problems that might arise that would require a neonatal cardiologist beyond the HLHS. But having this particular cardiologist here for the duration would be expensive.
Giovanni’s eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing. He was used to surgeons and their big asks, and this was definitely one of them.
‘No one here would be suitable? We do have paediatric cardiologists who live a bit closer to home...’
Leon took the question on the chin. He could see that Giovanni was asking a bigger question here. Would Lizzy solve his little concentration problem or make it worse?
Professionally, of course there were a smattering of surgeons who could do the surgery. Any who could solve the other problem...? Not so much.
‘She and I interned together in New York.’
That was as close as he was going to get to crying on Giovanni’s shoulder and telling him that he’d once had a love life and what had happened was his own damn fault.
Giovanni gave him a slow nod of dawning understanding. ‘Get me the paperwork and we’ll make it happen.’
And just like that Leon felt the so-called Cassanetti Spark pour back into his system.
CHAPTER THREE
A SMILEY FACE.
Lizzy gave the stick a shake, almost willing it to turn into a frown. Nope. Still smiling. Why hadn’t she gone for the one with lines instead? The smiley face felt so...personal. Lines were scientific. Anonymous. Not bright, shiny portents for a future that was suddenly a thousand times more complicated than hers had been three minutes ago.
She leant her head against the cool tiling of the hospital loo wall, willing it to calm the heated storm brewing in every corner of her body. The tiny tempests preparing to surge together to force her to accept what this little stick had already understood very clearly.
She was going to have a baby.
And not just any baby.
She was having Leon Cassanetti’s child.
While the pragmatics of a surprise pregnancy didn’t entirely elude her—women often experienced bleeding that seemed like a period, wrote off other symptoms as tummy trouble or working too hard, until—as had happened today—all the little dots began to connect together into a smiley face.
Her brain fuzzed and whirred and countless futures danced in front of her like film previews, each inviting her to dive in and explore. Not one of them involved a smiley face. None she would let herself believe in anyway.
Leon was... Oh, man. He was a thousand things and none of them all at once. Brilliant. Passionate. Driven. Devoted to his work in a way she’d never seen in any surgeon before or since those two remarkable years in New York. A commitment-phobe. Didn’t want children. Didn’t want a family. Didn’t want her.
But...
Even with all those factors digging little knives into her heart, one thought persisted.
This is your chance.
She’d never let the thought crystallise until now, but somewhere buried deep inside her was a hunger to give a child the kind of carefree, deeply loving, innocent upbringing she’d never enjoyed. A future primed with possibility and hope and, yes, some cautionary notes, but not enough to make her—or him—as shy of relationships as she was.
It wasn’t as if Leon was completely to blame for not falling head over heels for her, asking her to marry him and move to Rome, where the pair of them would live happily ever after, their lives full of surgical triumphs, lovemaking and, as they’d be in Rome, a lot of incredible gelato.
No. She’d fallen in love with the one man in the universe who was absolutely perfect for her apart from the fact he didn’t love her. He’d had his chance. That ridiculous night when she’d told him she loved him.
To this day she still wasn’t a hundred percent certain he’d even heard her. It had been in a busy bar in the middle of Manhattan at the end of their internships. The tequila had been flowing and everyone had been hugging and exchanging addresses and promising to stay in touch. Like a fool, she’d leant towards the man she’d spent the last two years with—either in the operating theatre or in a bed—and said, ‘I love you.’ Nothing more. Nothing less. He’d said nothing, so she’d pretended she’d said nothing.
She’d tell him, of course. About the pregnancy. She had to. Morals. Ethics. Honesty. The triumvirate of principles she clung to in her professional life were stalwarts in her personal life too. Such as it was. Yes. She would tell him. But she’d also be very, very clear... Neither she nor this child would interfere in his life. The only thing she would ask was that his child be able to contact him. She’d like their child to hear it straight from the source why Daddy and Mummy were living separate lives.
Her hand flew, for the first time, to her belly. The protective gesture spoke volumes. She would do whatever it took to ensure Leon Cassanetti never hurt her child the way he’d hurt her—unwittingly or not.
A couple of hours and a lot of regrouping later, Lizzy was standing outside the NICU unit looking at all the tiny lives she’d helped bring into the world when a nurse ran up to her with one of the mobile phones they kept at Reception. Unusual... Normally they took messages.
‘It’s a call for you about a job.’
Her eyebrows went up. Good! ‘A job’ was always code for something difficult, and difficult meant she could temporarily keep her mind off the fact she’d be having a baby in six months’ time.
‘In Italy,’ the nurse whispered, the way one might say chocolate cake.
Lizzy’s hand was shaking as she took the phone.
‘Lizzy?’
Her entire body hummed with nerves as she stood and listened to Leon as he told her about the conjoined twins, the shared aortic valve, the baby with HLHS, and said that he’d be honoured if she’d join him in Rome for the next three months.
‘Sure,’ she said.
She wasn’t capable of saying anything more. Not on the phone. Not when so much was at stake. Not when she knew that the next three months would decide, once and for all, the kind of life her child would lead.
* * *
‘Leon! Great to see you! Whoa! No need for two cheek-kisses—Oop
s... Oh, well...when in Rome...’
That was a little over the top, but in for a penny...
Arch an eyebrow. Pause. Wait for his response.
‘What? Me? No, I look dreadful. Jet lag doesn’t suit my complexion. Leon, listen...’ Lizzy let her features rearrange themselves into the expression she knew her patients saw when the news was serious. ‘I’ve got something important to share right off the bat and I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m pregnant. It’s yours. Just under three months—obviously—so that does mean no flying after a while. Which leads me to logistics. I’m still very keen to play my role with the twins—thank you, by the way, for including me on the team. A real honour... Seriously... But as soon as we safely deliver them I’ll be moving back to Australia.’
Pause. Nod. Furrow brow.
‘Yes, permanently. I’m sure you’ll agree it’s for the best seeing as a girlfriend let alone children aren’t really on your radar, so—’
She watched her mirrored expression falter and then crumple into the confused, strained mess it had been ever since she’d first stared at that positive pregnancy test.
The fact that Leon’s call had come two hours later had shaken a thousand shards of ‘not a coincidence’ into her bloodstream. Her hands pressed one over the other on her stomach. Why did this have to be Leon Cassanetti’s baby? The one man she’d tried and failed to wash out of her hair countless times? So much for her stupid one night of unbridled passion wrapping up that chapter of her life. Now she was going to have to start writing an entirely new book. One with a baby in it.
She cleared her throat and tried to push a bit of confidence through her spine. The man was probably nothing more than a handful of metres away from her right now, so she had to get her act together.
Leon had been nothing less than professional on the call, so she knew her place on his team was solely about the conjoined twins, the boost to his hospital’s profile and, with any luck, her own—although a boost in professional stature wasn’t why she’d agreed to come. Obviously there was a part of her that had said yes out of professional curiosity. But, more crucially, she was here to ensure her child knew where it stood with regard to its father.
Someone to keep at bay for ever? Or someone who wanted to play a role in his or her life? Doubtful, but—unlike Leon—she knew what it was like to have a father in her life, and even though her own father had definitely not set the bar very high she wasn’t going to deny her child access, if that was what the two of them wanted.
She stared at herself, wondering how the hell she’d got herself into this predicament. The two people in the world least equipped to have a baby were having a baby.
If she ever had sex again, the man would have to wear three condoms. Four. Maybe she’d just never have sex again...
Outside the loo she’d locked herself in, she heard the tannoy. The voice was Italian, obviously, and as a result sounded sensual and impassioned with a splash of urgency thrown in. Italian, except when spoken during lovemaking, always sounded as if it were laced with urgency.
The soft, cadenced murmurs of appreciation Leon had whispered into her ear as they had made love at the dawn of the New Year came back to her as viscerally as if he was there with her now, tracing his fingers along the downy soft skin on her cheek, her arms, her belly—
Right. Hashing over the past wasn’t helping anything. Not that sleeping with her ex to get over him had been a particularly brilliant idea either, but what was done was done. The strawberry-sized baby in her belly wasn’t going to be well served by hiding here in the ladies’ room.
She jogged in place for a second, trying to loosen a reminder of why telling him in person had seemed such a good idea.
Because it’s the right thing to do, Lizzy.
She tried to marry her conscience with her frazzled nerves, fixing her reflection with a bright, cheery smile only to watch it morph into a frown. No amount of rehearsing was going to make this any easier. It was rip-the-plaster-off time.
She gave her shoulders a little shake, pinched some colour into her cheeks and forced herself down the corridor.
A few moments later she stood in the doorframe of his office, her body buzzing as if she had one hand on an electric wire and the other on a jackhammer.
He was engrossed in something he was reading on the latest model tablet, looking every bit the Grade-A surgical specialist he’d set out to be in med school. His office was filled with high-tech screens, a pair of stylish yet comfortable-looking leather chairs, a sleek espresso machine—of course—and little else. No old-fashioned piles of paperwork in this hospital.
His hair was a bit longer than when she’d seen it last. His stubble more a ‘nearly midnight’ shadow than a five o’clock one. She must have got the highly groomed version of Leon on New Year’s Eve. This one was a bit more...not free-range, exactly... Maybe feral?
There had always been an animal element about him she couldn’t quite define. An attractive animal element. The poised, tightly controlled sensuality of a tiger on the prowl. How every woman in the world he met didn’t swoon and leave her partner and beg him to be with her for ever was a bit beyond her, but—given what she was about to tell him—it would very possibly remain one of life’s eternal mysteries.
She forced herself to knock on his door. ‘Leon?’
He turned and saw her, his eyes flaring with something hotter than recognition.
‘Lizzy. Come stai?’
He leapt up from his chair, his long legs diminishing the space between them in nanoseconds. His scent enveloped her as he lightly held her by the shoulders and doled out the obligatory Italian cheek-kisses, instantly rendering the pink she’d brought to them with a couple of pinches pointless. Vanilla and something spicy. Whatever it was, it smelt edible.
He held her out at arm’s length. ‘I was just about to send out a search party.’
Ha-ha.
‘No need for that. Here I am.’
Me and your baby.
‘Was the flight all right?’
He peered at her as if he truly cared. Her heart constricted in a way it wasn’t meant to. Did he actually care? It was an angle she hadn’t actively considered. Then again...he always looked as if he cared, no matter the secrets he was hiding.
‘I’ll always think of you with fondness...’
Okay, he was ‘fond’ of her—which was the kind of feeling you had for spinster aunties, which meant he genuinely was asking about her comfort on the flight.
She considered making a crack about the lack of peanuts taking it down a notch, but knew it would be petty and a delaying tactic not worth pursuing, considering a) the professional reason she was here, and b) the personal reason she was here.
So, instead of playing Let’s Engage in Meaningless Chitchat, she skipped all the niceties and forced herself to voice the real reason she’d come.
‘I’m pregnant.’
He shook his head in one short sharp move. As if she’d slapped him.
‘Scusi?’
Remorse washed through her at the coarseness of her reveal. It wasn’t the way she’d have liked to find out that an ex she’d had a one-night stand with was changing her life for ever. Was there even a good way? She didn’t know. This was new to her, too. Even so, she heard herself pour apologies into the charged empty space between them.
‘Sorry, I—I didn’t mean it to be so blunt. I was going to soften the blow—’
His eyes eventually refocused, peering into hers, actively seeking answers to the logjam of questions she presumed were stuck in his throat.
‘It’s mine?’ he asked eventually.
She nodded, her cheeks flaming an even deeper red—because if he’d known anything about her life these past few years he’d know the chances of her being pregnant by anyone else were pretty slim.
‘But we—’
&nbs
p; She nodded. Yes. They had used protection. His, in fact.
He went completely still. An intense motionlessness so powerful it felt as though an invisible, impenetrable energy field had surrounded him. It frightened her to the point that she actually dropped her eyes to his chest to ensure he was still breathing.
When she looked back up he still hadn’t moved, but she could see his eyes darting back and forth, as if he was watching the denouement of a thriller. The moment when the true mastermind of a horrible plot to take over the world was revealed. In this case, she supposed it was her.
He was fact-checking her story, no doubt. She felt herself being swept into the journey he must be reliving. His face had softened. Was he remembering the moment when they’d been able to wait no longer? They’d been in bed, not a scrap of clothing between them. She’d already orgasmed, thanks to the luxurious amount of time he’d taken to reacquaint himself with her body’s erogenous zones—as if their one-night surprise reunion was actually the beginning of a long journey they’d be taking together. With a groan of sheer longing, he’d grabbed his wallet, pulled out a little foil-wrapped packet...
He shook his head as if he was trying to let the facts settle into a new order. One in which he either did or did not make room for her.
‘Come,’ he said eventually, his closed-lipped smile warm but distracted. ‘You must be exhausted. Why don’t I introduce you to the team and then we can get you to your hotel for some rest? Then we start fresh tomorrow, si? The twins’ parents are coming in at nine. We’ll be keeping mamma in from there on out.’
He wasn’t even going to acknowledge it?
Gosh.
Of all the responses she’d prepared herself for, this definitely wasn’t one of them. Anger, joy, confusion... She’d had those bases covered. But full-on denial? Definitely not a reaction the Leon she’d thought she knew would have. He might not be the down-on-bended-knee-with-a-sparkling-ring-to-hand type, but he was a kind man. An honourable man. At least...that was what she’d thought.