Her Brooding Italian Surgeon (7 page)

Bec's hand flew to her throat. ‘Oh, no. I heard that's really bad for pregnant women.'

Abbie grimaced. ‘Penny's extremely ill and we might need to evacuate her to Melbourne if her condition deteriorates any further. I'm also worried about the other residents so I need you to contact everyone and get them back here so I can examine them.'

Bec nodded. ‘OK. Most of them went on a picnic but they're due back because of the canoeing, which I guess you'll be cancelling?'

‘Postponing, at any rate.' She smiled a half smile. ‘Let's have a quick cup of tea and a biscuit and I'll brief you so you can answer the residents' questions. Then we'll turn one of the bedrooms into a clinic and get to work. We're going to be flat out for a couple of hours at least.'

She heard the siren of the ambulance fading into the distance. Leo would be flat out working too.

 

Leo squinted into the glare of the early evening summer sun and watched the air-ambulance helicopter lift off, the down-draught of the blades swirling the red outback dust into the air. It had been a hellish three hours—every second testing all of his medical knowledge. As a surgeon he was at the top of his field but surgery wasn't what Penny needed.

Murphy, who'd been pressed up against his legs, barked as a familiar white four-wheel-drive turned into the car park and came to an abrupt stop. Abbie jumped out of the vehicle and ran over, her curls bouncing and the wind whipping her plain T-shirt close against her chest.

Leo groaned as his body immediately reacted to her perfectly outlined breasts and perky nipples. The woman was a fashion disaster but if she thought those clothes hid her delicious curves then she was living in la-la land.

‘Is that Penny?' Abbie yelled the words over the roar of the engine.

The helicopter banked and headed south, the noise decreasing.

He plunged his hands into the pockets of his white coat, the lapping waters of despair threatening to spill over. ‘Yeah.'

‘Oh, hell.' Abbie caught his gaze, her mild expletive underplaying the anguish on her face.

The same anguish that filled him. ‘Erin and I did everything we could but she didn't regain consciousness. Her breathing became increasingly laboured and we were worried she'd arrest, so we ventilated her.' He ran his hand through his hair. ‘God, I haven't done that since I was a resident. She didn't need a surgeon; she needed a respiratory physician and an obstetrician.'

Abbie shook her head sharply. ‘She needed a doctor and she was lucky to have you. Did you consult using the Virtual Trauma and Critical Care Service?'

Her hand touched his arm, her skin warm against his own and her assurance floated through him. ‘It was odd talking to my colleagues in Melbourne on a screen but thank goodness for broadband technology. With her pregnancy and the risk of multi-system organ failure, Penny's best chance is in their level one ICU.'

Abbie bit her lip. ‘And the baby?'

A familiar hot pain burned under his ribs at his powerlessness in the situation. ‘She'd started having contractions so we administered Nifedipine but at twenty-six weeks you know as well as I do that it'll be touch and go.'

Abbie's sigh visibly trembled through her body. ‘Poor Alec.'

He automatically slung his arm around her shoulder in a gesture of support. ‘Alec's doing well. He's got an IV in, he's rehydrating and his nausea's under control. We'll monitor him but I think after twenty-four hours of Tamiflu he'll be a different kid.'

‘But his world is already upside down and now his mother is fighting for her life.' The doctor had vanished. Instead, a hurting woman stood in front of him with the vestiges of a child clinging to her like cobwebs. The familiar shadows that sometimes haunted her eyes had scudded neatly back into place like the dark clouds that heralded bad weather. Then her shoulders sagged and her head swayed, until it finally lost the battle to stay upright and her forehead brushed his shoulder.

An overwhelming surge of protection unlike anything he'd known in years exploded inside him and his hand reached to touch her soft curls. A touch devoid of lust and totally removed from desire. He only wanted to reassure her, murmur into her ear that things would be OK, but most of all he wanted to send those shadows scattering. But this was real life and none of those things were possible. Instead, he held her tight and lowered his face into her hair, breathing in her strawberry scent, soaking up her softness, her spirit and her strength.

Murphy's wet nose nuzzled between them, followed by a bark of,
Hey, what about me?

Abbie stepped back and Leo dropped his hand, still struggling with the unexpected mix of emotions and glad that Abbie was distracted with her dog rather than turning her all-seeing gaze onto him.

She put her hand on Murphy's head. ‘Hey, boy. It's OK; Leo's not all bad.' Then she raised her questioning green eyes to Leo. ‘Why is Murphy here?'

He confessed, ‘I borrowed him.'

‘Why?'

‘I thought Alec could use a friend.'

A slow smile wove across her smattering of freckles, lighting up her face, and then she started to move her head from side to side in a disbelieving yet resigned way. ‘And let me guess? You called Jennifer Danforth in paediatrics
cara
, produced a box of Baci Italian chocolate kisses, told her that you knew she'd understand that, given the circumstances, Alec needed a buddy and then she let you bring a dog into her pristine ward.'

What the–?
He tried hard not to look as stunned as he felt. How could she possibly have known? Yet Abbie had just outlined in perfect detail exactly what he'd done to get Murphy past Demon Danforth. He shrugged and grinned. ‘Hey, it worked.'

Her forefinger shot into his chest. ‘Well, you owe me, Casanova. I've been trying to get a companion dog into the hospital for months and that woman has blocked it on every turn.'

He gave her a smug look. ‘Did you try chocolate?'

She raised one brow. ‘No, but without a sex-change operation and fluency in Italian, I doubt that one would have worked for me.' Her finger jabbed him hard in the sternum. ‘So, before you leave, I want an approved companion pet programme policy with Jennifer's signature on it.'

He gave her a mock salute and a wink. ‘Yes, ma'am.'

‘Good.' But her sergeant major voice had faded to a warm and friendly tone and she dropped her hand to her pager. ‘Everything's quiet at the moment so does Murphy have time for a “W” before he has to report for duty?'

The dog's golden-brown eyes moved back and forth between the two of them saying,
I recognise euphemisms, you fools,
and his tail started wagging enthusiastically.

He fondled the dog's ears. ‘Sure.'

She hesitated and then cleared her throat before asking, ‘Do you want to come too? It's been a hellish afternoon and we could exercise and debrief at the same time.'

The completely unexpected invitation made him smile. ‘That's probably a good idea.'

‘Great. Let's go, then.' She turned to cross the car park, Murphy pulling on the lead as he headed towards the river path.

The river path
. Leo's muscles tensed and his hand shot to his chin. Every part of him screamed to stay put. But he'd already refused the canoeing and if he refused this walk after he'd already committed to it, he knew Abbie would start asking questions. Questions he didn't want to answer.

He made a fast decision. He'd go on the walk and he'd ask questions to keep hers at bay. With every ounce of determination that had got him into medical school and had pushed him up the gruelling surgical career ladder, he fell into step beside her, resolving to find out why an eleven-year-old boy's plight had brought the shadows back into her eyes when other patients had not.

The walking path was as popular and as crowded as the river. Houseboats chugged along overtaken by water-skiers crisscrossing behind speedboats. The high-pitched ‘toot' of the horn of a paddle steamer could be heard in the distance, a far more pleasant sound than the buzz of the closer and louder jet-ski. On the path, tourists walked with their families, locals with or without dogs strolled and a gaggle of giggling teenage girls eyed a group of teenage boys. Everyone was out just as they were in Italy for
passeggiata
and catching the cool breeze off the river on a hot summer evening.

The first part of the walk was spent nodding and smiling to people as they passed, commenting on the weather, chatting about dogs, until they got beyond the main part of town where the path narrowed and the bush thickened.

A flash of memory—mallee scrub, dark water and ancient trees—flickered unfocused in his mind and he steeled himself to keep the image sealed away. He felt Abbie's gaze on him and he dug deep, forcing the muscles of his mouth to lift in a smile. ‘Remind me never to come along here if I want time to myself.'

‘It's pretty popular and why not? It's so pretty.' She gazed across the brown sparkling water and then licked her lips, the moisture clinging to them making a rosy red.

‘Yeah, it's pretty.'

But she missed the real meaning of his words and just smiled at him as a co-conspirator of two people enjoying the view. A view that sliced into him deeply every time he saw it, reminding him of what he'd lost and the trauma that had followed.

She turned back from the river, a genuine smile on her lips that raced straight to her amazingly expressive eyes. ‘I know I just gave you a hard time about charming Jennifer Danforth so Murphy could visit the ward, but thanks. It was a lovely idea and you were really great with Alec when Penny collapsed.'

The praise warmed him, pushing the memories away. ‘It must be pretty terrifying for him with his mother so ill and I'm gathering his father's out of the picture?'

Abbie tugged on Murphy's lead as he strained forward wanting to chase some little pied cormorants. ‘I only met Penny and Alec for the first time today but generally the fact a woman and her child are staying at the refuge means the father's not in the picture.'

He shoved his hands in his pockets, working hard to sound casual as the lapping of the water ate into him. ‘Because of violence?'

‘Perhaps. Not always. Sometimes women are abandoned or left destitute and they need the support of the refuge to get on their feet again.' This time it was her turn to stare straight ahead and her mouth flattened into a grim line. ‘
Some
men can be bastards.'

The guttural vitriol in her voice surprised him. Although she'd refused every invitation he'd offered, they'd worked together well and he'd only ever observed respect from her towards Justin and the male paramedics so he didn't have her pegged as a man-hater. And damn it, but the kiss they'd shared made a mockery out of that thought. She'd melted into his arms and kissed him with the expertise of a woman who knew what she wanted out of a kiss and how to get it. ‘Perhaps you're getting a skewed view from working at the refuge.'

‘Hah!'

The harsh sound echoed back on the breeze and Leo heard the pain. Pain and shadows.

Her voice rose, agitation clearly edging the words. ‘You saw the bruising on Penny's chest and you heard how Alec behaved more like he was the parent than the child. That poor kid has needed to grow up way too fast under a roof of uncertainty.'

The shadows in her eyes darkened as she gripped Murphy's lead hard, her knuckles turning white. ‘Some men treat women and children like chattels instead of people, disposing of them when they've had enough. They destroy women's lives and leave kids in terrible situations, putting them at risk of it happening all over again.'

The trembling pain in her voice was unmistakable and again he wanted to hold her tight but he instinctively knew that would be the wrong thing to do. What he did know was this reaction was no longer about Alec—it was all about her. He'd bet money on it that it was connected in some way to why she mostly tried to hold herself aloof from him.

‘Who left you, Abbie?'

A
BBIE'S
breath stalled in her throat as Warrior Abbie, who'd been caught napping, frantically pulled on her armour and tried to get her act together.
Who left you, Abbie?
His words hailed down on her with unerring accuracy. How did he know? How had he worked out that everything that had happened this afternoon had brought back in horrifying waves the painful memories of her time with Greg and the insecurity of her childhood?

Still, just because that had happened was no reason to talk about it. If she'd learned anything it was that it was best to just ‘get on' with things. She tilted her chin skyward and pursed her lips. ‘We're talking about Penny and Alec, and refuge clients in general, not me.'

Mensa-bright eyes looked sceptical. ‘Except there's something about their situation that's got to you.'

Denial shot to her lips as her heart thundered hard against her ribs. ‘No, it hasn't.'

‘I think it has. You're pretty upset and it might help to talk about it.'

Guileless care and concern sat on his handsome face, tempting her to spill her guts and yet terrifying her at the same time. ‘I'm so not having a heart-to-heart with
you.
'

‘Why not?' He smiled a warm and friendly captivating smile. ‘I've been told I'm a very good listener.'

‘I'm sure you have.' The moment the cheap shot left her mouth she regretted it.

His jaw tightened, pulling the edges of his mouth downward. ‘Abbie, if that comment's to do with me dating a lot of women then let's get something straight—I'm always honest and up front with them. I'm after fun and good times and I never make a promise I can't keep. So don't confuse me with badly behaved men.'

His clear dark gaze seared her as his honesty and integrity circled him, making a mockery of her determination to cast him in the same light as her father. As Greg. She bit her lip, realising she'd just been grossly unfair. Taking out her hurt on him was unwarranted. He was only trying to be a supportive colleague and, hell, she'd been the one who had said,
Let's debrief
. She clearly hadn't thought
that one
through.

She let Murphy lead her down onto a sandy beach. It continued to surprise her that there was golden sand like this so far inland but she wasn't complaining. Murphy barked and she released him from the lead, watching him tear off into the shallows, ever hopeful of catching an ibis. She turned and, with a start, she realised Leo hadn't followed her. He remained standing on the higher bank, his hand rubbing the scar on his chin—something she'd seen him do on and off since she'd met him and usually when he was tense. Damn, but she'd really hurt his feelings.

She trudged back towards him and stood looking up at him, catching his gaze. She'd expected to see anger but it wasn't there. Instead, a mix of undecipherable emotions seemed to be tumbling over each other with no clear delineation but she caught pain. She called out, ‘I'm sorry. You're right; today hasn't been easy.'

He held her gaze for a moment longer and a part of her ached. Then, like sunlight breaking through clouds, his eyes cleared and in three strides he was by her side and she was left wondering if she'd imagined the whole thing.

‘I shouldn't have lashed out at you; it's just there's too much of my story in Alec's and Penny's and I hate it when I see that it's still happening.' She sat down on the sand and leaned back against a fallen red-gum bough.

Leo lowered himself down next to her in a stiff and uncoordinated way before finally stretching his legs out in front of him.

Funny how all his movements were usually so fluid and he could glide out of a hammock but he couldn't lower himself onto the sand without looking as if all his limbs were overly long.

‘Do you and Alec share a father leaving?'

He was far too perceptive and, as much as she wanted to stay silent on the entire topic, she knew she'd lost the battle to keep her story to herself. She'd already had to apologise and if they were to continue to work together as a cohesive team she needed to tell him, otherwise it would hang around like an elephant in the room, affecting their working relationship.

Her palm dug into the sand and then she raised her hand, letting the tiny particles run through her fingers as her mind released her memories. ‘My father was a charming but controlling man and he dropped in and out of my life. My mother finally left him when I was ten but the legacy of him never left us.'

A restrained kind of tension lined Leo's shoulders but his expression was one of sympathy duelling with interest. ‘How much of it do you remember?'

She stared straight ahead. ‘I remember the fear. I remember the routine my mother had before he came home every night,
a sort of ritual. She believed if she followed it to the letter it would mean the evening would be pleasant. She'd make dinner and I'd set the table. Then she'd go to her room, reapply her make-up, change into a pretty dress and insist on brushing my hair. After that we'd wait.'

‘Wait for what?' Two lines furrowed down at the bridge of his nose.

We have to look pretty for Daddy so he loves us.
She tugged at her now short hair as the memory of the plastic brush snagging through her long hair made her scalp prickle. ‘We'd wait for my father. On a good night he'd barrel through the door, twirl me around and call me his princess. He'd compliment my mother's cooking and after dinner he'd crank up the music, grab my mother around her waist and they'd dance through the house.'

‘And on a bad night?' Leo's hand spilled sand close to hers.

She glanced at him, expecting to see the prying look that people got when they heard a story so at odds with their preconceived ideas of who she was and where she'd come from, but the only thing she saw was understanding. ‘A storm cloud would enter the house and we'd be on high alert cyclone watch, just like Port Headland was last week. Will it hit or will it blow past and miss us? It was terrifying even when he didn't hit us because the fear was always there.'

‘I can't even imagine what that would be like.' He spoke quietly. ‘We're Italian and, believe me, my parents can yell and argue with the best of them, but there was never any fear in the house.' His eyes lit up with a memory. ‘Usually Anna did something crazy which distracted them and it blew over very quickly. Did you have a brother or sister to share this with?'

She shook her head. ‘Just me.'

‘Sorry.' His fingers skated across the back of her hand in the lightest caress before falling back to the sand.

Heat roared through her and self-loathing filled her. His touch was one of understanding and friendship. Only she could put a sexual tinge on it and, heaven help her, hadn't she learned anything from her life? From Greg? She blew out a breath and fixed her gaze on the peeling bark of a tree on the opposite bank and forced the words to keep coming.

‘One night he hit Mum so badly he fractured her ribs. The next day when I was at school a taxi arrived with Mum in it. She'd packed one bag for the both of us and we went into supported accommodation.'

Her eyes burned from staring at the tree but she didn't dare look at Leo. She didn't want to see pity in his eyes—she'd seen that too often over the years from too many people, which was why she kept her story buried deep.

‘And you took care of your mother. Just like Alec was doing today.'

She gave a silent nod, letting his deep voice wash over her with its startling insight. She turned towards him, suddenly needing to see his face. Not a trace of pity marked his cheeks, only admiration and respect.
He gets it
. The realisation jolted her and Warrior Abbie laid down her shield, although her fingers stayed close to it. The tightness in her chest slowly slackened and an unexpected peace rolled through her, seeping into places that hadn't experienced calm in a long time. Yet again, Abbie had just glimpsed another side to Leo Costa. He confused her so much with his multi-facets, making her question what she believed, but most of all it made her wonder why was he hiding behind all that superficial charm when there was so much more to him.

‘So did things settle down for you and your mother?'

She shrugged. ‘Not really. We got out of the refuge and got set up again. Mum got a job and had a few boyfriends who always seemed to arrive with presents and leave us with debt.
I craved stability but, by sixteen, I realised Mum wasn't able to give me that. I knew then I had to find it for myself and make a life so I was never dependent on anyone ever again. I got a scholarship to university and studied medicine. People always need doctors, right?' She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. She'd had enough talking about herself.

Leo watched her eyes and tried to read them. His own childhood had been carefree in comparison to hers and at that precise moment he totally understood her self-containment. Anyone who'd lived a roller coaster childhood of over-indulgence followed by abandonment would be very wary of people. Of men.

But she kissed you
. The memory of their kiss hadn't dimmed at all. It stayed so strong and clear inside him—a kiss that told the story of an incredibly sensual woman, someone who'd had some experience. The women he most enjoyed being with were totally independent and relationship-free but still staked their claim for a healthy sex life. But in the last few days he'd dropped enough hints to Abbie that he was open to some fun and good times that there was no way she could have missed them. Nothing he had said or done had lowered her major ‘road block' signs; in fact she'd done everything she possibly could do to shut him out. And it wasn't because she wasn't attracted to him—tangible lust close to the point of combustion burned between them at every meeting and, had their kiss been anywhere else, sex would have followed.

Lust is just a nuisance that can be controlled.

So I was never dependent on anyone ever again.

Her sweet voice replayed in his head and it was like someone switching on a lamp and illuminating a dark corner. Right then he knew exactly what he had to ask. ‘And have you been?'

She glanced up from the sand, confusion creasing her brow into a row of deep lines. ‘Been what?'

‘Dependent on anyone again?'

She rolled her plump lips inward and a shudder ricocheted across her shoulders, down her torso and into the sand. Without thinking, his fingers moved to slide between hers, needing to give her some support, needing to feel connected to her in some way.

She pulled her hand away and fisted it into her lap. ‘Let me put it this way; I had the usual casual and fun uni flings everyone has in the first and second year before they grow up. Then I had a relationship that ran off the rails at six months. But it was well after that I had one serious lapse in judgement which cured me for life.'

I hate what you've done to me
. Memories of Christina bubbled up inside him and he spoke before thinking. ‘Don't be too hard on yourself. I had one of those.'

Her head jerked up. ‘I can't imagine you being dependent on anyone.'

Her accurate words whipped him. She was right; he'd never been dependent on anyone but people had been dependent on him. Dom. Christina. He'd failed them both. ‘I meant a relationship that cured me for life. I got married at nineteen.'

Her eyes shot open so wide it was like looking into a tropical pool. ‘You…I…you're divorced?'

Regret at telling her clawed him because it opened him up to questions like why he'd married his brother's girlfriend. Questions he didn't want to answer. ‘Yep.'

Her astonishment slowly faded, replaced with a knowing look. ‘I bet Maria wasn't happy about that.'

The corner of his mouth jerked and he took the segue with open arms. ‘That would be the understatement of the century, but we all make mistakes.'

She nodded in agreement. ‘Oh, yeah, and Greg was my ultimate. I'd got through the gruelling years, I'd qualified and was working in Adelaide.'

Relief flooded him. He'd managed to divert her. ‘Financially and emotionally independent?'

‘For a short time, yes. I think I'd been working so hard since third year that I'd forgotten how to have fun. When I finally raised my head up to look around at the world, there was Greg, a silver-tongued actor who told me what I wanted to hear.'

For some unknown reason, Leo really wanted to reassure her. ‘We're all susceptible to that.'

‘Yeah?' Sceptical green eyes flashed at him. ‘Well, given how I'd seen all my security disappear again and again as a kid, I should have known better but I stupidly fell hard for the cliché of the happy-ever-after dream. He moved in, I chose china patterns. We shopped and nested and I was the happiest I'd ever been in my life.'

‘So what happened?' Half of him wanted to know; the other half didn't want her to relive what he knew would be painful.

‘Piece by tiny piece over two years and under the guise of love, he dismantled my independence and, dear God, I let him.' Her ragged sigh reverberated between them. ‘After what “the experts” would call the “honeymoon period” his charm started fading and the insidious controlling behaviour came out. He needed me to be with him when I wasn't at work, he didn't pass on messages, he chose my clothes, and he decided where we went and who we visited. Every time I started to question this he'd revert to the man I'd first met and convince me I was over-tired from working too hard, that after a good night's sleep I'd understand I was being unreasonable. He had me second-guessing myself to the point of going crazy.'

‘Bastardo.'
Pure white anger surged through Leo.

She mustered a small wry smile. ‘Exactly. The day he hit me I told him to leave. I went to work and when I came home that night the apartment was empty. Utterly empty. He'd taken everything, including the mothballs in the linen press.'