Italian Surgeon to the Stars (20 page)

I bent down so I was face to face with Claudia. ‘Sweetie, I’ll see you every day at school. I’m not going anywhere.’

Claudia’s bottom lip wobbled. ‘But I heard Uncle Alessandro say last night I’m going to a new school. I don’t want to go to another school. I want to stay at
your
school.’

Alessandro bent down and put his arm around Claudia’s thin little shoulders. His knees were almost touching mine. This close, I could smell the clean sharp citrus of his aftershave. I could also see a tiny nick on his jaw where he’d cut himself shaving.

A top-notch surgeon who’s cut himself shaving?
I thought. He was definitely having a bad day.

‘If you want to stay at Miss Clark’s school that’s fine,
mio piccolo
,’ he said.

I pushed in Claudia’s pouting bottom lip with my fingertip. ‘No more tears, okay? Everything’s going to work out just fine.’

Alessandro met my gaze. ‘Jem… Can I see you tonight?’

I was conscious of little ears listening eagerly. ‘I think we’ve said all that needs to be said. No point dragging things on unnecessarily.’

His eyes refused to let mine go. The intensity of his gaze made something in my heart give a little jerk.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll say it now. I love you. I fell in love with you that day in Paris, when you spilled the contents of your handbag at my feet.’

Claudia’s little face started to beam and
she clasped her hands together like she was mentally saying a prayer.

I moistened my lips and tried to look casually indifferent.
So what?
I wanted to say.
You obviously don’t love me enough to marry me
. But instead I retreated into one of my stubborn silences.

‘I couldn’t believe I’d found someone so funny, so intelligent, so witty—so perfect for me,’ he went on. ‘I should never have let you go. I’m still not sure why I did. But one thing I do know. I’m not going to do it again. I don’t want to lose you a second time. It would be like losing my future, losing any chance of happiness. I can’t bear to face the rest of my life without you in it. I want to see you every day. I want you to make me laugh every day, with your twisted sense of humour. I want to make
you
laugh. I want to take away the hurts you’ve hidden away for all this time. Will you marry me, my darling?’

I was having trouble seeing past the blurry tears in my eyes. Claudia was looking up at me expectantly. Alessandro was looking at me like a man who was wearing his heart on his sleeve. A tricky manoeuvre even for a top-notch heart surgeon, I thought.

‘What changed your mind?’ I asked.

I’m all for a bit of grovelling. I figured he owed me that much after the hellish nights without sleep I’d been through. Make that five years of hellish nights.

‘I went back to my house last night,’ he said. ‘That great old empty shell of a house I’m spending so much money and time and effort on—but for what? What’s the point of me making it into something special when I have no one special to share it with? My
life’s
like an empty shell without you in it. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life without you. The last five years have been bad enough. I know it’s hard to juggle stuff, but other people seem to manage. We’ll find a way to manage.
I’ll
find a way. Please say yes. Please say you’ll marry me.’

My heart was so full of love and joy it was leaving me little room to breathe. I’m pretty sure my face was radiant with happiness. I figured it wouldn’t matter if the sun never came out again. I was doing its job for it. Everyone would be blaming
me
for global warming before too long.

‘I’ve always wanted a man to get down on bended knee to propose to me,’ I said. ‘I didn’t realise I’d be on bended knee as well, with half the street watching.’

Alessandro grinned. ‘Are the curtains twitching?’

‘Numbers four to ten,’ I said. ‘Number three and seven are out on their front steps.’

His brow suddenly wrinkled in puzzlement. ‘How do you know when you’ve got your back to them?’

Actually, I had no idea how I knew. Freaky!

‘A wild guess,’ I said.

‘Then we’d better not disappoint them,’ he said. ‘Will you do me the honour of being my wife and the mother of my children?’

‘
And
being my aunty!’ Claudia piped up.

I laughed and cuddled her close—which brought me even closer to Alessandro, so our mouths were just about touching. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes, to both of you.’

Alessandro’s mouth sealed mine. Claudia’s little rosebud lips kissed my cheek and then his. Moistly. Noisily. My mother was going to
love
this little kid, I thought.

My neighbours clapped and cheered.

Our kiss went on for such a long time even Claudia got fed up.

She tapped each of us on the shoulder. ‘Aren’t you finished
yet
?’ she said, eyes rolling.

Alessandro cupped my face in his hands,
his dark brown gaze glinting. ‘I’m just getting started,’ he said.

My phone rang before he could kiss me again. I know. Crap timing. I
knew
it was my mother. Don’t ask me how. Maybe I
am
a little psychic.

‘Mum,’ I said. ‘I have something to tell you—’

‘I know, poppet,’ my mother said. ‘You’re getting married.’

‘How on earth do you know
that
?’ I asked, glancing at Alessandro again to see if he was responsible. But he gave a ‘beats me’ gesture with his upturned hands.

It kind of showed how much he ‘got’ my parents. They would have been appalled if he’d gone to ask my father for my hand in marriage. How I would get my father to give me away was going to be an exercise in diplomacy or bribery…or something. Then there was the issue of getting my parents inside a church…

Yikes
. Fun times ahead.

‘I had a vision last night,’ my mother said. ‘You were wearing this gorgeous white taffeta and tulle dress and you had a little girl with dark hair and big brown eyes as your flower girl.’

I smiled at Claudia and whispered, ‘Will you be my flower girl?’

Her little face lit up like a beacon.
‘Yes!’

But there was one person my mother left out of her vision.

Five months later I had
two
bridesmaids, as well as a flower girl—my sister, Bertie, and Alessandro’s sister Bianca.

I couldn’t have asked for more.

* * * * *

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ISBN-13: 9781460383353

Italian Surgeon to the Stars

Copyright © 2015 by Melanie Milburne

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