Saving His Little Miracle

She glanced at him, feeling tears spring to her eyes when she saw the expression on his face.

That he was deeply moved by his first sight of their child wasn’t in doubt, and something inside her seemed to open up at the thought. For five long years she had tried her best to blank out the memory of that night. Now she realised that it would be impossible not to think about it.

She and Vincenzo had made love that night, and by doing so they had created this precious child—a child who desperately needed their help if she was to survive. While she had always been prepared to do whatever was necessary to save Megan, she had never expected that Vincenzo would feel the same.

She bit her lip as a wave of panic swamped her. Maybe the situation hadn’t changed. Maybe it was still the same in many ways. However, knowing that Vincenzo cared what happened to Megan made a world of difference to how she felt about him. Making love again with Vincenzo wouldn’t be merely a means to an end now. It would be so much more…

Dear Reader

Last year I was fortunate enough to enjoy a holiday in the Italian Lakes. I stayed in a beautiful old villa, which had been converted into a hotel, overlooking Lake Garda. It was the perfect spot for a holiday and I thoroughly enjoyed exploring the area.

One day when I was taking the ferry across the lake I spotted a young couple with their child. They were such an attractive family, although it was obvious that the little boy had been ill. They were on the ferry again when I set off back to Garda later that afternoon and I got talking to the child’s mother, who turned out to be English. She told me that they were having a holiday with her in-laws. Her son had been extremely ill, and they were hoping that fresh air and sunshine would help him regain his strength. We parted company soon afterwards, but what she told me stayed with me and triggered the idea for this book: what lengths would a woman go to if it meant she could save her child?

I really enjoyed writing Lowri’s and Vincenzo’s story. They are two strong characters who met by chance and now find themselves united in their desire to save their child. What neither expects is that they will find themselves falling in love during the process!

I hope you enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Best wishes to you all

Jennifer Taylor

Saving His Little Miracle

Jennifer Taylor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JENNIFER TAYLOR lives in the north-west of England, in a small village surrounded by some really beautiful countryside. She has written for several different Mills & Boon^® series in the past, but it wasn’t until she read her first Medical Romance™ that she truly found her niche. She was so captivated by these heart-warming stories that she set out to write them herself! When she’s not writing, or doing research for her latest book, Jennifer’s hobbies include reading, gardening, travel, and chatting to friends both on and off-line. She is always delighted to hear from readers, so do visit her website at www.jennifer-taylor.com

Recent titles by Jennifer Taylor:

MR RIGHT ALL ALONG

THE MOTHERHOOD MIX-UP

THE REBEL WHO LOVED HER*

THE SON THAT CHANGED HIS LIFE*

THE FAMILY WHO MADE HIM WHOLE*

GINA’S LITTLE SECRET

SMALL TOWN MARRIAGE MIRACLE

THE MIDWIFE’S CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

THE DOCTOR’S BABY BOMBSHELL**

THE GP’S MEANT-TO-BE BRIDE**

MARRYING THE RUNAWAY BRIDE**

THE SURGEON’S FATHERHOOD SURPRISE†

*Bride’s Bay Surgery

**Dalverston Weddings

†Brides of Penhally Bay

These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dedication

For Vicky, a wonderful mother and a wonderful daughter too.

Praise for Jennifer Taylor:

‘A superbly written tale of hope, redemption and forgiveness, THE SON WHO CHANGED HIS LIFE is a first-class contemporary romance that plumbs deep into the heart of the human spirit and touches the soul.’

—CataRomance.com

‘Powerful, compassionate and poignant, THE SON WHO CHANGED HIS LIFE is a brilliant read from an outstanding writer who always delivers!’

—CataRomance.com

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

HAD SHE MADE a mistake by coming here?

Lowri Davies took a deep breath as she watched the taxi drive away. It was too late to be having second thoughts at this stage. If there had been another option open to her, she would have taken it months ago. However, the fact was that Vincenzo was the only person who could help her.

If he would.

A shiver ran through her at the thought of what she was going to ask him to do. It might have been easier if she’d had some idea of how he would react but she knew too little about him to predict his response. All they’d had were those few weeks together and it hadn’t been enough to get to know what sort of a person he really was. Would he agree or would he refuse to get involved? The fact that he hadn’t replied to her letter didn’t bode well but she couldn’t let that deter her. She needed his help, needed it desperately if she hoped to save Megan!

Lifting her hand, Lowri pressed the button on the intercom speaker. The villa was huge, much bigger than she had expected it would be. Built on the hillside overlooking the glittering waters of Lake Garda, it was an imposing property. Through the ornate wrought-iron gates she could see immaculately tended grounds and grimaced. Although it had been apparent even from the brief time they had spent together that Vincenzo was wealthy, she hadn’t realised just how rich he was.

A house like this must cost a small fortune to maintain, and then there was his apartment in an exclusive part of Milan as well. Even a top surgeon like Vincenzo couldn’t afford two such properties on his salary. He had to have private means, family money that helped to pay for this kind of luxurious lifestyle. The thought was unsettling. The last thing she wanted was him thinking that she was after his money.

‘Sì?’

The sound of a deeply masculine voice coming through the speaker made her jump. Lowri pressed her hand to her racing heart. It was five years since she had seen Vincenzo and she’d not had any contact with him since yet she had no difficulty recognising his voice. It was as though it had imprinted itself into her brain and lain there, dormant, for all that time. Now all of a sudden it had awoken a lot of memories, especially of that last night they had spent together...

‘Vincenzo, it’s Lowri,’ she said quickly, not wanting to go down that route. Nothing would change what had happened that night, the same as it wouldn’t change what had happened afterwards. She and Vincenzo had slept together and there had been unforeseen consequences.

‘Lowri?’

He repeated her name, his voice holding the faintest hint of puzzlement, and Lowri felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Had he forgotten her, erased her so completely from his memory that he didn’t even recognise her name? If truth be told, she was probably just one of many women he had slept with. No more and no less than that.

‘Lowri Davies,’ she said, feeling her temper inch its way up the scale. Maybe she was merely another notch on his bedpost but he could hardly claim not to remember her after that letter she had sent him. It made her wonder if it was all an act aimed at getting rid of her. Well, if that was the case, he was in for a shock.

‘You must remember me, Vincenzo. Whilst I’m sure there’ve been a lot of women in your life, I doubt if many have written to tell you they were expecting your child.’ She gave a brittle little laugh. ‘Does that ring any bells?’

* * *

Vincenzo Lombardi felt the air rush from his lungs. Just for a moment, he stood stock still and stared at the entryphone. Was this some sort of a sick joke?

Oh, he remembered her all right, remembered her far better than he would have expected. All they’d had were those few weeks yet he could recall with perfect clarity every second of the time they had spent together. He closed his eyes, surprised by the speed with which he conjured up her image: light brown hair falling softly to her shoulders; hazel eyes that could turn from green to gold according to her mood. Her body had been slender but womanly with full breasts and a narrow waist.

His own body gave its pronouncement on that memory and his eyes shot open. What in heaven’s name was he doing? He should be focusing on what she had said, not on how he had felt when they had made love.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, signorina. If this is some sort of a joke then it is in very poor taste.’

‘It isn’t a joke. I wrote to you a couple of months after we’d spent that night together, as soon as I discovered I was pregnant, in fact. Are you claiming that you never received my letter?’

The scorn in her voice made his face burn. Vincenzo stared at the receiver again, stunned that she could have this effect on him. It had been years since he had blushed, years since he had felt anything akin to shame. He had trained himself not to show his emotions, not to feel them most of the time even. He knew that his colleagues at the hospital in Milan considered him to be cold and arrogant but it didn’t worry him. In his view, it was better to be in control than to suffer all the emotional traumas they did.

‘I am not claiming anything, signorina. I never received any letter from you. That is a fact. Now, I’m sorry but I don’t have the time to continue this discussion.’

Vincenzo replaced the receiver in its rest. Picking up the towel that he had tossed over the back of a chair, he headed to the bathroom. He had overdone things today and his body was aching from the punishing routine he had put it through, but the only way he was going to regain full fitness was by pushing himself. It had been six months since the skiing accident that had caused such havoc in his life and he needed to step up his training if he hoped to get back into Theatre. Surgery was his raison d’être, the thing that gave him the most pleasure. He couldn’t imagine how empty his life would be if he couldn’t do it any more.

The sound of the intercom buzzing brought him up short. Vincenzo swung round and glared at the receiver. So she hadn’t gone away. She was still here, still intent on perpetuating that ridiculous lie. Tossing the towel onto the floor, he strode out of the room, determined that he was going to put an end to this situation. He had no idea why she had decided to come here and make that ridiculous claim but he wasn’t going to be a party to it. If Lowri Davies had had a child, it certainly wasn’t his!

She was standing outside the gates when Vincenzo left the house and he slowed when he saw her. All of a sudden he felt the need to prepare himself and it was a surprise to feel that way. His confidence was legendary, his self-assurance absolute. He always knew what to do even when presented with the most difficult of situations, yet for some reason he felt unsure about how to handle this.

After all, there had to be a reason why she had come here today. It had been five years since he had seen her and if she’d had a child in that time, he or she must be at least four years old. So why had she left it until now to make that claim about him being the father? Intuition warned him that there was more to her visit than first appeared, although he had no idea what it might be. He would have to rely on his instincts to deal with this and if there was one thing Vincenzo hated it was trusting to luck. He preferred his life to be free of surprises, mapped out to the nth degree. That way there was less chance of him getting hurt.

The thought stunned him, mainly because it was the first time he had admitted that he might be vulnerable in any way. Vincenzo’s mouth thinned as he strode down the path. Maybe his self-control wasn’t as absolute as he had believed, but it was good enough to deal with this unwelcome intrusion. It made no difference why Lowri Davies had come to see him. Whatever her motives were, he had no intention of being manipulated!

* * *

Lowri could feel her heart pounding as she watched Vincenzo stride down the path. That he was less than pleased to see her was obvious but she wouldn’t let that deter her. In a fast sweep her eyes ran over him, taking stock of the changes the past five years had wrought.

Physically he had changed very little, she decided. His black hair was as thick and lustrous as ever, his skin gleaming with good health and vitality. He was wearing black running shorts cut high at the sides with a black vest and she could see that his body was still taut and honed.

It was only as he drew closer that she realised how much older he looked, older and even more self-contained. There had always been an aloofness about him, a tendency to distance himself from other people, and it was more apparent than ever these days. He looked cold and remote and far from happy about her turning up like this but it was hard luck. She didn’t care how he felt. She only cared about what he could do for Megan.

‘I don’t know why you’ve come here and I don’t wish to know either. However, let me make myself clear: if you’ve had a child, Signorina Davies, it has nothing to do with me.’

Lowri had to stop herself taking a step back as he stared at her through the gate. The coldness in his eyes was far more intimidating than anger would have been. Vincenzo had always been in control. Even though she had known him only for a short time, she had soon realised that he kept his emotions on a very tight rein—apart from that night when they had made love.

The thought sent a rush of heat through her and Lowri shuddered. She had tried not to think about that night. It had seemed pointless dwelling on it, foolish to imagine that it had meant anything to Vincenzo when his subsequent actions had proved that it hadn’t.

They had slept together for comfort, out of mutual need even, but that was all. It hadn’t been the start of something, neither had she wanted it to be. She had been in a bad place at the time, still struggling to come to terms with her ex-fiancé’s deception, and that was why she had slept with Vincenzo...

Wasn’t it?

The thought brought her up short. Lowri realised that she was in danger of allowing herself to be sidetracked and that would never do. She had come here for one reason and one reason alone—to help Megan. Their daughter. She squared her shoulders in readiness for the battle that lay ahead. Even though Vincenzo might refuse to accept that Megan was his child, there was no doubt in Lowri’s mind about her daughter’s parentage.

‘She. We have a daughter, Vincenzo. Her name is Megan and she was four years old in March.’

Opening her bag, Lowri took out the first of the photographs she had brought with her, her heart aching as she looked at her daughter’s smiling face and recalled how different Megan had looked yesterday when she had left her with her sister, Cerys. She didn’t care what Vincenzo thought about her, didn’t care if his life was about to be disrupted either. She only cared about this child they had created. Saving Megan was the most important thing of all.

Her eyes met his as she held up the picture so that he couldn’t avoid seeing it. Oh, he might wish to dispute his parentage but anyone looking at the photograph could see in an instant how like him Megan was. The little girl had the same thick black hair and light olive skin, the same deep grey eyes. Even her nose was a smaller version of Vincenzo’s, arrow straight without even the hint of a tilt at the end of it. Apart from her mouth—which was like Lowri’s—Megan was the image of him and Lowri dared him to dispute it.

‘You can see from this that Megan is your child, Vincenzo. But if it isn’t enough to convince you then we can arrange to have DNA tests done. I have brought samples with me so you can send them off to a lab of your choice.’

She paused, waiting for him to say something, but he just stood there, staring impassively at the photograph. He seemed unmoved by the evidence she was showing him, uncaring even if Megan was his child or not, and her temper leapt a little further up the scale. ‘It will be harder to argue with the results of them, I imagine.’

‘What do you want?’

His voice was low yet Lowri flinched as though he had shouted the question at her. She took a quick breath, feeling her heart fluttering wildly inside her chest. The thought of what she was about to ask him to do made her feel sick, but she mustn’t think about how she felt, but about what it could mean for Megan.

‘It’s quite simple, Vincenzo. I want us to have another child.’

CHAPTER TWO

‘IF YOU WOULD wait in here, my housekeeper will bring you something to drink while I get changed. Which would you prefer: tea or coffee?’

‘Neither. I didn’t come here to sit around drinking tea, Vincenzo. I have more important things to worry about!’

Vincenzo heard the mounting hysteria in Lowri’s voice and inwardly flinched. He hated scenes, hated any display of unbridled emotion. Swinging round on his heel, he strode to the door, determined that he wasn’t going to be drawn into a discussion until she calmed down. They needed to talk about this calmly and rationally.

If that was possible.

His stomach roiled as he recalled what she had said. She had asked him to have another child with her and if that weren’t proof of her state of mind, what was? Even setting aside that claim she had made about him being the father of her daughter, what sane woman would have asked that of him? No, she was completely overwrought, unbalanced even, and he needed to proceed with the utmost caution if he was to avoid an ugly confrontation.

‘Don’t walk away from me, Vincenzo! I’m sorry if I’ve disrupted your day by coming here, but you’re going to listen to what I have to say whether you like it or not!’

Vincenzo came to an abrupt halt when she caught hold of his arm. Her fingers were icily cold against his bare skin and he fought to suppress the shiver that ran through him. Turning, he stared into her angry face, his lips already parted to remonstrate with her. Nobody ordered him about; he wouldn’t allow them to. Even if she was undergoing some sort of a mental crisis, she needed to understand that. However, for some reason he found the harsh words drying up when he looked into her eyes and saw the fear they held.

‘I need your help, Vincenzo, not for me but for Megan. That’s why I’m here. Because there’s nothing else I can do for her.’

She let go of his arm and he saw the shudder that passed through her. It struck him then just how terrified she looked. Maybe she wasn’t behaving rationally but it was obvious that she was under a huge amount of strain. The thought made him reconsider his decision to get rid of her as quickly as possible. Maybe they had known each other only for a very short time but she had helped him through a difficult period in his life. He owed it to her to listen to what she had to say at the very least.

Vincenzo turned and made his way to the sofa, surprised that he felt this way. He rarely felt under an obligation and couldn’t remember the last time he had put someone else’s needs before his own. However, there was something about the fear in Lowri’s hazel eyes that touched a chord inside him. He wanted to help her even though he had no idea why.

‘Thank you.’

Her voice was soft, filled with a relief that made his skin prickle in atavistic response. It was as though it had sliced through all the layers that had built up over the years and cut right to the very heart of him. Vincenzo took a deep breath, feeling oddly disorientated. He always knew how to behave in any situation, was always able to harness his emotions and steer them in the direction he wanted them to go, but not now. Not when he could tell how much it meant to her to have him do her bidding.

‘The fact that I am willing to listen to you means nothing,’ he said harshly, hating the fact that he felt so vulnerable. It was such an alien feeling and one he didn’t intend to foster either.

‘Maybe not, but it’s a start.’

She gave him a quick smile as she sat down and Vincenzo felt his own mouth start to curl in imitation of hers before he stopped it. Leaning back against the cushions, he stared coldly back at her, needing to set the tone for how the conversation would continue. Maybe she hoped to persuade him to agree to her request by employing all her charm, but there was no way that it was going to happen. He had never wanted children and he wasn’t about to change his mind...although if what she had said was true, perhaps it was already too late to turn his back on fatherhood.

The thought sent a chill coursing through him. Vincenzo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Although he was loath even to consider the idea that he might be the child’s father, he had to admit that she looked a lot like him. What if she was his daughter? What was he going to do then?

He had sworn that he would never have a family. His own less than idyllic childhood had put him off the idea. His mother had died shortly before his second birthday and he didn’t remember her at all. His father had brought him up and he had made it abundantly clear how much he had resented the time he’d had to spend with him.

Vincenzo had taken his lead from that. In his view, children needed far too much time and attention. He had seen how his colleagues struggled to balance the demands of family life with their work and he had vowed that he would never place himself in the same position. His job came first and everything else a very poor second. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to raise a family and he needed to make that clear before they went any further. Even in the unlikely event that the child turned out to be his, he didn’t intend to get involved.

‘I need to make my position perfectly clear, Signorina Davies. If what you say is correct, and it does turn out that I am the child’s father, I have no intention of getting involved in her life. Quite simply, children are not on my agenda and they never will be.’

He stared at Lowri, waiting for her to react, but her expression didn’t alter and, strangely enough, he wished that it had. It would have been that much easier to know what to say next if she had reacted with anger or incredulity even. He cleared his throat, feeling his stomach churning because he suddenly found himself in the unwelcome position of having to second-guess what she was thinking.

‘I am willing to have the DNA tests done if it means they will resolve this matter. If they prove that I am the father then naturally I shall make arrangements regarding the child’s support. However, that is where my involvement ends. I have no desire to play any role whatsoever in her life, you must understand.’

‘I do. I understand perfectly. However, I didn’t come here to ask you for money, Vincenzo. I am more than capable of supporting our daughter without your help.’

Her voice held a disdain that made Vincenzo’s skin heat with embarrassment. It was as though he had been put to the test and found wanting and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. He stared back at her, doing his best to rein in the odd mix of emotions that filled him. Anger and shame weren’t things he was used to feeling and he didn’t appreciate the fact that she could trigger such a response in him.

‘You say that now but who’s to say you won’t change your mind at some point? If I am the child’s father then I shall instruct my lawyers to draw up the appropriate papers.’ He shrugged, feeling easier now that he was back in control of the conversation. ‘If you don’t wish to use the money, it can be put into a trust fund for the child to use in the future.’

‘Megan. Her name is Megan. Referring to her as the child won’t change anything, Vincenzo. She’s still your daughter!’

Lowri glared at him. If she’d had a choice she would have got up right then and left, but she didn’t have a choice, did she? She needed his help so she had to stay, had to persuade him to do what she wanted.

Her stomach rolled as it struck her how unlikely it was that he would agree. Even though she had known from the outset that it had been a long shot, she had hoped that she might be able to convince him to help her. Now, after what he had said about children not being on his agenda, it seemed less likely than ever. The thought that she might have failed brought a rush of tears to her eyes but she blinked them away. She wouldn’t give up, not yet, not until she had done everything possible to persuade him.

Reaching into her bag, she took out a second photograph. It had been taken the previous week, shortly after Megan had been allowed home from hospital. Despite the fact that she had been exhausted, Megan was smiling as she held up the new doll Lowri had bought for her. She’d been so brave, Lowri thought, running her fingertip over the glossy surface of the photograph. Megan had been through so much in her short life yet she had still found the courage to smile for the camera. Now she had to be just as brave if she was to have any hope of saving her beloved daughter.

She laid the photograph on the coffee table then placed the first one next to it, her heart aching as she compared the two. Nobody looking at these pictures could fail to be moved by what they saw and she could only pray that Vincenzo’s heart would be touched too.

‘This was taken last week when Megan came home from hospital,’ she explained, her voice catching. She cleared her throat, knowing that she couldn’t afford to break down. She needed to persuade him to help her and to do that she had to be coherent, had to lay out her arguments in a logical sequence and convince him that it was the right thing to do.

The thought of what she wanted from him made her heart race but she ignored it. She would worry about that later; think about what it would entail after she had done this.

‘She lost her hair after the chemotherapy but we’re going to get her a wig as soon as I get back home.’ She gave a little laugh, stopping the instant she felt it start to turn into a sob. ‘Apparently, she wants a bright pink one, just like her favourite doll, so we should have fun choosing it.’

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Vincenzo’s voice was still cool, but Lowri heard the catch in it he tried so hard to hide and felt relief pour through her. So he wasn’t totally impervious to their daughter’s plight after all!

It took every scrap of strength she could muster to keep her own voice steady; however, she knew that he would retreat behind that wall he had erected between himself and the world if she showed too much emotion, and then wondered how on earth she could possibly know that. They’d spent just three weeks together, twenty-one days, and it hadn’t been enough to get to know him properly, yet she knew in her heart that emotion scared him.

Her voice softened, took on the same soothing note she used with Megan whenever she was afraid. ‘Acute lymphoblastic anaemia. She was diagnosed last year, on her third birthday, in fact, and she’s had almost a full year of treatment.’

‘Is she in remission?’ he asked bluntly.

‘Yes.’ Lowri tried not to read anything into the fact that he sounded less shocked this time. ‘However, I’ve been warned that it’s unlikely to last and that the cancer will return. Her consultant explained that her best hope is a stem-cell transplant. It’s highly effective in young children like Megan and it could mean that she’s cured.’

‘And have you found a donor?’

‘No. There’s nobody on the bone-marrow register who’s a match. I’ve been tested, of course, and my sister as well. Her two boys, Ben and Dan, have also been tested.’ She smiled as she thought about her nephews. ‘Ben’s fifteen and Daniel’s only thirteen but they insisted on being tested if it meant they might be able to help Megan. They adore her, see her more as a little sister than a cousin, in fact, but neither of them are a suitable match, sadly. Our best hope of finding a donor is if she had a sibling.’

‘Which is why you came to see me,’ Vincenzo said flatly.

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers, and Lowri felt a trickle of heat run down her spine when she saw the way he was looking at her. All of a sudden she knew that he was remembering that night they had slept together and her breath caught as her own head was suddenly filled with memories: the desire in Vincenzo’s eyes as he drew her down onto the bed; the coolness of his hands as he stroked her body; the heat of their sweat-slick skin as they clung to each other in the final seconds before the world dissolved in a shower of stars...

She stood up abruptly, desperate to break the visual contact. She had tried not to think about that night, had tried her hardest to erase it from her mind. There had seemed no reason to think about it after Vincenzo had ignored her letter so every time she had been tempted to recall what had happened, she had driven the thoughts away. Now all she could think about was how she had felt when they had made love. Vincenzo had aroused her passion to a level it had never reached before. She had wanted him more than she had wanted anyone, even Jonathan, her ex, and the thought stunned her.