Читать книгу: «Wish Upon A Star»

About the Author

As a child SARAH MORGAN dreamed of being a writer and, although she took a few interesting detours on the way, she is now living that dream. With her writing career she has successfully combined business with pleasure, and she firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic, and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.

Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or reading Sarah enjoys music, movies, and any activity that takes her outdoors.

Readers can find out more about Sarah and her books from her website: www.sarahmorgan.com. She can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.

Wish

Upon a

Star

Christy

Miranda

Sarah Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For my parents, with love.

And thanks to my children for providing endless authentic dialogue and for proving that any bed can be broken if you bounce hard enough.

To Julia, for her friendship, brainstorming skills and staying power.

Christy

Sarah Morgan

PROLOGUE

‘MUM, where are we spending Christmas?’

Christy glanced up from the letter she was reading. ‘I don’t know. Here, I suppose, with Uncle Pete and your cousins. Why do you ask? Christmas is ages away.’ And she was trying not to think about it. Christmas was a time for families and hers appeared to be disintegrating.

And it was all her fault. She’d done a really stupid thing and now they were all paying the price.

‘Christmas is a month away. Not ages.’ Katy leaned across the table and snatched the cereal packet from her little brother. ‘And I don’t want to stay here. I love Uncle Pete, but I hate London. I want to spend Christmas with Dad in the Lake District. I want to go home.’

Christy felt her insides knot with anguish. They wanted to spend Christmas with their father? She just couldn’t begin to imagine spending Christmas without the children. ‘All right.’ Her voice was husky and she cleared her throat. ‘Of course, that’s fine, if you’re sure that’s what you want.’ Oh, dear God, how would she survive? What would Christmas morning be without the children? ‘I’ll write to your father and tell him that you’re both coming up to stay. You might need to spend some time at Grandma’s because Daddy will be working at the hospital, of course, and it’s always a busy time for the mountain rescue team and—’

‘Not just us.’ Katy reached for the sugar. ‘I didn’t mean that we go without you. That would be hideous. I meant that we all go.’

‘What do you mean, all? And that’s enough sugar, Katy. You’ll rot your teeth.’

‘They go into holes,’ Ben breathed, with the gruesome delight of a seven-year-old. He picked up the milk jug and tried to pour milk into his cup but succeeded in slopping most of it over the table. ‘I learned about it in school last week. You eat sugar, you get holes. Then the dentist has to drill a bigger hole and fill it with cement.’

‘You are so lame! What do you know about anything, anyway?’ Katy threw her brother a disdainful look and doubled the amount of sugar she was putting on her cereal. ‘Stupid, idiot baby.’

‘I’m not a baby! I’m seven!’ Ben shot out of his chair and made a grab at his sister, who immediately put her hands round his throat.

‘Why did I have to be lumbered with a brother?’

‘Stop it, you two! Not his throat, Katy,’ Christy admonished, her head starting to thump as she reached for a cloth and mopped up the milk on the table. ‘You know that you don’t put anything round each other’s throats. You might strangle him.’

‘That was the general idea,’ Katy muttered, glaring at Ben before picking up her spoon and digging into her cereal. ‘Anyway, as I was saying. I don’t want Ben and I to go home for Christmas, I want all three of us to go.’

The throb in Christy’s head grew worse and she rose to her feet in search of paracetamol. ‘This is home now, sweetheart.’ Thanks to her stupidity. ‘London is home now.’

As if to remind herself of that depressing fact, she stared out of the window of their tiny flat, through the sheeting rain and down into the road below. There was a steady hiss as the traffic crawled along the wet, cheerless street. Brick buildings, old, tired and in need of repainting, rose up high, blocking out what there was of the restrained winter light. People shouted abuse and leaned on their horns and all the time the rain fell steadily, dampening streets and spirits with equal effectiveness. On the pavement people jostled and dodged, ears glued to mobile phones, walking and talking, eyes straight ahead, no contact with each other.

And then, just for a moment, the reality disappeared and Christy had a vision of the Lake District. Her real home. The sharp edges of the fells rising up against a perfectly blue sky on a crisp winter morning. The clank of metal and the sound of laughter as the mountain rescue team prepared for another callout. Friendship.

Oh, dear God, she didn’t want to be here. This wasn’t how it was supposed to have turned out.

As if picking up her mood, Ben’s face crumpled as he flopped back into his chair. ‘It isn’t home. It’ll never be home, it’s horrid and I hate it. I hate London, I hate school and most of all I hate you.’ And with that he scraped his chair away from the table and belted out of the door, sobbing noisily, leaving his cereal untouched.

Feeling sick with misery, Christy watched him go, suppressing a desperate urge to follow and give him a cuddle but knowing from experience that it was best to let him calm down in his own time. She sat back down at the table and tried to revive her flagging spirits. It was seven-thirty in the morning, she had to get two children to a school that they hated and she had to go on to a job that she hated, too. What on earth was she doing?

She topped up her coffee-cup and tried to retrieve the situation. ‘London at Christmas will be pretty cool.’

Katy shot her a pitying look. ‘Mum, don’t try and communicate on my level. It’s tragic when grown-ups do that. I can say cool, but it sounds ridiculous coming from anyone over the age of sixteen. Use grown-up words like “interesting” or “exciting”. Leave “cool” and “wicked” to those of us who appreciate the true meaning.’ With all the vast superiority of her eleven years, she pushed her bowl to one side and reached for a piece of toast. ‘And, anyway, it won’t be cool. The shopping’s good, but you can only do so much of that.’

Christy wondered whether she ought to point out that so far her daughter hadn’t shown any signs of tiring of that particular occupation but decided that the atmosphere around the breakfast table was already taut enough. ‘I can’t go back to the Lake District this Christmas,’ she said finally, and Katy lifted the toast to her lips.

‘Why not? Because you and Dad have had a row?’ She shrugged. ‘What’s new?’

Christy bit her lip and reflected on the challenges of having a daughter who was growing up and saw too much. She picked up her coffee-cup, determined to be mature about the whole thing. ‘Katy, we didn’t—’

‘Yes, you did, but it’s hardly surprising, is it? He’s Spanish and you’re half-Irish with red hair. Uncle Pete says that makes for about as explosive combination as it’s possible to get. I suppose things might have been different if you’d been born a blonde.’ Katy chewed thoughtfully. ‘Amazing, really, that the two of you managed to get it together for long enough to produce us.’

Christy choked on her coffee and made a mental note to have a sharp talk with her brother. ‘Katy, that’s enough.’

‘I’m just pointing out that the fact that you two can’t be in a room without trying to kill each other is no reason to keep us down here in London. We hate it, Mum. It’s great seeing Uncle Pete but a short visit is plenty. You hate it, too, I know you do.’

Was it that obvious? ‘I have a job here.’ In the practice where her brother worked as a GP. And it was fine, she told herself firmly. Fine. Perfectly adequate. She was lucky to have it.

‘You’re a nurse, Mum. You can get a job anywhere.’

Oh, to be a child again, when everything seemed so simple and straightforward. ‘Katy—’

‘Just for Christmas. Please? Don’t you miss Dad?’

The knot was back in her stomach. Christy closed her eyes and saw dark, handsome features. An arrogant, possessive smile and a mouth that could bring her close to madness. Oh, yes. Oh, yes, she missed him dreadfully. And, at this distance, some of her anger had faded. But the hurt was still there. All right, so she’d been stupid but she wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t been so—so aggravating. ‘I can’t discuss my relationship with your father with you.’

‘I’m eleven,’ Katy reminded her. ‘I know about relationships. And I know that the two of you are stubborn.’

He hadn’t contacted her. Pride mingled with pain and Christy pressed her lips together to stop a sob escaping. He was supposed to have followed her. Dragged her back. He was supposed to have fought for what they had. But he hadn’t even been in touch except when they made arrangements about the children. He didn’t care that she’d gone. The knowledge sat like a heavy weight in her heart and stomach. Suddenly she felt a ridiculous urge to confide in her child but she knew that she couldn’t do that, no matter how grown-up Katy seemed. ‘I can’t spend Christmas with your father.’

She’d started this but she didn’t know how to finish it. He was supposed to have finished it. He was supposed to have come after her. That was why she’d left. To try and make him listen. ‘A wake-up call’, a marriage counsellor would probably call it.

‘If I have a row with one of my friends you always say, “Sit down, Katy, and discuss it like a grown-up.”’ Katy rolled her eyes, her imitation next to perfect. ‘And what do you do? You move to opposite ends of the country. Hardly a good example to set, is it?’

Christy stiffened and decided that some discipline was called for. ‘I’m not sure I like your tone.’

‘And I’m not sure I like being the product of a broken home.’ Katy finished her toast and took a sip from her glass of milk. ‘Goodness knows what it will do to me. You read about it every day in the papers. There’s a strong chance I’m going to go off the rails. Theft. Pregnancy—’

Christy banged her cup down onto the table. ‘What do you know about pregnancy?’

Katy shot her a pitying look. ‘Oh, get a life, Mum. I know plenty.’

‘You do?’ She just wasn’t ready to handle this stage of child development on her own, Christy thought weakly. She needed Alessandro. She needed—

Oh, help…

‘And don’t write to him. Ring him up.’ Katy glanced at the clock and stood up, ponytail swinging. ‘We’d better go or we’ll be late. The traffic never moves in this awful place. I’ve never spent so many hours standing still in my whole life and I don’t think I can stand it any more. I’ll ring him if you’re too cowardly.’

‘I’m not cowardly.’ Or maybe she was. He hadn’t rung her. Gorgeous, sexy Alessandro, who was always wrapped up in his job or his role on the mountain rescue team, always the object of a million women’s fantasies. Once she’d been wrapped up in the same things but then the children had come and somehow she’d been left behind…

And he didn’t notice her any more. He didn’t have time for their relationship. For her.

‘Ben’s upstairs, crying. I’m here eating far too much sugar and you’re ingesting a lethal dose of caffeine,’ Katy said dramatically as she walked to the door, her performance worthy of the London stage. ‘We’re a family in crisis. We need our father or goodness knows what might happen to us.’

Christy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘You haven’t finished your milk,’ she said wearily. ‘All right, I’ll talk to him. See what he says.’

It would be just for the festive season, she told herself. The children shouldn’t suffer because of her stupidity and Alessandro’s arrogant, stubborn nature.

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Yay!’ Katy punched the air, her ponytail swinging. ‘We’re going back to the Lake District for Christmas. Snow. Rain. Howling winds. I’ll see my old friends. My phone bill will plummet. Thanks Mum, you’re the best.’

As she danced out of the room, no doubt en route to pass the joyful news on to her brother, Christy felt her stomach sink down to her ankles. Now all she had to do was summon the courage to phone Alessandro and tell him that they were planning to return home for Christmas. How on earth was she going to do that?

CHAPTER ONE

‘EMERGENCY on its way in, Mr Garcia.’ The pretty nurse stuck her head round the office door. ‘You’re needed in Resus.’

Alessandro dropped the report on staffing that he was reading and wondered how many times a day he heard that statement. He was always needed in Resus. Sometimes he felt as though he lived in Resus. Particularly at the moment when almost forty per cent of the staff were off with flu.

He strode out of his office, nodded to one of the A and E sisters who hurried past him, looking harassed, and shouldered his way through the double doors into Resus.

Chaos reigned.

‘She’s bleeding from somewhere, we need to find out where.’ Billy, one of the casualty officers, was trying to direct operations and he looked up with a sigh of relief as Alessandro appeared by the side of the trolley. ‘Oh, Mr Garcia. Thank goodness. Dr Nicholson is already tied up with that climbing accident and—’

‘What’s the story?’ Alessandro cut him off and Billy sucked in a breath.

‘Her husband brought her in by car. She was complaining of abdominal pain all night and he was driving quickly in an attempt to get her here and took the car into the ditch.’ Clearly out of his comfort zone, he dragged a hand through his hair, leaving it more untidy than ever. ‘She’s had a bang on her head and her obs suggests that she’s bleeding but we don’t know where from.’

Alessandro took the gloves that a nurse was holding out to him and made a mental note to speak to Billy about the quality of his handover skills at some point in the near future.

‘Does “she” have a name?’ he enquired softly and Billy coloured.

‘Megan. Megan Yates.’

Alessandro swiftly dragged on the gloves and turned to the woman who was lying on the trolley, noted her pale, blood-streaked cheeks and the fear in her eyes. ‘Megan, this must be very frightening for you, but you’re in hospital now and we’re going to make you comfortable as quickly as we can.’ He lifted his gaze to Billy. ‘Bleep the on-call gynae team,’ he instructed calmly, donning the rest of the necessary protective clothing and glancing at the monitor. ‘We need to keep an eye on her pulse and blood pressure.’

Her pulse was up, her blood pressure was dropping and she was showing all the signs of haemorrhage. But, unlike his less experienced colleague, he had no intention of sharing his concerns with an already worried patient.

Billy followed his gaze. ‘The gynae team?’ His tone was level but his expression was confused. ‘I thought after an RTA and trauma, she’d need—’

‘And she’s of childbearing age, and before her husband landed the car in the ditch she was suffering from abdominal pain,’ Alessandro reminded him, ‘so that is not to be forgotten. I want two lines in her straight away, wide-bore cannulae.’

Responding immediately to his decisive tone, Nicky, one of the A and E sisters, pushed a trolley across Resus and Billy put a tourniquet on the woman’s arm and ripped open the first cannula. ‘You think she might have a ruptured ectopic?’

‘I don’t know yet, but let’s just say I have a low threshold of suspicion so I’m treating it as that until I have reason to think otherwise.’ Alessandro continued to deliver a steady stream of instructions while the staff around him bobbed and moved in perfect unison. They were so used to working together that they often anticipated each other’s needs. He turned back to his patient. ‘Megan, is there any chance that you could be pregnant?’

‘No—well, I mean…’ The woman closed her eyes briefly. ‘It’s so unlikely it’s virtually impossible.’

‘In this department we deal with the unlikely and the impossible on a fairly regular basis,’ Alessandro replied with a wry smile. ‘When was your last period?’

‘Months ago,’ she whispered. ‘I have endometriosis.’

He heard the catch in her voice and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘That must be hard for you,’ he said gently. ‘But right now we need to find out what injuries you suffered in the accident and try and get to the bottom of your abdominal pain. We need to undress you so that we can do a proper examination, head to toe, and find out exactly what is going on. Nicky?’

Nicky was already removing clothes, fingers and scissors moving swiftly as Alessandro started his examination.

‘Where’s her husband?’ He was checking the body methodically, on the alert for anything life-threatening. ‘Was he injured?’

‘He’s fine,’ Billy muttered as he successfully put the second line in and taped it in place. ‘Waiting in the relatives’ room. Nicky put him there.’

‘She has a nasty laceration of her shoulder.’ Nicky reached for a sterile pad while Alessandro examined it swiftly.

‘That’s going to need stitching but it can wait,’ he murmured, his gaze sliding to the monitor again. ‘Her pressure is still dropping. I want to know why. And I want to know now. Did someone bleep the gynae team?’

‘On their way,’ a staff nurse reported and Alessandro’s eyes narrowed.

He didn’t like the look of his patient.

‘Oh…’ Nicky finished cutting off the woman’s clothes and her face reflected shock before she quickly masked it. ‘We have some blood loss here, Alessandro.’

One glance was all it took for him to measure the degree of the understatement. ‘Fast-bleep Jake Blackwell,’ he ordered in a calm voice. ‘Cross-match six units of blood and get her rhesus status. We may need to give her anti-D. And someone get a blanket on her before she gets hypothermia.’

Jake Blackwell, the consultant obstetrician, strode into the room minutes later. ‘You need my advice, Garcia? Struggling?’ His eyes mocked but Alessandro was too worried about his patient to take the bait.

‘I need you to do some work for a change,’ he drawled, but although his tone was casual and relaxed, his eyes were sharp and alert and his handover to his colleague was so succinct that Billy threw him a look of admiration.

Jake listened, examined the woman swiftly and then nodded, all traces of humour gone. ‘Megan, it looks as though you might have an ectopic pregnancy—that means that the egg has implanted somewhere other than your uterus and, in your case, it seems that it may have done some damage that we need to put right with an operation.’ He lifted his eyes to Alessandro. ‘She’s going to need surgery. We’ll take her straight to Theatre. Damn. I’m supposed to be somewhere else. I need to make a couple of calls—speak to the anaesthetist, juggle my list.’

Alessandro leaned across and increased the flow of both the oxygen and the IV himself. ‘Just so long as you juggle it quickly. We’ll transfer her to Theatre while you do what you need to do. Her husband is in our relatives’ room if you want to tackle the issue of consent.’

‘Great.’ Jake walked to the phone and punched in a number while Alessandro monitored his patient.

‘Phone down and get that blood sent up to Theatre as soon as it’s available,’ he ordered, and Nicky hurried to the nearest phone to do as he’d instructed.

Minutes later the woman was on her way to Theatre and Jake disappeared to talk to her husband.

He reappeared in the department hours later, after Alessandro had dealt with what felt like a million road accidents, intermingled with a significant number of people with flu.

‘Why don’t people stay in bed when they have flu?’ he grumbled as Jake appeared in the doorway of his office. ‘For a start, if they can get out of bed then it isn’t flu and it certainly isn’t an accident or an emergency. Why come to a hospital and spread it around?’

‘Because they’re generous?’ Jake strolled into the office and dropped onto the nearest chair without even bothering to move the pile of files that were covering it. ‘Hell, I’m knackered. I’ve spent the whole day in Theatre saving lives. One drama after another. You don’t know you’re born, working down here.’

Alessandro thought of the two major RTAs, the heart attack and the sickle-cell crisis he’d dealt with since lunchtime. And the only way he’d known it had been lunchtime had been because he’d looked at the clock on the wall. He hadn’t eaten for hours. ‘That’s right. I spend my life sitting on my backside.’

‘Backside?’ Jake grinned. ‘That doesn’t sound like a particularly Spanish word, amigo.’

Feeling tired and bad-tempered, Alessandro scowled at him. ‘Haven’t you got anything better to do with your time than sit in my office, moaning?’

‘Actually, I came down to see if you fancy grabbing a couple of beers after work. I have a feeling that our problems are nothing that alcohol can’t fix.’

Alessandro pulled a face. ‘Not tonight.’

Jake yawned. ‘You working late?’

‘I’m cleaning up the house.’ Alessandro felt the tension rise inside him. ‘Christy and the kids are arriving tomorrow for Christmas. I need to throw out four months’ worth of take-away cartons and fill the fridge with broccoli or she’ll hit the roof. You know Christy and her obsession with nutrition.’

Jake stared, his blue eyes suddenly keen and interested. ‘You guys are back together?’

‘No. We’re not back together.’ Alessandro all but snapped the words out, his anger suddenly so close to the surface that his fingers tightened on the pencil he was holding and broke it in two. ‘We’re spending Christmas in the same house for the sake of the kids.’

‘I see.’ Jake’s eyes rested on the broken pencil, his expression thoughtful. ‘Well, that promises to be a peaceful Christmas, then. Better warn Santa to wear his flak jacket when he flies over your barn. Wouldn’t want him to be caught in flying shrapnel as you two tear bits off each other.’

Alessandro thought about all the occasions he’d seen Christy in the last six weeks. Brief occasions when they’d handed over the children. They’d barely spoken, let alone rowed. ‘It isn’t like that any more.’ Christmas promised to be as icy cold as the weather and Alessandro was suddenly struck by inspiration. ‘Why don’t you join us? You’re their godfather.’

Jake nodded. ‘I might do that if I can drag myself away from the irresistible lure of this place. You know how I am with cold hospital turkey and lumpy gravy. I’ve been trying to break myself of the addiction for years.’ He stretched his legs out in front of him. ‘You know, about this thing that’s going on with you and Christy—’

‘There’s nothing going on. We’re separated and that’s all there is to it. And I don’t want to talk about it.’ Alessandro’s gaze was shuttered and Jake sighed.

‘I just hate to see the two of you like this. You’re my best friends and if anyone was ever meant to be together, it’s you two. You should hang onto what you’ve got. It’s hard enough finding anyone you get on vaguely well with in this world. Christy was crazy about you, right from day one. And you were crazy about her. I remember the day you guys met—’

‘I said, I don’t want to talk about it,’ Alessandro said coldly, his dark eyes stormy and threatening as he rose to his feet and paced over to the window, angry with Jake for stirring up memories that he’d spent ages trying to bury. How could he ever forget the day he’d first met Christy?

He stared out of the window. Outside, snow lay thick on the ground, disguising the usually familiar landscape. In the distance the fells rose. He studied their familiar jagged lines and then turned, his volatile Mediterranean temper bubbling to the surface. ‘She left me.’

‘I know.’ Jake’s voice was soft. ‘I wonder why she felt she had to do that?’

Alessandro’s jaw tensed. ‘If you’re implying that any of this is my fault, you’re wrong.’

‘Christy adores you. She’s crazy about you and always has been. If she left you, she must have been desperate,’ Jake said quietly. ‘She must have felt there was no other way to get through to you.’

‘That’s ridiculous. She could have talked to me.’

Jake’s expression was inscrutable. ‘Could she? Did you make yourself available?’

Alessandro sucked in a frustrated breath. ‘How could we talk when she left me?’ He sounded impossibly Spanish and Jake gave a wry smile.

‘So is that what this is all about?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Pride? She was the one to walk away from you so you’re not going to go after her? Why did she leave you, Al?’ Jake’s voice was calm as he rose to his feet. ‘Try asking yourself that question while you’re binning take-away cartons.’

And with that parting shot he left the room and closed the door quietly behind him.

Christy had changed her clothes a dozen times and in the end settled on a pencil skirt, a pair of heels and a blue jumper in the softest cashmere, which she’d bought in a small shop on the King’s Road to cheer herself up. It hadn’t worked, but she knew she looked good in it. And she wanted to remind Alessandro what he was missing. Not that she wanted them to get back together again, she told herself hastily, because she didn’t. Oh, no. She wasn’t that stupid.

Obviously he wasn’t interested in her any more. Their marriage had worn itself out. He was an arrogant, selfish, macho workaholic who suited himself in life and clearly he didn’t love her any more. If he’d loved her, he never would have let her leave.

As they drove deeper into Cumbria she saw the fells rise under a crown of snow and felt the tension leave her. The winter winds had dragged the last of the leaves from the trees and the sky was grey and menacing but it was wild and familiar. It was home.

Why, she wondered, had she thought that she could be happy in London? She’d never been a city girl. For her, life had always been about being outdoors. Being active and close to nature. When Christmas was over, she’d move back up here and find a job in the Lake District. There must be some other department she could work in that didn’t have links with Alessandro. She didn’t have to throw away everything she loved just because their relationship was on the rocks.

She needed to build a new life.

A life that didn’t include Alessandro.

‘Mum?’ Ben’s little voice whined from the back of the car, disturbing her thoughts. ‘Are we there yet?’

‘Nearly. Don’t you recognise those trees?’ Christy changed down a gear and took the sharp turning that led down the lane to the barn.

They’d discovered it during the second year of their marriage. Katy had been a baby and they’d both fallen in love with the potential of the old, tumble-down building bordered by fields and a fast-flowing river. They’d spent the next few years living on a building site while they’d lovingly turned it into their dream home.

And there it was, smoke rising from the chimney like a welcome beacon.

Christy swallowed and slowed the car. Except it wasn’t a welcome, was it? Alessandro didn’t want her any more. He’d made that perfectly clear. For him, their marriage was over. And the fact that they were about to spend three weeks together was everything to do with the children and nothing to do with them.

It was going to be something akin to torture.

She was going to be dignified, she reminded herself as she pulled the car up outside the front of the barn and switched off the engine. They were both civilised human beings. They could spend time together for the sake of their children.

She wasn’t going to lose her temper. She wasn’t going to show him how upset she was. She wasn’t going to reveal that she wished she’d never left. She wasn’t going to cry and most of all she wasn’t going to let him know that she thought about him day and night.

But then the front door was pulled open and all her resolutions flew out of her head.

Alessandro stood there, his powerful, athletic body almost filling the doorway. He looked dark and dangerous and Christy caught her breath, just as she had on that very first day they’d met. One glance at those brooding dark eyes was enough to make her forget her own name. Wasn’t time supposed to put a dent in sexual attraction? she thought helplessly. Wasn’t she supposed to have become bored and indifferent over time? Well, it certainly hadn’t happened in her case. But that was probably because Alessandro was no ordinary guy, she thought miserably as she switched off the engine and tried to slow the rhythmic thump of her heart. He was strong, unashamedly masculine, hotly sexual and almost indecently handsome. The combination was a killer and no woman would ever pass him by without giving a second and third look.

He stood now in his usual arrogant, self-confident pose, legs planted slightly apart, his hair gleaming glossy black in the fading winter sunlight, his shoulders broad and muscular under the thick, ribbed jumper. He wore scuffed walking boots and ancient jeans and she thought, with a lurch of her heart and a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, that he’d never looked more attractive. And she had absolutely no doubt that other women felt the same way.

He was a red-blooded male with a high sex drive and they hadn’t shared a bed for almost two months.

Had he taken a lover?

The thought flew into her head from nowhere and she pushed it away again, too sick at the thought to even dwell on the possibility.

‘Dad!’ Katy and Ben were out of the car before Christy had a chance to get herself together and suddenly she realised that they were doing what she wanted to do. She wanted to run and hug him. She wanted him to tell her that this was all a ridiculous misunderstanding and hear him tell her that everything was going to be all right.

And then she wanted him to take her to bed and fix everything.

But he didn’t even glance towards the car. He just hugged the children and fussed over them, which meant that it was up to her to make the first move.

Thank goodness for the children, she thought miserably as she opened her car door. Because of them, they wouldn’t have to spend time as a couple and clearly Alessandro didn’t consider them to be a couple any more.

She strolled over to him, glad of the cashmere jumper. It was cold. Significantly colder than London.

He was still hugging the children but their eyes met over the top of two dark little heads.

‘Christianne.’ His voice was cool, his handsome face blank of expression, and suddenly she wanted to leap at him and claw him just to get a reaction.

How could he seem so indifferent?

How could he call her Christianne in that smooth, formal tone when he only ever called her Christy?

After everything they’d shared—a fierce, perfect passion—how could he be so cold towards her?

‘Alessandro.’ Rat. Snake, she thought to herself. How could you do this to me? To us?

‘Good journey?’ He had a trace of a Spanish accent that he’d never lost despite the fact he’d lived in England for the past twelve years. She’d always loved his accent but suddenly it just seemed like a reminder of the differences between them.

‘Fine, thanks. Traffic was pretty heavy coming out of London, but I suppose that’s to be expected at this time of year. First day of the Christmas holidays.’ She almost winced as she heard herself talking. She sounded so formal. As if they were strangers rather than two people who had shared everything there had been to share for the last twelve years. Any moment now, they’d be shaking hands.

Fortunately Katy grabbed Ben and started to dance a jig. ‘No more school,’ she sang in a delighted voice. ‘No more vile, horrid school with demented, stinky, bullying teachers.’

But Alessandro wasn’t looking at the children. He was looking at her, with those hot, dark eyes that were a symbol of his Mediterranean heritage.

She saw his gaze slide down her body and rest on the high-heeled shoes; the shoes that had seemed so pretty in London and now felt utterly ridiculous with snow on the ground and the cold bite of winter in the air. In London, it hadn’t felt like winter. It had just felt wet and miserable. The shoes had cheered her up. Given her confidence. Reminded her that she was a woman.

Noting his disdainful glance, her confidence evaporated and she knew instinctively that he was thinking about all the people he’d had to rescue from the mountains because they’d been wearing ridiculous footwear. Suddenly she wanted to defend herself. To tell him that she wasn’t walking anywhere but that the shoes made her legs look good and she’d wanted him to notice.

Suddenly nervous and not understanding why, she waved a hand at the fells. ‘When did it snow?’

‘A week ago.’ His wry tone said it all and she looked back at him, noting the dark shadows under his eyes with a flash of surprise.

She knew that Alessandro had endless stamina. Why would he look tired?

‘I suppose you’ve been really busy, then.’ She almost laughed as she listened to herself. What a stupid thing to say. When was Alessandro ever not busy? Work was his life. As she’d discovered to her cost.

‘The weather isn’t helping.’ He strode over to her car and retrieved the cases from the boot. ‘I’m afraid I have to go back to the hospital after you’ve settled in.’

Katy groaned an instant protest. ‘Daddy, no!’

‘Sorry, niña.’ Alessandro stooped and dropped a kiss on his daughter’s head. ‘There are lots of staff off sick, but I’m sure they’ll be better soon. I’ll have more time next week and we’ll go climbing, that’s a promise.’

Christy frowned as she followed him into the barn. ‘You’re not taking her climbing in this weather, Alessandro.’

‘You used to climb in this weather.’ His sardonic gaze made her heart tumble.

They’d argued about it so many times. When they’d first met, she’d been young and reckless. He’d been fiercely protective. Possessive. Hadn’t wanted her out there in the mountains where danger might exist. And she’d teased him and gone anyway, loving the fact that he cared enough to want to stop her from doing anything remotely dangerous. Provoking him. Pushing him to the edges of patience.

‘Well, I don’t climb now.’ Her life was so safe and boring that it was enough to make her scream. She frowned at the thought. It was funny, she mused, how your lifestyle could change so gradually that you didn’t even notice it happening. One day you were hanging from a cliff by your fingernails and the next you were wading through a pile of ironing, listening to the radio.

How had it happened?

There’d been a time when she would have tugged on her walking boots and her weatherproof jacket and headed out into the hills without a backward glance. But all that had changed once the children had arrived.

Pushing aside the uncomfortable thought that her life was posing some questions she didn’t want to answer, she walked past him into the house. ‘Perhaps we’ll talk about it later.’ She tossed her hair out of her eyes. ‘When you eventually come back from the hospital.’

The atmosphere snapped tight between them and Christy cursed herself. She hadn’t intended to irritate or aggravate him. She’d wanted to be super-cool and indifferent in the same way that he was clearly indifferent to her.

If he wasn’t indifferent, he would have followed her to London and talked about their problems.

He would have dragged her home where she belonged.

But he seemed to hurt her at every turn. Even now, by going straight back to the hospital, by not wanting to be with her, he was hurting her.

His eyes narrowed, his mouth tightened and his shoulders tensed. ‘I’ll take the cases up to your room.’

He sounded like a hotel concierge, Christy thought miserably as they trailed their way upstairs. Showing her around. Any minute now he’d be wishing her a pleasant stay. She’d expected anger and hostility, but what she hadn’t expected was his coldness. She didn’t know how to deal with coldness.

The children ran ahead, whooping and shrieking, excited about seeing their rooms again, oblivious of the rising tension between the two adults.

Envious of their carefree, uncomplicated approach to life, Christy watched them go. ‘They’re so pleased to be here,’ she said softly, and Alessandro turned to her with something that was almost a growl.

‘Of course they are pleased to be here. It’s their home. They never should have left. And you never should have taken them!’

She inhaled sharply, shocked by the sharp stab of pain that lanced through her. He’d said that ‘they’ never should have left. He hadn’t said anything about her. He didn’t care about her. The only reason that he cared that she’d moved out was because he missed his children.

It was all about the children.

She felt a lump building in her throat and swallowed it down with an effort, reminding herself that she had to behave like an adult even though she wanted to break down and cry like a child.

‘You’re blaming me for this situation, Alessandro?’

‘You’re the one who decided to move out of the family home.’

It was only supposed to be temporary, she wanted to shout. You were supposed to come after me. But pride stopped her saying what she wanted to say. Pride and the knowledge that he hadn’t cared enough to come after her.

Her eyes blazed into his. ‘And that makes this my fault?’

‘I missed one lousy anniversary.’ His eyes flashed dark with frustration and he ran both hands through his hair. ‘And you walked out.’

Christy bit her lip. He just didn’t get it. He couldn’t even understand why she was so upset. How had they come to this?

She swallowed hard. ‘It wasn’t about the anniversary, Alessandro.’ Although that had hurt badly. ‘It was so much more than that. And we can’t talk about this now. The children will hear us.’

‘You didn’t talk about it at any time,’ he said roughly, his eyes dark and dangerous, his accent thicker than ever. ‘You just left, ripping all the important things in my life away from me.’

She winced at his description and forgot her resolutions not to argue with him. ‘I tried to talk to you but you were always at the hospital or out on a rescue!’

‘It’s my job, Christy.’

And he’d been avoiding the issue. ‘We never communicate any more, Alessandro. When did you last spend time with me?’

‘You were in my bed every single night.’ His arrogant declaration brought a flush of colour to her pale cheeks.

‘That was just sex,’ she muttered. ‘The only place we ever spent time together was in bed.’

Right from the first moment they’d met, they’d been unable to keep their hands off each other—to exercise anything even remotely resembling self-control.

Awareness throbbed between them and as she caught the passion and fire in his eyes, only partially concealed by thick, dark lashes. Painfully aware of his vibrant masculinity, she turned away, trying desperately to ignore the agony of need that flared inside her body.

It didn’t mean anything, she told herself miserably. Alessandro was a red-blooded Mediterranean man and sex had always been important to him. It didn’t mean that he loved her. Sex was not a way to solve problems.

But maybe it would be a start, she thought to herself.

If they shared a bed tonight, perhaps they’d feel closer and could start talking.

‘When did we last spend time together, Alessandro?’ she said in a choked voice. ‘Wasn’t I important? Do strangers in trouble matter more than your own wife?’

A muscle worked in his jaw and he let out a long breath, but before he could speak, the children came barrelling out of their bedrooms. ‘We’re going outside to play in the snow,’ Katy yelled, ponytail flying as she took the stairs two at a time with Ben close behind her.

‘Don’t forget your coats,’ Christy called after them, suddenly desperate for them to stay, to breathe life and fun into the place. She didn’t want to be on her own with Alessandro. Didn’t have the energy for the confrontation that was brewing.

Reading her mind, he took a step towards her. ‘So—I’m here now. If you want to talk, then talk.’ He looked remote and unapproachable and she felt everything sink inside her.

She knew that some of the nurses and junior doctors found Alessandro intimidating, but she’d only ever loved the fact that he had no tolerance for anything less than perfection. It was what made him such an excellent doctor. So why did she suddenly find him so formidable?

‘We can’t talk about this in five minutes with you due back at the hospital. It’s too important for that.’

‘If you’ve got something to say, say it.’ His mouth was grim as he moved towards her. ‘You’re trembling. Do I make you nervous, Christy?’

If he kissed her, she was lost.

She backed away and hated herself for it. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you don’t make me nervous.’

‘Feeling guilty about leaving?’ He kept on coming, his eyes locked on hers. ‘Conscience pricking you?’

‘I don’t have anything to feel guilty about.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘You’re seeing everything from one side as usual, which is totally unreasonable.’

‘You talk to me about unreasonable when you were the one who walked out?’

There was a long silence while the atmosphere throbbed and hummed. His dark eyes slid down to her mouth and she thought she saw a sudden flare of hunger. But then it was gone and he bent to pick up her case.

‘You’re right. This isn’t the right time to talk about it. You’ve been gone for almost two months so waiting a few days longer for a cosy chat isn’t going to kill either of us. I’ll take this through to your room.’ His tone was flat, emotionless and she watched him as he walked.

Her room? What did he mean, ‘her room’?

Her knees still shaking, she followed him, her heart diving south as she saw that he’d put in her in the guest room. He stood for a moment, one dark eyebrow raised in challenge, and she bit her lip, hiding the pain.

So much for using sex as a problem-solver.

Was he expecting her to beg? Clearly he didn’t want her sleeping in the same room as him, the same bed as him, but she wasn’t going to let him know how much that hurt her. She had too much pride.

‘Great. This is excellent.’ She swept into the room as though the sleeping arrangements had been her choice. ‘We did this up nicely, didn’t we? I always liked the throw on the bed.’

His gaze was steady on her face. ‘You should be comfortable enough.’

Oh, no, she wouldn’t, she thought miserably. She wouldn’t sleep a wink, knowing that he was just down the corridor. Sleeping naked… Alessandro always slept naked and she felt a sudden rush of heat at the thought. She missed him so much. ‘I’ll be fine. This is perfect.’

Something flamed in his dark eyes and she wondered what she’d said to anger him. After all, he’d been the one to put her in the spare room. If anyone had a right to be angry, surely it should be her? But he’d drawn the battle lines and made his position clear.

He didn’t even want her in his bedroom. Didn’t want their relationship to be mended.

And why did that come as a surprise? If he’d wanted to mend it, he would have followed her to London and dragged her back.

Which was what she’d thought he’d do.

She felt tears prick her eyes but fortunately Katy chose that moment to race back into the room, her hair and brightly coloured jumper dusted with snow. ‘Oh, Mum, this is wicked. There’s so much snow and—’ She broke off and glanced around her. ‘What are you doing in here?’

‘This is where I’m sleeping, sweetheart.’ Christy kept her tone bright, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for she and Alessandro to be sleeping apart, but Katy’s expression changed from happy to stubborn.

‘In the spare room?’

Christy suppressed a groan. Katy definitely saw too much. ‘Your father and I need some space,’ she said quietly, and Katy glowered at both of them.

‘This is Christmas. Goodwill and all that. If you argue, you’ll upset Ben.’

‘We’re not arguing,’ Christy said weakly, and Alessandro gave a disapproving frown.

‘Our sleeping arrangements are none of your business, Katherine.’ He spoke quietly, but there was a warning note in his voice that made Katy’s narrow shoulders tense.

‘No.’ Her expression was mutinous. ‘You’re not sleeping in here. I want you to sleep in the same bed, like everyone else’s parents.’

‘Sweetheart, plenty of your friends’ parents don’t sleep together. Look at Rosie’s mum and dad. They—’

‘That’s different. They’re divorced.’ Katy glared at her fiercely. ‘You and Dad are not getting divorced. That isn’t going to happen.’

Christy heard Alessandro drag in a long breath and bit her lip hard. Just hearing the word said aloud made her feel sick but at that moment all her thoughts were channelled towards alleviating her daughter’s distress.

‘Look, sweetheart, you’re too young to understand at the moment.’ She kept her tone modulated and reasonable. ‘But you have to leave this to Daddy and I. We’ll sort it out together in our own way.’

Katy put her hands on her hips and gave an innocent smile. ‘You think so?’ And she turned on her heel and left the room.

Alessandro swore softly in Spanish. ‘I will speak to her—’

‘No.’ Christy shook her head. ‘She’s upset. I’ll talk to her later, when she’s had time to calm down.’

‘And what are you going to tell her? That this was your choice? I need to get back to the hospital.’ He gave her a long, burning look loaded with accusation and then strode out of the room. Christy stared after him, feeling numb. It was clear that he blamed her for the entire situation and the knowledge that he’d absolved himself of all responsibility should have stoked her anger. Instead, it left her feeling exhausted. She’d known Alessandro angry, she’d known him passionate but she’d never known him cold before now.

There was no hope for them. None at all.

And it promised to be anything but a happy and peaceful Christmas.

CHAPTER TWO

ALESSANDRO drove too fast, eyes narrowed, hands gripping the steering-wheel of his sports car.

He’d put her in the spare room, expecting to get a reaction, expecting her to throw herself into his arms. She hadn’t even blinked.

Until she’d walked out three months earlier, they’d never even slept apart. Now she was behaving as though separate beds were an everyday occurrence.

Clearly it was what she wanted.

He parked in his space, still thinking about Christy, oblivious to the biting cold or the wail of approaching sirens.

She’d looked more beautiful than ever. She was the only woman he’d ever met who could appear so impossibly slender and yet still manage to have curves in all the right places. The gorgeous blue jumper had brought out the amazing colour of her eyes and her silky soft hair had tumbled past her shoulders like a blatant taunt. Had she done that on purpose? She knew how much he adored her hair. And then there were her legs, long, slim and tempting in those ridiculously high heels. She looked sexy and alluring and nothing like the way that a respectably married mother of two children was supposed to look.

Had she already taken another lover?

Discovering the meaning of insecurity for the first time in his life, Alessandro climbed out of the car, battling against a burning desire to put his fist through something. An ominous expression on his handsome face, he slammed his way through the doors that led from the ambulance bay into the department and almost crashed into his colleague.

‘What are you doing here? We weren’t expecting you back.’ Sean Nicholson, the senior consultant in the A and E department and the leader of the mountain rescue team, took a step back, eyebrows raised in question.

Alessandro dragged in a breath and bottled up his temper. ‘We’re short-staffed,’ he said tightly. ‘And this seems as good a place to be as any.’

Sean’s eyes narrowed. ‘That bad, eh?’

‘Don’t ask.’

‘Doesn’t do to run away from women,’ Sean drawled. ‘They catch up with you in the end.’

Only if they want to, Alessandro mused, his temper still stewing and simmering. Clearly Christy wanted no more to do with him. She’d moved out, come home only because she wanted the children to have a family Christmas, and she had no qualms about sleeping in the spare room.

Sean thrust a set on notes into his hand. ‘Well, I’m not sorry you’re here. This place is starting to resemble a war zone.’

A bit like home, then, Alessandro thought bitterly, walking through to a cubicle to see the patient that Sean had given him, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Sean caught his arm.

‘Alessandro?’ Sean’s eyes were suddenly intent and thoughtful. ‘I don’t suppose Christy wants to come back to work, does she? Just for the two weeks leading up to Christmas? We’ve got six nurses off sick at the moment. The numbers just aren’t adding up.’

‘Christy?’ Alessandro frowned. ‘She’s a practice nurse…’

Sean raised his eyebrows. ‘Only for the last few years,’ he said, his tone mild. ‘Before that she was an A and E nurse, and a damn good one. I know it’s a long shot, but…’ He caught the dubious look on Alessandro’s face and gave a shrug. ‘Give it some thought.’ He walked off and Alessandro stared after him.

It had been years since Christy had worked in A and E. She’d carried on working in the department part time after Katy’s birth, but once Ben had arrived she’d given up completely for a few years and then taken a part-time job in the local GP practice.

Why would Sean think she could fill the gap in A and E? She’d be out of her depth, out of touch, unable to cope with the pressure—it was a ridiculous suggestion. Christy was a mother now. The children were her priority. There was no way she’d be able to cope with the demands of A and E.

He dismissed the thought instantly and buried himself in work. He worked through a long and busy night without taking a break and eventually arrived home at five in the morning.

The house was in darkness as he showered and crawled into his cold, empty bed. Sleep should have swallowed him whole but instead he stayed on the edges of wakefulness, unable to find the rest he craved.

His mind was full of Christy, at that moment probably sleeping peacefully in their spare bedroom.

The thought of her warm, perfect body sent his tension levels soaring and he eventually gave up on sleep just as the weak, winter light was filtering through the curtains. Cursing softly, his body thrumming with frustration, he pulled on a pair of fleecy tracksuit bottoms and a sweatshirt and went out for a run.

The snow was crisp and fresh on the ground, unmarked, and his breath clouded the air as he pounded silently along the track that led from his house to the river. Today the boulders were tipped with snow and the water was ice cold and as clear as glass. He ran until the breath tore at his lungs and his muscles ached and eventually arrived home to find the children sprawled on the sofas, watching Christmas cartoons on television. Christy was in the kitchen, making pancakes.

She glanced up as he walked into the room and for a moment they just stared at each other. Then she cleared her throat and turned back to the frying-pan, jiggling it with one hand to stop the pancake burning.

‘Do you want some breakfast?’ She was wearing a pair of jeans that fitted her snugly and the same blue jumper that he’d admired the day before. Her hair was loose, her cheeks were flushed and she looked pretty and far too young to be the mother of the two children watching television in the next room. Alessandro felt a vicious tug of lust that had him backing out of the room. It was just because he hadn’t seen her for two months, he told himself firmly. As soon as he got used to having her around, he’d be able to control himself. Until then, he needed to keep some distance.

‘No, thanks. No breakfast.’ His stomach was growling, the pancakes smelt delicious, but he couldn’t trust himself to be in the same room as her and not grab her. Later, he promised himself, when he had his feelings well and truly under control, they’d talk. ‘I need to get back to the hospital.’

‘Alessandro.’ Her voice was exasperated and she tilted her head to one side, her amazing, fiery hair sliding over her shoulder. ‘You didn’t come in until five and you were out running two hours after that. Even you need to rest some time!’

The only way she could possibly know the detail of his movements with such accuracy was if she hadn’t been able to sleep either.

Registering that fact, he studied her face, saw the colour seep into her cheeks as she realised just how much she’d betrayed. Felt a flash of satisfaction that she wasn’t as indifferent as she appeared to be. Maybe there was hope for them.

‘Just for a few hours this morning,’ he said huskily. ‘We’re ridiculously short-staffed. Everyone is off sick. I’ll be back after lunch.’ Suddenly he wished the children were at school so that he could just grab her and do what he wanted to do. He’d have her on the kitchen table in five seconds flat, naked in ten.

And he had a feeling that she wouldn’t resist.

When had either of them ever been able to hold back in the bedroom? Their mutual passion had always been a driving force in their marriage. It was how they’d solved most of their problems.

‘So short-staffed you’re not even allowed to sleep?’

‘There’s a flu bug going around,’ he muttered, dragging his eyes away from the smooth skin of her neck and trying to kill the erotic images dancing around his brain. ‘Half the nurses are off sick.’

‘You’ll be joining them if you carry on pushing yourself like this,’ she said tightly, and he sighed.

‘You know what A and E is like.’

‘Yes.’ She grabbed some plates and slammed them down on the table with more force than was necessary. ‘I should do. I used to work there and I was married to you for long enough.’

‘Was?’ He repeated the word, a jealous, possessive anger springing to life inside him. She must have detected something ominous in his tone because she looked up at him and he saw the misery in her eyes.

His insides twisted and he ran a hand over the back of his neck to relieve the growing tension. In all their years of marriage, he’d never seen Christy cry. He’d seen her helpless with laughter and wild with temper, but he’d never seen her cry and the shimmering mist of tears in her green eyes brought a sick feeling to the pit of his stomach.

‘Christy—’

The phone rang and Christy leaned across to answer it, clearly relieved at the interruption.

Knowing her as he did, he guessed that such a display of weakness would have horrified her.

Alessandro watched as she pulled herself together. He heard her clear her throat and speak, saw a smile touch her wide, generous mouth and watched her glorious hair slide over her shoulder as she tilted her head and listened. He’d always loved her hair. The colour of autumn leaves, it fell past her shoulders in soft, wild curls. He was so absorbed by the soft, feminine curve of her jaw that he didn’t even realise she’d replaced the receiver.

‘That was Sean.’

‘Nicholson?’ Alessandro struggled to concentrate. ‘Did he want to talk to me?’

‘No.’ Her voice was calm as she reached into the oven for the stack of pancakes she was keeping warm. ‘He wanted to talk to me.’

‘What about?’

Christy put the pancakes in the middle of the table. ‘Working in A and E. He wants me to do bank work for the two weeks leading up to Christmas to cover all the nurses you have off sick.’

Alessandro watched while she reached into the fridge for maple syrup. ‘And you said no.’

‘Actually, I said yes.’ She added a plate of lemon slices and a bowl of sugar to the table.

Alessandro stared at her in blatant astonishment. ‘Why would you say yes?’

Her gaze lifted to his, her green eyes cool. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘Well, because…’ He dragged a hand through his dark hair and frowned, suspecting that he was about to get himself into hot water. ‘Because it’s a long time since you’ve worked in A and E. You’ve been at home with the children for years now and—’

‘And you think my brain has gone to mush?’ Her tone had an edge to it as she reached into the cutlery drawer and withdrew a knife. ‘Why don’t you just say it, Alessandro? You don’t think I’m up to it, do you?’ She slammed the drawer shut with a decisive flick of her hand and Alessandro closed his eyes briefly and wished he’d stayed at the hospital.

‘I’m just thinking of you. You’ve no idea what A and E is like now.’ He spread lean, strong hands to emphasise his point. ‘Every day there’s a new piece of high-tech equipment to master and the work is full on and relentless. Every single day we’re stretched to the limit. And then there’s the violent drunks—’

She put the knife on the table next to the syrup. ‘You don’t think I can cope with a violent drunk?’

Alessandro eyed the dangerous glint in her eye and felt the hot burn of lust spread through his body. He’d always loved her passion and her strength. The fact that she was afraid of nothing. ‘You’re a strong woman, that’s true, querida,’ he drawled, ‘but—’

‘But nothing! Believe it or not, I still have a brain, Alessandro, and giving birth to your children hasn’t changed that fact.’ Passion and fire burned in her eyes and he was suddenly relieved that she’d put the knife down.

‘You’re overreacting.’

‘Well, excuse me, but when I’m patronised I do have a tendency to overreact,’ she said in a dangerously sweet tone. ‘And let’s be honest here for a moment, shall we? You’re not thinking of me. You’re thinking of yourself. You’re afraid I’ll embarrass you. Or that when you get home, your dinner won’t be cooked. Or that I’ll be too tired for sex—’

‘Enough!’ He said the word sharply, his eyes sliding to the door, but there was no sign of the children.

‘Yes, Alessandro. I’ve had enough.’ She glared at him. ‘But you’re not thinking of me, are you? You just don’t want anything to upset the perfect order of your life.’

He inhaled sharply. ‘A and E is busy and challenging and—’

‘And you don’t think I’m up to it,’ Christy repeated, her jaw lifting in a stubborn expression that he knew so well. ‘Well, I’m going to prove you wrong. I was a good nurse, Alessandro. You seem to have forgotten that.’

‘I haven’t forgotten that and you don’t have to prove anything to me,’ Alessandro said stiffly. ‘You’ve been looking after the children and that’s important. It’s enough.’

‘For you, yes. But what if it isn’t enough for me?’ Her voice was strangely flat. ‘You carry on building your career, moving forwards and upwards, and you’ve never once stopped to wonder whether I’m happy standing still.’

Alessandro stared at her. ‘I thought you were happy being at home with the children. Being a practice nurse.’

‘Ben has been in full-time education for three years,’ she replied shortly. ‘And being a practice nurse was a forced decision based on the hours. You know that.’