Her Brooding Italian Surgeon (11 page)

Don't even go there.

‘Hey, Uncle Leo!'

A group of girls led by identical twins headed straight towards them and Abbie, needing some space to round up her wayward daydreams, slipped away and let the group surround
him. She piled a plate high with food, filled a glass with refreshing
limonata
and sat down to eat, her eyes never far from Leo.

From what she could work out, he'd organised the girls into groups and appeared to be setting up some sort of game. Whatever it was, he had their complete attention and cooperation. The relaxed expression on his face was apparent through his entire body and there was no sign of any resentment that the kids had ambushed him and interrupted him. She thought about how he'd gone out of his way for Alec and she realised with a jolt that he was a man who genuinely liked kids.

So what; it changes nothing
. And it didn't. She'd given up on her dreams of motherhood when she'd realised she couldn't trust her judgement in men and no child should have the instability she'd had. As much as she knew she could make arrangements to have a child on her own, she hadn't quite been able to work through the chestnut that her child would never know his or her father. She ripped open the bread roll and shoved in roasted capsicums and eggplant. So what if Leo was great with kids? Why had her mind even gone there? He was adamant he didn't want any permanency in relationships so that meant he didn't want children and neither did she.

The increasingly niggling questions about his marriage to Christina reared their heads again and she tried to bat them away but they stayed, demanding answers.

Anna slid into a chair next to her and tilted her head towards her brother. ‘King of the kids is my big brother. It's a shame he doesn't have any of his own.'

Abbie sipped her lemon drink. ‘Everyone makes their own life choices. Marriage and family doesn't suit everyone.'

‘It works when you choose the right partner.' Anna's keen gaze zeroed in on Abbie. ‘He's been remarkably relaxed these last few weeks.'

Abbie knew dangerous territory when she saw it so she bit into her crusty bread but Anna kept her speculative stare firmly on her. ‘Perhaps he just needed a holiday.'

Anna laughed. ‘Is that what you're both calling it?' But her face immediately sobered. ‘Abbie, I love Leo with all my heart but ever since his divorce he's run from commitment like it was the plague. Please be careful.'

Abbie squeezed the woman's arm. ‘Anna, there's nothing to be careful of. Leo and I are having fun, nothing more and nothing less.' But as every hour she spent with Leo ticked by it was harder and harder to convince herself that fun was all it was.

 

The huge white lights lit up the vineyard like a night match at the Melbourne Cricket Ground and the grape pickers moved along the rows like locusts. Leo finished his row and turned to see Abbie, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her lips in concentration as she snipped bunches of grapes from the vine.

Her eyes shone brightly and her curls seemed even wilder than usual in the cool air of the night. God, he loved her hair. He loved its sweet scent, the silky way it stroked his skin when they had sex, and the sense of peace that filled him when he buried his face in it. He couldn't get enough of Abbie and usually at eleven o'clock at night he was wrapped around her in her bed, forcing himself to leave her so he didn't have to face a million questions from Anna in the morning if he missed breakfast.

He walked up behind Abbie, plucked the secateurs from her hand and dropped his face into her hair, resisting the urge to tell her how gorgeous she was. Unlike most women, compliments seemed to make her edgy, which was probably a legacy from that controlling bastard, Greg. A legacy he wished he
could wipe away. ‘I've fulfilled the tradition of each family member harvesting a row.'

She turned in his arms. ‘I have a new respect for fruit pickers. It's really hard work.'

‘So is being a doctor, so come on, we've got to be at work in eight hours.'

‘Thank goodness; my shoulders are killing me.'

He stared down at her and smiled. ‘I'll give you a massage before you go to sleep.'

Abbie tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. ‘Ah, sleep, what a glorious thought.'

Disproportionate disappointment rammed him.

She laughed and kissed him. ‘Don't ever play cards, Leo; you'll lose.'

She pressed in close to him as they walked the two-kilometre distance back to the house. The further away they got from the bright lights, the more the Milky Way appeared, a carpet of stars twinkling high above them in the clear, dark sky. ‘I had no idea picking grapes at night meant less splitting and a lower risk of oxidation.'

He loved the enthusiasm she had for all sorts of things. ‘What else did you learn tonight?'

‘That Anna knows we're having sex.'

He stopped short and slapped his hand against his forehead, knowing exactly what his sister was like. ‘What did she say to you?'

Abbie's mouth quirked up at the corners. ‘Nothing to panic about. It wasn't anything I didn't already know. She just said that since your divorce you were a commitment-phobe.' She looked up at him. ‘Does your family know why you married Christina?'

His gut tightened and he realised with a shock that Abbie was the first person he'd ever told the truth about his marriage.
‘They thought I was trying to hold on to Dom and if they had their suspicions about a child they didn't ask and they were too numb with grief to question anything. They weren't happy but what could they do; we were adults in law.' He bit his lip. ‘I never told them about the baby—they had enough to deal with.'

Abbie's arm tightened around his waist. ‘You did an incredibly selfless thing.'
Misguided but selfless
.

He pulled away as the memories roared back. ‘
No
, I didn't. All I ended up doing was hurting the woman my brother loved and doing a pretty good job on damaging her life as well. We'd had the expectation of a baby, something that was part of Dom, and then we were left with nothing.' He started walking, needing to move. ‘She was distraught and needy and wanted to try for another baby. I was struggling to study and working to keep us solvent and a child wasn't something I could deal with right then. I buried myself in study and work and she took solace in medication until one night she took too much. After they'd pumped her stomach she asked me for a divorce. She told me the shame of returning to her village as a divorcée was better than the living hell of being married to me. I thought marrying her was the right thing to do but all I did was drive her mad and exacerbate her grief.'

Sadness loomed large in Abbie's eyes and her hand touched his arm, her fingers gripping him. ‘I'm sorry. I doubt you made her depression worse. It would have been hard for both of you.'

He stopped walking and dropped his face into her hair, needing to breathe in her soothing scent and trying to push away the part of his life he usually kept under control. ‘All I know is that no relationship is worth the hurt and when kids are involved it's even worse.'

She leaned back slightly, a small frown line forming across the bridge of her nose. ‘But what about now? Do you regret not having kids of your own?'

The tightness in his gut unexpectedly extended to his chest and his words shot out overly loud and defensive. ‘I've got a heap of nieces and nephews.'

She patted his arm. ‘That's what I told Anna.'

She understands.
The insight rocked through him, seeping into places untouched for so long by any hint of a real connection with someone. No one in his family understood why he hadn't remarried or had children, especially his sisters. Women usually wanted babies and the thought snagged him. ‘What about you, though? Most women I meet want to have children.'

She stiffened against him and her tension ringed him. ‘I'm not most women, Leo, you know that.' A tremble ran through her voice. ‘I don't want to have a child on my own and with my track record I don't trust myself enough to choose the type of man who'd value me and a child more than himself.'

A finger of sadness crept through him at how much Greg had scarred her, despite him understanding her choice.

A joyous bark pierced the night air and Murphy bounded to the gate as they reached the home paddock garden. Her body slackened against his and she laughed. ‘Besides, I've got Murphy and I'm involved with kids at work and at the shelter so I get plenty of kid time. Just like you get with your nieces and nephews when you visit.' She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him, her eyes filled with the simmering glow he recognised so well. ‘All care and no responsibility, right?'

‘Absolutely. All care and no responsibility.' He grinned down at her, loving that she thought along the same lines as him. Sex, fun and good times. Meeting Abbie had been the saving grace of being back in Bandarra. Leaning forward, he returned her kiss, melding his mouth to hers and completely ignoring the ache that throbbed under his ribs.

T
HE
beeping of the alarm slowly penetrated through the many layers of Abbie's deep and peaceful sleep. Consciousness came at a leisurely pace—her body, cocooned in warmth and comfort, was not willing to give up its slumberous tranquillity easily and it held out until the vague and annoying noise became harsh and incessant.

Leo's chest was spooned into her back and his arm curled around her with his hand gently cupping a breast. A very tender breast which ached from the light touch. She moved his hand slightly.

He groaned as the beeping continued. ‘Turn the damn thing off.'

Now fully awake, she reached out and shut off the noise as a shower of delight rushed through her. Leo had stayed the whole night for the first time, having declared that if Anna knew they were sleeping together there was no point in pretending otherwise and turning up for breakfast.

Abbie rolled over and stretched her arms above her head, feeling renewed and energised in a way that only restful sleep could deliver. She hadn't slept like that in— Her brain stalled. She couldn't even remember. She kissed him on the nose. ‘We have to get up.'

One black eye opened and glared at her before closing again.

She ran a finger down his spine. ‘I gather you're not a morning person.'

He raised himself on an elbow and gave her a wide smile. ‘I think you'll agree I do my best work at night.'

She wriggled her nose. ‘Well, I can't possibly agree with that statement until I have all the numbers, and morning statistics are definitely lacking.'

An imaginative glint streaked through his eyes. ‘I love a challenge.'

She kissed him and then pushed at his shoulders. ‘Take it on notice then, Mr Costa, because it's Wednesday. You've got a full Theatre list this morning.'

He ran his hand through his thick hair with the remnants of sleep still lingering around his eyes. ‘A full list? I usually do half days.'

‘Don't ask me; you were the one who suggested it at our first planning meeting and you need to get going because the visiting anaesthetist from Melbourne gets grumpy if he misses his evening flight back to Melbourne.'

A look of disgust crossed his face. ‘People need to pull their heads out of their closeted world. The days of not being able to get decent food outside of Melbourne are long gone. We should delay him and take him to Anna's restaurant, which is equal to anything in Melbourne.'

Surprise slugged her and a tiny seed of hope unexpectedly sprouted. She didn't even bother to quash it. ‘Sounds like you're reconnecting with Bandarra?'

He shrugged. ‘I just choose not to visit very often but that doesn't make me disconnected.'

But she knew that was a lie. Bandarra had too many ghosts for him.
It's Wednesday.
The words crashed into her brain like an out-of-control semi-trailer and she froze. Wednesday the
twenty-seventh. The anniversary of his brother's death. Suddenly the reason for his full list become stunningly clear—he planned to ignore the anniversary, just as he'd always done.

Frustration and concern tumbled in her gut. Leo needed to grieve for his brother in a healthy way so he could see that he wasn't responsible for his death and that his misguided atonement hadn't been the sole reason for Christina's depression.

Leave it alone; don't get involved.
Warrior Abbie snapped her book shut with a bang and, for the first time in a long time, concern hovered on her face. Abbie stared her down and extended her hand, demanding her warrior's sword.
He needs me to fight for him.

He won't want you to; he won't thank you.

I have to. I love him.

She gasped as the last of her protective blinkers crashed to the ground and her heart broke free of the now frayed restraints. Restraints that had been worn away over the last few weeks by the essence of a man who hid his real self from the world.

‘You OK?' Care and concern flared in Leo's eyes.

No!
Panic doused her, making every muscle twitch and jump. She was as far from OK as she could possibly be but she couldn't let him know that. ‘Look at the time!' She threw back the sheets and ran to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Sinking to the floor, she laid her head in her hands. Bile scalded her throat, her stomach roiled and churned, and despair dumped over her like a towering wave.

She loved Leo.

Her heart spasmed. Dear God, how stupid had she been? From the moment he'd looked into her eyes at the waterhole and told her he needed her, she'd been a goner. She'd been kidding herself ever since. From that moment, along with the picnics, the conversations that went long into the night and meeting his family, her desire for him had only continued to
grow but in a totally different way. A bone-deep way that made lust look sad and superficial.

She'd fallen in love with a man who only wanted the superficial.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!

She dragged in a breath, trying to find calm. Leo was only here for another week and then he would be gone. Nothing had to change with their plan just because she'd broken her side of the bargain. Her heart cramped so hard she caught her breath and then she flinched as her excruciatingly tender breasts touched her knees. She stretched her legs out in front of her, welcoming the coolness of the tiles.

She'd never thought love could be such a physical pain.

‘Abbie? Are you sure you're OK? Can I use the shower?'

Leo's voice sounded muffled through the closed door.

Alarm zinged through her. She couldn't let him see her like this because he'd start asking questions. She just needed a few more minutes to pull herself together. ‘Use the back bathroom. There are towels and soap all there.'

Hauling herself to her feet, she turned on her own shower, catching the slow-to-warm water in a bucket until the hot finally came through. As she moved the bucket she saw there was no soap in the holder so she bobbed down and opened the vanity. A shampoo bottle fell out of the overcrowded cupboard and she made a mental note to clean out the clutter. As she replaced the shampoo her fingers brushed a box of tampons. A thought snagged her. It seemed a long time since she'd used one. When had she last had a period? Her mind creaked backwards.
Before Leo arrived
.

All her blood drained to her feet and she swayed as her brain melted. ‘I have an IUD.' She muttered the words in an attempt to slow the panic that tore through her. ‘They have a ninety-nine per cent success rate. Periods are late when life is different. Breasts are tender when cycles are longer.'

But even when her life had been totally chaotic when she was a teenager and when she'd been strung-out living in the minefield that had been her relationship with Greg, she'd never missed a period. A wave of nausea hit her and she kept muttering, trying to hold on to faltering control. ‘Stop it. You're stressed, so of course you feel sick. It's just an association of ideas.' She tried to put a stop to the rising mountain of evidence in her head. She was a doctor, a scientist and she operated on facts, not supposition. An HCG urine test was the only definitive diagnosis and an early morning urine sample the most reliable.

Whipping a towel off the rail, she clumsily tied it around her and dashed into the hall, grabbing her medical bag, and giving thanks that Leo was in the other shower and not able to question her.

She ran back, locking the bathroom door behind her and somehow with trembling hands managed to open the packaging, tearing frantically at the thick plastic cover. Passing urine was the easy part. Waiting the three minutes was an eternity. So she didn't go crazy; she had a shower, dried herself and then closed her eyes and breathed in and out three times.
You're overreacting. It's going to be one blue line.

She opened her eyes and the stick shot into focus.

Two blue lines.

She put her head over the toilet and vomited.

 

‘Leo, your
nonna
has rung the switchboard every hour this morning; your mother called twice, Anna called and Chiara left a message.' Erin walked into the doctor's lounge waving a sheaf of yellow pieces of paper.

Leo was grabbing a quick bite to eat before he headed back to Theatre. He knew exactly what the messages were about. Nonna wanted him to go with her to the billabong and had sent in the troops as extra backup. He didn't want to speak to any
of them. Just because he was in Bandarra today didn't mean he was changing his behaviour. No way was he going out to Wadjera billabong.

You went with Abbie.

An image of Abbie in his arms with her head thrown back against the tree and her eyes wide with the wonder of an orgasm slammed into him and his breath jammed in his throat, causing him to cough.

Go back today with Abbie.
The thought circulated, gathering momentum.

He clenched his teeth.
I'm never going back.
Going back wouldn't achieve a thing, and he abruptly extinguished the thought. He'd let his brother down the day he died, he'd let Christina down, and revisiting the scene wouldn't absolve him of that. Instead, he had his day all planned out and his night as well, and all of it added up to work. He might be ‘home' but he was an adult and not subject to being told what to do—not by his father, mother or grandmother.

‘Is it your birthday?' Erin winked at him as she handed him the messages. ‘You better buy us cake if it is.'

He dragged up a smile. ‘If I bring in tiramisu tomorrow do you think Helen on the switchboard would ring them all and say I got the messages but I'm tied up in Theatre for the whole day?' It was easier to lie by omission than go into the truth.

Erin laughed. ‘For cake and for you, I'm sure that can be arranged. See you in ten.'

She walked out and the visiting anaesthetist looked up from his paper. ‘Now that's a change.'

Leo hadn't warmed to his colleague but working harmony deemed he be polite. ‘Sorry, I don't follow?'

The other doctor folded the paper in half. ‘You have to admit, compared to frumpy McFarlane, that bit of skirt's worth looking at.'

A cold anger chilled Leo to his marrow. ‘Abbie McFarlane is a fine doctor.'

‘Sure she is, but you have to admit she's nothing to write home about.'

Somehow he managed not to lunge at the self-satisfied bastard's throat. ‘Look at her eyes next time you see her and try calling her plain after that.'

‘Mate, you surprise me.' He gave Leo a man-to-man leer. ‘It's not the window to the soul that interests me about a woman.'

Revulsion filled him. Surely he'd never been that shallow but his father's voice mocked him.
Beautiful women who fill your bed but not your soul
. He downed his coffee. ‘We need to get back to it.'

The anaesthetist rose to his feet. ‘What the hell were you thinking when you drew up this list?'

Leo managed to grind the words out. ‘I like to keep busy.'

‘We're going to be here until well after dark,' the anaesthetist grumbled.

‘That's the general idea.'

But his colleague didn't hear the muttered words, having already left the room.

 

Abbie stared into space. Thirty hours had passed since the two blue lines on her pregnancy test had burned into her retinas. Ever since that moment, everything she looked at was framed by those lines. Two uncompromising lines.

Pregnant.

A baby.

Motherhood.

It was the best and worst possible news.

She re-spun the pregnancy wheel and chewed her lip. By her reckoning, she was four weeks pregnant and she'd worked that
out so often she'd worn the date off the wheel. Just pregnant but pregnant enough to know her life had irrevocably changed. The doctor in her knew she had to see an obstetrician as soon as possible to have the IUD removed. Those sorts of practical decisions were the easy ones. Telling Leo—that came under the banner of way too hard. He'd already married one woman out of a misguided sense of duty and that was still eating him alive.

I love kids… No relationship is worth the hurt and when kids are involved it's even worse.

She put her head down on her desk and dragged her fingers through her hair. She loved a man who didn't want a relationship or children, and she was pregnant with his child. A man who would feel honour bound to do the right thing, no matter how much he hated the thought. How much more of a disaster could she have possibly plunged herself into?

She sat up and drank a glass of water. She hadn't seen or spoken to Leo since yesterday morning because he'd gone into self-imposed hiding to get through the anniversary of Dom's death. It hadn't surprised her at all when his text had come through saying,
Delayed at work. Tomorrow night, I promise. Leo X
.

Leo, the man she loved. The father of her baby.

Her phone beeped and she read the screen.
We'll cook gnocchi together at your place. L X

She smiled and a warm cosy feeling pushed aside all her anxieties.
Food is not just for a hungry belly. It feeds the soul.
She hadn't understood what Maria had meant when she'd told her that but now she did. When you cooked with someone or for someone you loved then the love transferred to the food.

Leo wanted to cook with her. Leo wanted to stay the whole night with her. He wanted to be with her. The hope that had sprouted yesterday grew taller and, like the grapevine, tendrils curled around her heart, anchoring fast. Would he want to stay for ever because he wanted to?

She bit her lip again, this time tasting blood. During the early hours of the morning, with his masculine scent still on her sheets from the previous night, and with his tender voice in her head, she'd conjured up fairy tales of them together as a couple, together as parents of a black-haired, black-eyed baby and surrounded by the love of his family. A family so unlike her own, a family who adored children. The urge to ring him right then and blurt out the news had almost overpowered her.