But what if it hadn’t?
One way to find out! Newsletter in hand, she headed for the phone, trying to work out the time difference in her head. It would be morning in California where the agency had its head office. A quick phone call—that’s all it would take.
‘I’m sorry,’ a female voice told her, after she’d been switched from one person to another for what seemed an interminable time, ‘but the advertiser has recently advised us he has someone in mind for a PA. But we’re involved with another surgeon putting a paediatric cardiac team together for a hospital down in Australia. St James’s Children’s Hospital in a city called Sydney. Starting date in about three months’ time. Would you like to work there?’
Without bothering to explain she was already working in that exact location but in the trial unit, Rachel hung up.
So the advertiser for the clinic in Italy had someone in mind, did he?
Someone called Rachel Lerini?
Had Luca been wooing her, not because he loved her, as he’d so recently professed, but because he needed a PA for his new clinic?
Was that why he’d once asked her about working after marriage?
Although maybe marriage wouldn’t come into it!
Maybe he thought good times in bed and the mention of love would be enough to entice her away from Alex.
Could this really be happening? How could she have given in to attraction against all her better judgement, then—worst of all—fallen in love with the man, and not realised he was using her?
What was she? Stupid?
Damn it all—the signs were all there. He’d told her Italians were practical! But when he’d questioned her on her feelings about having more children, and combining a family and work, she’d thought he was being understanding and empathetic, concerned only for her!
What a fool she’d been.
Pain she’d sworn she’d never feel again seared through her. The pain of loss, grief, betrayal…
She folded the newsletter and shoved it back into the depths of her handbag.
‘You mustn’t frown like that. You are right. The world, on the whole, is a good place. And if we do not keep believing that, and accepting adjustments to our way of life so we can continue to live in freedom, then the bad guys win!’
Luca had returned, unnoticed by her while she was fuming—angry at herself for being conned by a handsome man with a smooth tongue and enticing accent.
Angry at the pain!
So angry she barely heard the words he’d said—barely remembered the conversation that had prompted them.
He sat beside her, but when he put his arm around her shoulders she moved away, her body rigid with distress. Unable to find the words she needed to accuse him of betrayal, she reached down and pulled the newsletter out of her bag, smoothing out the page before shoving it in front of him.
‘Your ad?’
He looked at the ad, then at her, studying her intently, as if trying to read her thoughts.
‘My picture is there—you must know it is an advertisement for my clinic,’ he said quietly, but quietness did nothing to soothe her increasing agitation.
‘And is the PA’s position filled?’ The ice forming again inside her made the words cold, and as clear and sharp as scalpels.
Not that she’d draw blood. He was heartless. Bloodless! He had to be!
‘I do not know,’ he said slowly. ‘I had hoped…’ he added, then stopped, confirming Rachel’s worst fears.
Ice gave way to molten rage.
‘Hoped I might fit the bill? Is that why you made such a play for me? To get a PA for your precious clinic? Is that why you paid me ridiculous compliments, chased after me, even went so far as to say you loved me? Is that what it’s all been about?’
He looked at her, sorrow in his dark eyes, and the love she felt for him pierced her anger, weakening her to the extent she was silently begging him to deny it.
Just one word—that’s all she needed.
One small, gently spoken, slightly accented ‘No’.
She held her breath then let it out in a great whoosh of despair when he said, not no, or even words that meant it.
‘I cannot honestly say it never crossed my mind,’ he told her. ‘But my feelings for you—they’re for you the person, not you the PA. That’s the truth.’
She stared at him, unable to believe he wasn’t protesting more. He should be trying to convince her of his love. Assuring her of it—kissing her even!
‘Truth! It’s just a word to you,’ she snapped. ‘Like trust! I did trust you, Luca, and look what happened. It’s like the clothes you had sent to your apartment without consulting me. You think money buys everything—that whatever you want you can have, and whatever is best for you must be right for anyone else involved. You could have told me about the job, asked me if I’d be interested, but, no, you have the hide to phone the agency—when? The day after we spent the night in bed? That soon?—and you tell them the position is filled. So sure of yourself—of your charm and looks and money—it never occurred to you I might not want your stupid job, or that I might just be having an affair with you for the sake of it.’
She paused, drew a deep breath, then added one huge lie, ‘And I was! It was therapeutic—nothing more. To get over my non-involvement with men. So there!’
The ‘so there’ was definitely childish but she was so upset it had just popped out.
Luca stared at her.
‘Rachel—’ he began, then Alex walked in.
‘Luca?’
‘One moment, Alex, and I will be with you.’
Rachel looked from Luca to Alex, then back to Luca, feeling tension that had nothing to do with her own distress vibrating through the air between the three of them.
She waited for Luca to finish what he’d been about to say, but all he did was look at her with sorrow in his eyes, then he took her hand, lifted it to his lips, and pressed a kiss on it.
‘I must go now,’ he said, and she had the strangest feeling he was saying goodbye, not just for now but for ever.
And in spite of betrayal and pain and rage, she felt her heart break as surely as it had broken when Reece had died.
Numb with despair, she watched him stand up, cross the room to where Alex waited then, with a final glance in her direction, he followed Alex out of the door.
Out of her life?
Why would she think that?
But, given what had happened, why should she care?
CHAPTER TEN
AT FOUR-THIRTY that morning, two long black cars with tinted windows drew up outside the hospital’s staff entrance and a sombre procession led by two burly bodyguards, one carrying a small coffin, trailed from the building to the cars. Two more men assisted a woman who was obviously near collapse, while Alex walked with his arm around a man’s shoulders, talking quietly.
He saw them into the cars, watched them drive away, then went back inside the building, past security men who nodded respectfully at him.
At eight a.m. an ambulance, which had come through the city traffic with its siren shrieking, screamed into the emergency bay at A and E and unloaded a blood-spattered patient. Doctors and nurses ran beside the gurney as it was pushed into A and E and the ambulance drew away, waiting in a parking bay until the attendant who’d accompanied the patient completed his paperwork and returned.
The ambulance driver hated waiting in this particular parking area as it was close to the service exit and laundry trucks were always pulling up there. Service staff milled around, bringing great bundles of laundry out to load into the truck, while other trucks brought fresh linen back, delivering it to the same door, causing traffic chaos because there were never enough parking spaces.
But the chaos helped disguise the fact that a very small baby had been loaded, wrapped like laundry, into the ambulance, and the specialist staff waiting in the back of the vehicle had already hooked him up to monitors and machines that had been put in place earlier at another hospital.
Interstate, presumably, as the ambo driver had orders to take his passengers directly to the airport.
At seven-thirty, as weary staff left the hospital at the end of their night shift, the members of Alex’s surgical team who were still in the hospital mingled with those departing and headed for home. Rachel was grateful for the support of Kurt’s arm around her waist. She was so tense with tiredness she felt a loud noise might split her open, but the tiredness was a boon, for it stopped her thinking about Luca—and about love and betrayal and pain and loss.
Almost stopped her thinking!
She heard a groan escape from her lips and felt Kurt’s arm tighten around her waist.
‘He’ll be quite safe, you know,’ Kurt said, and it took a few minutes for the words to sink in.
‘What do you mean, he’ll be quite safe? Who do you mean?’
She’d stopped walking and Kurt turned to look at her.
‘Luca, of course.’
She watched horror dawn on Kurt’s face.
‘You don’t know?’
He sounded upset, and hesitated, as if uncertain what to tell her.
‘Well?’ she demanded.
‘Luca went with the baby. I thought you knew. I was sure he’d have told you.’
‘He went where with the baby? I fell asleep, remember, and next thing I know the baby had gone.’
‘Back to his own country—the baby’s country, not Luca’s. He went as medical support. Maggie, Phil, Alex, they all wanted to go, but Luca pointed out it would be suspicious if any of the team suddenly disappeared for a few days, while he was not a team member and would not be missed by anyone, even hospital staff, who would assume he had completed his time with Alex and returned home.’
‘And will he return home when he can leave the baby?’
Anguish that she might never see him again—and guilt that they’d parted as they had—bit into her.
Kurt held his arms wide.
‘I don’t know, Rach. I assumed he’d be back but no one actually said anything. I mean, he left with the baby—he didn’t go home and pack or anything.’
‘He has a manager at his apartments who can rustle up food and clothing at the drop of a hat—no doubt he’ll do it for him anyway,’ Rachel said, adding bitterness to all the other hurt inside her. Even in her exhausted state, she could feel her heart icing over.
Luca had been saying goodbye.
‘Did you see the news this morning?’
Maggie asked the question as Kurt and Rachel walked into the rooms the following morning.
‘What news?’
‘Early morning news on TV—they had film of fighting in the streets. Apparently the government in the baby’s country—you know what baby—has been overthrown, and the army is now in control.’
Fear that was colder than the ice around her heart gripped Rachel and though she opened her mouth to ask questions, it was Kurt who spoke.
‘Was the baby’s family with the old government? Do we know that for sure? Maybe the father was connected to the army who are now in control.’
Maggie shrugged.
‘Phil understood they were part of the old governing body,’ she said, ‘but you’d think if they were, they’d have had advance warning of a coup and not returned there.’
‘They would need a hospital for the baby,’ Rachel said. ‘Where else could they have gone?’
‘With Luca on board the plane, maybe they went to Italy. He could have arranged for the baby to be admitted somewhere there.’
But within a day the team learned the plane had landed as scheduled, the family apparently unaware of the new turmoil in their country.
‘They landed and walked right into the hands of the people they’d been trying to avoid,’ Kurt said, as he and Rachel watched the news bulletin that evening. ‘What a waste all our deception was if the rebels got the baby anyway!’
‘There’s no mention of Luca or the baby—just that the family have been imprisoned along with the rest of the previous government,’ Rachel told him, furiously flicking through channels on the television in the hope another news broadcast might tell her more.
‘He’s a foreigner on a humanitarian mission—they won’t hurt him,’ Kurt said, but Rachel found no comfort in the lie. Kurt knew as well as she did that members of humanitarian missions were considered fair game in war-torn countries. ‘And surely they wouldn’t have hurt the baby.’
‘Ho!’ she said. ‘As if! We’re talking about the people who threatened to bomb our entire hospital in order to kill the baby.’
‘Maybe not,’ Kurt argued. ‘As far as we know, all they really wanted was to stop us treating him. I would say that the worst scenario is that Luca’s at the hospital with the baby, and under a kind of house arrest—hospital arrest.’
Kurt was trying to cheer her up, but memories of the way she’d parted from Luca haunted Rachel, and regret for the way she’d spoken—the accusations she’d made—made her heart hurt.
Needing something of him near her, she found the newsletter that had prompted her anger, searching through it for the ad—for his photo.
She ran her fingers across the beloved face, trying to will him safe. She felt helpless, and frustrated by her helplessness.
‘Have you read the article?’ Kurt asked, coming to sit beside her and looking across at the magazine.
Rachel shook her head.
‘I read the ad and that was it,’ she said, looking at the words beneath the photo but unable to focus because of the fear she felt for him.
‘Then give it here. I’ll read it.’
‘Reading a stupid article won’t help rescue him,’ she snapped, not because she was angry with Kurt but because she didn’t want to pass over the photo.
Which was dead-set pathetic!
Kurt refused to be put off, easing it from her fingers and bending his head to read the article that accompanied the photo.
‘Forty-bed clinic specialising in cardiac surgery. Apparently his sister is also a cardiac surgeon, but treats adult patients. They’ll both work there.’
‘He’s got four sisters,’ Rachel said, pulling the stray memory from some recess in her mind.
But Kurt was no longer listening and something in the way he sat drew her attention.
His eyes raced across the page, and every now and then he muttered, ‘Oh, no!’ but it wasn’t until Rachel tried to snatch the newsletter away that he shared what he’d learned.
‘Luca was kidnapped as a child! Remember that funny conversation we had in the lounge—about living with bodyguards? Well, apparently, when he was five he was kidnapped and held for two weeks.’
‘And now he’s being held prisoner again,’ Rachel whispered, horror weakening her bones. ‘Think of the memories it will bring back. Poor Luca!’
Her hands twisted in her lap, desperate for occupation, and in the end she knew she couldn’t sit around doing nothing.
‘I’m going to Italy,’ she announced. ‘I’ll find his family—find out what they’re doing, whether they’ve had contact with him.’
She looked beseechingly at Kurt.
‘Would that be OK, do you think?’
‘I think it would be a great idea,’ he said gently, ‘but you don’t speak the language, Rach. For all you know, Cavaletti might be like Smith or Brown in Italy. How will you find the family?’
‘I’ll take the magazine and point. There’s a photo of the new clinic. I’ll show it to people until someone tells me how to get there—and once I’ve got that far, surely I can find the sister who’s a doctor.’
Kurt shook his head, but whether in disbelief or disapproval she couldn’t tell, neither did she care. She got up and crossed to the phone, dialling Alex’s number, reminding him, when he answered, that she was due holidays.
‘You’re not going t
o do anything stupid?’ Alex asked, and she realised everyone in the team must know about her and Luca. Remembering a conversation they’d had on this subject, she found she didn’t mind one bit.
‘I’m going to Italy,’ she said. ‘I can’t sit here not knowing what’s happening. Ned’s good enough at his work to take my place.’
‘You go with my blessing—our blessing, because Annie’s here by my side. You phone the airlines and I’ll see if I can get in touch with someone at Luca’s practice—it will be morning over there. Call me back when you have a flight number and arrival time.’
Rachel let the phone drop back into its cradle, tears she couldn’t control sliding down her cheeks.
‘Damn it all! Alex gave you bad news over the phone!’
Kurt was beside her, hugging her, patting her back and smoothing her hair in comfort.
Rachel couldn’t speak but shook her head and let the tears dampen his shirt. Then the storm passed and she raised her head.
‘It wasn’t bad news,’ she said, smiling weakly at her comforter. ‘But Alex was so kind and understanding and helpful, it was too much for me, and suddenly I was crying.’
She sniffed back the last remnants of tears and offered him another watery smile.
‘I’m better now. I have to phone the airlines.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Kurt offered. ‘You get yourself a cup of coffee and sit down.’
Two hours later she was booked on a flight that left Sydney early the following morning for Rome with a connecting flight to Milan.
‘Someone will meet you in Milan,’ Alex, who’d insisted on driving her to the airport, told her as he followed her as far as the security check. Then he took her hand and said, ‘Good luck, Rachel. You know all our love and best wishes are with you. If ever a woman deserved a happy ending, it’s you.’
He kissed her on the cheek, and with tears again coursing down her cheeks she walked through the metal detector and waited for her hand-luggage to be scanned.
Security checks!
Luca had been right—if they didn’t accept the adjustments they had to make, and get on with their lives, then the ‘bad guys’, as he’d called them, would win. In the world of medicine, there was no differentiating between the good guys and the bad guys—if people needed care they should get it. And in so many instances there were no good or bad guys, just people with different beliefs.
The Italian Surgeon Page 13
