by Annie O'Neil
Fran pulled Pia’s hands into hers and gave each set of the girl’s knuckles a quick kiss. “Don’t you worry, amore. As long as I’m here we’ll make sure your uncle is looked after.”
No matter how hard a task it was.
They both looked across to where Luca was standing. He’d stepped away from the crowd now, and a smattering of antipasti was near enough tipping off the plate he barely seemed to notice he was holding.
The team of doctors and support staff had all formed groups, or were crowding around the table, piling delicacies onto their own plates. Luca’s body was drawn up to his full height. Six feet of leave me alone. His attention was utterly unwavering as he gazed upon the clinic’s entryway. His expression was hooded, once again, heavy with the burden of all that had yet to be done.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LUCA SAW THE helicopter before he heard it. A tiny speck heading in from Florence—the whirring blades, the long body of a medical helicopter with its telltale red cross on the undercarriage coming into view as it crested the “hills,” as Francesca insisted upon calling them.
As if his thinking her name had conjured her up, she appeared by his side. “Are you excited?”
“Focused. I have my first surgery today. Shouldn’t you be working with Pia? Where are the dogs?”
Fran gave him a sidelong look, clearly unimpressed by his curt tone. “They’re with her algebra tutor. Pia wanted me to give you this.” She handed him an envelope, but not before shooting him a ha!-take-that look. “She wanted to wish you luck,” she continued. “As do I.”
Luca pushed the card into his pocket, returning his gaze to the approaching helicopter.
This is work. Fran is...pleasure. There’s no room for pleasure in my life.
Despite himself, he turned and watched Fran as she tracked the arrival of the elicottero, her chin tipped up toward the sky, the movement elongating the length of her slender neck, the fine outline of her face, the sweet spot where her neck met her jaw. If he were to kiss her there would she groan or whimper with pleasure? Would her legs slip up and around his waist, tugging him in deeper, more fully into her, so that with each thrust he took—
“Dr. Montovano?”
“Si, Elisa?” He stopped and corrected himself. “Dr. Sovani. What can I do for you?”
Luca forced his attention to narrow and focus as the doctor rattled through the plans for their patient’s arrival and presurgical procedures. He didn’t miss Fran’s fingers sweeping up to cover the twist of her lips—a snigger at his obviously divided attentions.
She’d obviously caught him staring. Seen the desire in his eyes.
Something in him snapped. Didn’t she know how vital today was for him and the clinic? The bank had already been on the phone that morning to remind him. Tick-tock.
“Miss Martinelli, do you mind? We’ve got a surgery to prepare for.”
She didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to. Disdain for his dismissive tone was written all over her face.
“Did you want Paolo to go up to the main buildings first, or to his quarters?” Dr. Sovani asked.
“We should get him straight to a prep room.” Luca blinkered his vision, forced himself to train his eyes on Elisa’s clipboard. “He’ll be tired after his journey, and his family would no doubt like to see him settled. The operation isn’t for a couple of hours, and we’ll need him at his strongest. Are his parents in the chopper with him?”
“They’re arriving by car.”
As if on cue, a couple appeared in the archway leading to the helicopter landing area, two young children alongside them, all eyes trained on the sky as their loved one approached.
The instant the helicopter touched down, the air was filled with rapid-fire instructions, questions and action.
Fran was nowhere to be seen.
“Ciao, Paolo.” Luca strode to the teenager’s side once the heli-medics had lifted him into his wheelchair and ensured the helmet protecting his skull was in place. “What do you say we head to the clinic and get you settled?”
* * *
If Pia hadn’t asked, Fran wouldn’t have dreamed of stepping foot anywhere near the clinic. But she’d pleaded with Fran to let her take a break from her studies and watch her uncle in surgery. Now that they were here, in the observation room, she had to admit it was amazing.
“Can you turn the speaker up, please, Francesca?” Pia’s fingers were covering her mouth, and her body was taut, as if she were watching a blockbuster movie, not a surgery meant to restore a portion of a patient’s skull.
“Do you know what happened to him?” Fran asked.
“I don’t know the whole story, but he was in a moto accident, I think. A year ago. They had to take out part of his skull because of the swelling. The surgeons in Florence said Zio Luca would be the best person to replace it, so they’ve waited until now. The last thing he needed was a terrible surgeon and to be left with a dent in his head!”
Fran smiled at the pride in Pia’s voice. Of course she was proud. Her surgeon uncle was finally doing what he loved best. Fran could see that now. Sure, he had held his own with a hammer, and seemed to have no problem understanding complicated spreadsheets—but this... Seeing him here in the operating theater was mesmerizing.
The assured sound of his voice as he spoke to the nurses turned her knees to putty, and the exacting movement of his hands was both delicate and confident. It was little wonder he’d seemed like a pent-up ball of frustration in the week leading up to the clinic’s opening. He hadn’t been doing what he obviously did best: medicine.
“Francesca?” Pia was tapping a finger on her hand.
“Yes—sorry. What is it, amore?”
Pia giggled, then singsonged, “Someone’s got a crush on Zio Luca!”
“I do not!” Fran protested. A bit too hotly, maybe. Just a little. But in a never-ever-going-to-happen kind of way. A flight of fancy.
“Just as well.” Pia returned her gaze to the OR window as if she saw that sort of thing all the time. “He’s a terrible boyfriend. Too bad you’re the only girlfriend I like.”
“And you can carry on liking me. Just not as your uncle’s girlfriend.”
“Maybe not now...” Pia teased, her eyes still glued to her uncle.
Maybe not ever, Fran told herself, refusing to let the seeds of imagination take root. It was far too easy to imagine those hands touching her body. His full lips, now hidden behind a surgical mask, touching and tasting her own...
She froze when she realized Luca was looking at her. His eyebrows cinched together in confusion. He obviously hadn’t been aware he had an audience. Then they lifted, and little crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes as if he were smiling behind his mask.
A whirl of something heated took a tour around her chest and swirled lazily in her stomach.
All she could think of to do was to point at Pia, then give him a double thumbs-up and a cheesy grin as if he’d just managed to flip a pancake, not perform an incredibly intricate reconstructive surgery.
What an idiot!
If she’d stood even the tiniest chance of being Luca’s girlfriend a second ago—not that she wanted to be his girlfriend—she’d definitely closed the door of opportunity right down. Luca only took people seriously if they were serious. Whether he thought she was cute or not was beside the point. She wanted him to take her as seriously as she took him.
Pia and the dogs. She needed to repeat it like a mantra. Pia and the dogs. They were her only focus. Not the other patients. Not the beautiful village. Not the tall, dark and enigmatically talented surgeon putting the final stitches into his first surgery at his new clinic.
He was a picture of utter concentration.
There wasn’t room for her in his life.
Never had been.
N
ever would be.
The best thing she could do now was focus on getting Pia up to speed, then going home and mending fences with her father. He was the only man she should be worrying about impressing.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A SURGE OF pride filled Luca’s heart on seeing the new ramps and pathways being put to use as they’d been intended.
Just a few days in and Mont di Mare felt alive. More dynamic than it had in years.
His sister would be so proud of what they’d done with the place. If only bank loans could be repaid with good feelings...
Never mind. Treatments were underway. However slowly, payments were starting to come in to counterbalance the flood of outgoing costs.
The surgery with Paolo had gone as smoothly as he’d hoped. The teenager was already out of Recovery, and at this very moment discussing the litany of tests he would be going through to combat further deterioration in the wake of his paralysis.
Luca itched to join Paolo’s team, to be part of adding more movement to the young man’s upper body after his motor scooter accident had paralyzed him from the waist down. It was a similar injury to his niece’s, only he’d received next to no physio in the wake of his accident.
The lack of strength in his upper body was startling. Just thinking about the various avenues of treatment they could explore made him smile.
“Dr. Montovano?” Elisa appeared at the doorway. “We’ve got Giuliana, ready to discuss her case with you.”
“Great! Is she in her room?”
“No, she’s over by the pool, speaking with your...your friend?”
Luca’s brow cinched. “Friend?”
“You know—the one with the dogs.”
“Ah. Francesca. No, she’s not a friend. She’s here to work with Pia.”
The words hit false notes even as they came out. A familiar feeling began to take hold of him. The feeling that he’d started to let someone in and then, slowly but surely, had begun to push her away again. Just as he’d done with Marina. Just as he’d done with the women before her.
Elisa shifted uncomfortably, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. “Apologies... We weren’t sure...”
“We?” Luca’s alarm bells started ringing.
“The team. We didn’t—she just...” Elisa’s eyes scanned his office in a panic. “She seems to do a lot more than someone who is just here with the assistance dogs would.”
“Yes, she’s very...American,” he said, as if it explained everything.
Elisa nodded, clearly none the wiser.
“Va bene,” he said, in a tone he knew suggested otherwise. “Shall we go and have a chat with Giuliana?”
* * *
“It’s all right. You can pet him if you like.” Fran smiled at the teen, well aware that Giuliana’s fingers had been twitching on her wheelchair arm supports ever since she and Edison had appeared in the courtyard adjacent to the infinity pool.
The pool she was absolutely dying to jump into now that summer had well and truly made an appearance.
When Giuliana’s parents had mistaken her for medical staff and asked if she would look after their daughter while they went to see her room, she had said yes.
Foolish? Perhaps.
But everyone was operating at full capacity now that the clinic was open, and with Pia already busy with her studies what harm could a little babysitting do?
The dark-haired girl looked across at her with a despondent look. “It’s my arms. They’re just so weak.”
“You’ve got to start somewhere,” Fran reminded her gently. “Not to mention the fact you’re in the perfect place to start rebuilding that strength.”
Fran tried to shake away the problem with a smile, hiding an internal sympathy twinge. Giuliana’s arms were strapped to stabilizing arm troughs and wrist supports on her chair. They were so thin it was almost frightening.
“Edison.” Fran issued a couple of commands and the Lab bounded over and sat alongside Giuliana, so that his head was directly in line with the armrest. “Is it all right if I undo your strap?”
A hint of anxiety crossed the girl’s eyes. “Are my parents back yet?”
Fran looked around, vividly aware of how restricted the poor girl’s movement was. Her neck was being cradled by two contoured pads and it didn’t seem as if she had the strength—let alone the capacity—to turn it left or right.
“They don’t seem to be. They were going to look at your room, right?”
“Si...” Giuliana replied glumly. “They have to approve every single little thing before I am even allowed to see it. I can hardly believe they left me alone with you.”
Tough for any teen to have helicopter parents. Even harder when there was zero choice in the matter.
Fran bit her cheek when Giuliana gave the telltale eye roll of an exasperated teen. She didn’t know how many times she’d rolled her eyes behind her dad’s back when he’d made yet another unilateral decision on her behalf.
Her hand slipped to her back pocket to check her phone was still there. They hadn’t talked yet today.
Time zones.
She’d call him later. Just knowing he’d pick up the phone now, close his laptop and really talk to her, made such a difference. Giuliana might find her parents annoying, but at least they were there for her.
“It doesn’t really hurt when my hands are out of the supports...” Giuliana was saying.
“Do you mind me asking what happened?”
“Skiing.” The word sounded as lifeless as the faraway look in Giuliana’s eyes.
“Where was the injury?” Fran asked.
When she’d been a physio being straightforward with her questions had usually paid dividends. No need to tiptoe around patients who were facing a life of paralysis.
“Grade-four whiplash. Cervical spine fracture.”
“C1?” Francesca asked, her jaw dropping. Most people would have died.
“C2.”
“Oof! That must’ve hurt.” Fran’s features widened into a “youch” face. She was still lucky. C2 fractures often resulted in fatalities.
“Quite the opposite,” Giuliana answered drily. “I didn’t feel a thing.”
“Ha! Of course you didn’t!”
Fran hooted with laughter before registering the look of disbelief on Giuliana’s face. Oops.
“I’m sorry, amore. You’ll have to forgive me. I’m used to talking to dogs, not humans. I am a class-A expert in Open Mouth, Insert Foot.”
Giuliana considered her for a moment, then gave a wry smile. “Actually, it was my test. You just passed.”
“Oh!” Fran gave a little wriggle of pride that morphed into a hunch of concern. “Wait a minute. What kind of test?”
“A test to see who will laugh at the poor crippled girl’s joke.”
“A joke test?”
“A litmus test,” Giuliana answered solidly. “Most people don’t even ask me what happened. They just look at me with big sad eyes, like I’m on the brink of death or something. I’m paralyzed. Not deaf or blind!”
And not bereft of spirit either, from the looks of things.
Fran let loose an appreciative whoop of respect. “You go, girl!” She put her hand up in a fist bump, rolled her eyes at her second idiotic move within as many minutes, then put her fist to Giuliana’s anyway. “Forgive me. Again. You’re here for the summer?”
Giuliana nodded, amusement skittering through her eyes.
“Well, I don’t know what your doctor’s plans are, but by the end of our stay what do you say we work toward a proper fist bump?”
“What? So you can be ‘down with the kids’?” Giuliana giggled, as if the idea of Francesca being down with the kids was quite the challenge.
“Yeah!” Fran parried, str
iking a silly pose. “That’s how I roll. Hey! I have an idea.” She positioned herself so she was at eye level with Giuliana. “How crazy are you feeling today?”
“In what way?”
The teen’s brow crinkled and it was all Fran could do not to reach out and give it a soothing caress. She couldn’t promise the girl that everything would be all right, and nor did she have the right to do anything other than what Luca had hired her to do, but...
“Well, Edison here is my number one gentle dog...”
It wasn’t a lie. Not really. Her other number one dog was already completely under Pia’s command.
“If you’d like to pet him, it seems to me the easiest way to do it would be if we unstrapped you. I would be right behind you, supporting your elbow, and Edison is very good at holding his head still.”
The glimmer of excitement in Giuliana’s eyes was all the encouragement Fran needed. Ever so gently, Fran lifted the girl’s frail arm out of the rest and settled it in her lap for a moment.
“Is it all right if I put a treat in your hand?” Fran asked. “It’s a sure-fire way to get Edison’s full attention.”
“I don’t know how well I’ll be able to hold it.”
“Not a problem. I’ll support you.”
Fran pinched a treat out of her belt pouch, placed it between Giuliana’s fragile fingers with Edison sitting at full attention at her feet. Then Fran shifted around behind the wheelchair, so she could provide support for the girl’s elbow. It surprised her to feel how rigid the poor thing’s arm was—similar to some of the elderly people she’d worked with years ago. Something deep within her bridled. How awful to have to live like this with your whole life in front of you!
Don’t get attached, Fran! You gave up on people for a reason. First, fix things with your father...
Her thoughts faded as instinctively she began to massage the girl’s arm. Stroking and smoothing her fingers along the length of the musculature, teasing some suppleness into the brittle length of her arm.
“Come, Edison. Want a treat?”
