Tempted by the Bridesmaid

by Annie O'Neil

  Edison duly loped off. Returned. Totally obedient.

  “C’mon, boy. Drop the ball. There’s a good boy,” she cooed. “You always do everything I ask.”

  Her eyes pinged wide. Was that why she’d switched to dogs? Because they always did what she wanted? That couldn’t possibly be what she was hoping for in a man. Obedience?

  No! Ridiculous. She wanted a man with his own mind, his own interests—but his heart? She wanted that to beat solely for her. And no matter how smitten Luca seemed between the hours of 10 p.m. and whenever they’d exhausted each other, she knew his heart was well and truly off-limits.

  “Good boy. Drop the ball.” This time she threw it extra hard, her eyes widening in horror when she saw where it had landed. At the far end of the very pristine, very new, entirely immaculate swimming pool...now getting dive-bombed by a thrilled Labrador.

  Pia was nearly crying with laughter.

  “Can he pull me around now, Francesca? Per favore? Bravo, Edison! Vieni qui.”

  “No way!” Fran whispered as if it would make the scenario disappear.

  She pulled off the sundress she was wearing over her bikini and dove into the pool, as if she would be able to magnetically draw any loose hairs Edison might be leaving in his wake.

  “Edison! Out!”

  “Edison, vieni qui!” Pia repeated. More adamantly this time. “You know...” Pia went on slowly, avoiding eye contact with Fran as she spoke, “Zio Luca didn’t say specifically that I was meant to have just one assistance dog. You said yourself you’d brought two to see which one I hit it off with the best, and, well...it’s not like everyone has just one best friend, right?”

  “It is pretty standard. Having just the one.”

  “What about life up here at Mont di Mare is standard?” Pia appealed.

  Fran couldn’t help laughing. She knew exactly where Pia was coming from. It was otherworldly up here.

  She took a few strokes in Pia’s direction, to where Edison was merrily paddling around her. She watched as the teen lay back in the water, her slim legs floating up to the surface. Her fingers pitter-patted on the water’s surface, and all the while she was humming a pop tune as she worked on her argument. She looked like any normal kid having a float in a pool—if you ignored the harness and pole contraption she was still holding on to, the life vests, and the float around her neck for an extra “just in case.”

  “Won’t Edison miss Freda?” Pia asked eventually. “I mean, they both spend most of their time with me now, so it wouldn’t be like keeping both would be that strange.”

  “What? And leave me all alone?” Fran had meant it as a jest, but the reality of returning to the States alone...

  Ugh. Boundaries, Francesca. Boundaries!

  She dunked herself under the surface of the water to mask the rush of emotion. She was meant to be Pia’s sounding board, not the other way around. She whooshed up and out of the pool, pulled a huge bath towel around her and plonked herself down in Pia’s chair, calling Edison out of the pool.

  Staying or going, Luca would kill her if he saw a dog in his fancy pool.

  “Just remember, Fran, you can get up out of that chair anytime you want and just walk away,” Pia sternly reminded her. “I’m stuck in it forever.”

  The words all but ejected Fran straight out of the chair and into the pool.

  She looked from Pia to Edison, his furry legs pedaling at the sky as he rolled on the grass, rubbing the pool water off his back. Then to Freda, who always looked as if she was smiling, happy as ever to stand or walk by Pia’s side.

  The thought of life without Freda and Edison was sobering. But that was how it worked.

  You train them, you hand them over, you move on.

  Normally she was fine with it. But this time it didn’t feel right.

  “Don’t you think you should try asking?” Pia let go of the mop handle and folded her hands in the prayer position before quickly grabbing it again. “It’d be better coming from you.”

  “Me?” A cackle of disbelief followed the wide-eyed yeah-right look Fran threw Pia’s way. “I think pleading for favors from your uncle is more your turf.”

  Pia made a pouty face, then quickly popped on a smile. “Take me to the edge!”

  “What? The far edge?” The one overhanging the sheer drop of the mountain. “Not a chance!”

  “I bet Edison would do it if we were here alone,” Pia grumped.

  “And what makes you think your uncle would be thrilled about you being in the pool on your own.”

  “That’s exactly the point! I wouldn’t be on my own. Edison could tow me around, and if anything went wrong, Freda could run for help.” Pia’s features widened, then threatened to crumple. “For once I could feel like a normal kid. Just once.”

  “Pia, I really don’t think...”

  Once more Pia pressed her hands into the prayer position. “Per favore, Francesca. Help the poor little orphan girl on the mountaintop.”

  “Just the once?” Fran finally conceded.

  She knew she was supposed to be the older, wiser person in this scenario. At twenty-nine years old she was hardly old enough to be her mother, but she felt protective of Pia. She could say, hand on her heart, that she loved her. Even if she was extra cheeky. Demanding. Unbelievably capable of getting her to take risks she knew Luca would frown upon.

  She glanced at the sheer drop at the edge of the infinity pool.

  Luca was going to kill her. Well and truly kill her.

  “C’mon, you wily minx. I’m going to get you out of here. Let go of the pole and grab hold of my neck.”

  “I’m not wily!” Pia feigned a hurt look. “I’m...cunning.”

  “That you are.” She reached out to Pia and unclipped the pole from Freda.

  “You promised!”

  “What exactly did you promise?”

  Pia and Fran froze, then slowly shifted their gazes from each other to the pair of leather shoes attached to a familiar pair of long legs, which were, in turn, supporting a terrific torso—lovely clothed or unclothed—topped off by one very unamused face.

  “Francesca? What did you promise my niece?”

  “I promised to keep her hair dry!” Fran chirped.

  “Si, Zio. That’s exactly what she promised. And to keep me safe and out of harm’s way.” Pia added, tightening her hold on Fran’s neck as she did.

  “That’s us! Two little safety nuts!” Fran grinned while Pia maintained a frantic nodding, as if it would erase everything else from Luca’s mind.

  Two inane, grinning bobbleheads, still neck-deep in the pool. Which was another issue. If she stepped out any farther, he would see her breasts had pinged to full Luca-alert position.

  She narrowed her gaze and dared a quick scan. Damn, that man was head to toe desirable. Even when he was glowering at her.

  * * *

  “And the dog?” Luca couldn’t resist tipping his head toward the Lab merrily paddling around the pool. “Is he part of the safety plan?”

  “Absolutely...not...”

  Fran slipped Pia’s arms more securely around her neck and walked her toward the shallow end of the pool. With each step she took, Luca couldn’t help but think he was watching a beach-rescue video. In slow motion.

  With that barely there bikini on—

  Dio mio.

  “What were your plans to get Pia out of the pool?” Luca heard the bite in his voice and detested himself for it. But he’d been scared. He’d heard screams and had feared the worst.

  Lungs heaving with the effort of reaching the pool to save his niece, he felt the burn as he surveyed the scene now. His niece had been in gales of laughter. All because of Fran. Of course. Francesca wasn’t just a ray of sunshine—she was a cascade of light. Wherever she went.r />
  “We actually practiced it a lot at the beginning of the session,” Fran said, rattling off a technique she’d seen on the internet.

  “Aren’t you meant to be studying?” He zeroed in on Pia, feeling less like a loving uncle and more like an officer in the Gulag.

  “I finished early. Fran helped me with my trigonometry. And it was such a lovely day...”

  “How did you get her in?” Luca asked Fran, not entirely certain he wanted to know.

  Pia peeked out from behind Fran’s head once again. “I swan-dived.”

  “You what?” His voice dropped in disbelief. “The only way you could have done that is if—”

  “I tipped her in,” Fran interjected, her expression every bit as stoic as an elite soldier caught going a step too far by the drill sergeant.

  “Pia said she knew how to swim—that it was her favorite part of rehab when you were still in Rome—so I tipped her in. And because she’s such an amazingly graceful girl she turned it into a swan dive!”

  “She could’ve been—”

  “What? Paralyzed?” Pia cut in. “Uncle Luca, it’s okay. There is no way Edison, Freda or Fran would’ve let me drown. Besides, it felt amazing. Like I was whole again.”

  He looked to Fran, saw her teeth biting down on her lip so hard the flesh paled around it. Then he saw the defiance in her eyes.

  C’mon. Do it. I dare you to take away this moment from your niece.

  Didn’t she realize his niece was the only person he had left in the world, and that to chuck her into a swimming pool without the necessary precautions was sheer madness?

  “Don’t move. I’ll go and get one of the portable hoists. I hope I can trust you to respect my wishes for just a few moments?”

  His back stiffened as a peal of nervous giggles followed him when he about-faced and began stomping off. Then it struck him. Fran had done it again. Found exactly the sort of moments he’d been hoping for Pia would have here at Mont di Mare. Happy ones. Discovery. Trying new things. Making the village a home as well as his place of work.

  His pace slowed. What sort of life was he giving his niece here? Did he even know what Pia wanted to do when she grew up? When was the last time they’d sat down and eaten a normal dinner together? As a family?

  An image of the three of them sitting down—Fran, Pia and Luca—enjoying a meal together put a lift in his step. And then just as quickly weighed it down. They weren’t a family. It was just him and Pia, and he was barely succeeding at that. And as for the clinic—the bank was still nipping at his heels, getting ever closer.

  When he returned a few minutes later with the hoist he saw Pia on the top step at the side of the pool, tugging herself into her wheelchair with a small grunt and a smiley, “Voilà!” She looked him in the eye as he approached. “See? I didn’t need you after all.”

  He forced a smile, knowing full well it didn’t reach his eyes. Not because he wasn’t happy for her, but because he was furious with himself for being so blind.

  Letting her fend for herself was the only way to build Pia’s confidence. It was the entire raison d’être of the clinic. How had he lost sight of the endgame so quickly?

  When his eyes met and meshed with Fran’s a rush of emotion hit him so hard he could barely breathe. Half of him resented her for being there for his niece. The other half was grateful. If only he’d had a chance to grieve for all that he had lost—not just in the accident, but in the years that followed. His spontaneity. His voracious appetite for experimental treatments. His passion for life. His capacity to love.

  Perhaps then he would be whole again.

  “Would you like to take Pia back to the house?” Fran finally asked. “I’m happy to bring the hoist back to the clinic.”

  It was an olive branch. She was trying to bring him closer to Pia, not divide them. He was grateful for the gesture.

  “Grazie, Fran. See you tomorrow at the clinic?”

  She knew what he was saying. They wouldn’t meet tonight. He simply couldn’t. Not with the demons he was battling.

  “Of course,” she replied, her eyes darting away in an attempt to hide the hurt he’d seen in an instant. “Tomorrow at the clinic.”

  He just caught Pia rolling her eyes at him, then putting her hands out. Do something! Fix it! her expression screamed.

  But all he was capable of was letting Francesca walk away.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “HERE’S THE BREAK POINT.”

  Luca followed Dr. Murro’s finger as he pointed out the T11 vertebra on the X-ray.

  “Hard to miss, isn’t it?” he replied grimly. “Severed right in two. No chance of recovering function below the waist.” Luca shook his head. Off-road vehicles could be dangerous things. “She’s lucky the vertebra didn’t rupture her aorta.”

  “Has Francesca done any work with her?”

  “I don’t think so.” Luca shook his head. “She usually submits a report as soon as she’s worked with a patient, and I haven’t seen one for Maria yet.”

  “She’ll be staying on?”

  “Who? Maria? Of course. She’s only just arrived.”

  “Francesca,” Dr. Murro corrected.

  Ah. That was a more complicated answer.

  “The whole staff seem to have really taken to her,” Dr. Murro continued.

  So have I. Too much.

  “She has commitments back in the States, making it impossible.”

  “Shame. Someone like that—a triple threat—is going to be difficult to replace.”

  “Triple threat?” He’d not heard that turn of phrase before.

  “Physio, hydro and canine therapist in one. She’s a league above most. A real asset to Mont di Mare.”

  “That she is,” Luca conceded. “That she is...”

  A sharp knock sounded on the exam room door. “Dr. Montovano? It’s Cara Bianchi. Francesca has found her out by the meadows, indicating with possible autonomic dysreflexia.”

  Luca shot from his chair. “Where is she? Have you brought her in?”

  “Si. One of the doctors is seeing her now, in the Fiore Suite, but it’s probably best if you take a look.”

  “On my way.” He stopped at the doorway, “Dr. Murro, are you all right to meet with Maria? Talk through her treatment program?”

  “Absolutely, Doctor. And if you could send Francesca to meet me when you’re done, that’d be great. Well-done for hiring her, by the way. She’s a real catch.”

  Luca nodded, striding out of the office before the scowl hit his lips.

  Francesca was more than an asset. She was a woman. One who once you caught hold of, you’d be a fool ever to let go. But he would have to do just that if he was ever going to stand on his own two feet. Provide for his niece. Be the man his family had always believed him to be.

  * * *

  Doctors and nurses were already surrounding Cara on an exam table, where Francesca and a nurse were holding the girl in an upright position.

  “She’s bradycardic. Blood pressure is one-four-five over ninety-seven,” the nurse said as soon as she saw Luca enter.

  “Any nasal stuffiness? Nausea?” Luca asked.

  “No, but she’s complained to Francesca about a headache.”

  He glanced to Fran, who gave a quick affirmative nod.

  “When I saw the goose bumps on Cara’s knees and felt how clammy her skin was I brought her in here.”

  “My head is killing me! And my eyes feel all prickly!” Cara wailed from the exam table. “All I wanted to do was lie in the meadow!”

  “It’s all right... We’ll ease the pain. Can we get an ice compress for Cara’s face, please?” Luca smiled when he saw that one was being slipped in place before he’d finished speaking. “Autonomic dysreflexia.” He gave Fran a gr
ateful nod. “You were right. Can we strap her in and tilt the exam table up?”

  “Has anyone checked her urinary bag?”

  “Just emptied it. She had a full bladder.”

  “Bowels need emptying? Any cuts, bruises? Other injuries?”

  “Nothing that I could see,” said Fran. “But Cara hadn’t voided her bladder in a while and was lying down, which I’m guessing exacerbated the symptoms.”

  She looked to Luca for confirmation. A hit of color pinked up her cheeks when their eyes met.

  “Exactly right,” Luca confirmed grimly.

  It sounded like a simple enough problem, but for a paraplegic it was potentially lethal. Francesca had done well. His eyes met hers and he hoped she could read the gratitude in them.

  “That’s all it was?” Cara’s voice turned plaintive as she scanned the faces in the room. “I just had to pee but it felt like I was going to die?”

  “That’s the long and short of it, Cara. If you like...” Luca flashed the group a smile, trying to bring some levity to the room, and dropped Cara a quick wink. What he had to say next was a hard bit of information to swallow. Something she’d have to live with for the rest of her life. “Tell the others it was autonomic dysreflexia. Sounds much cooler.” The smile dropped from his lips. “But you should also tell them how quickly it can turn critical. All those symptoms are warning signs of a much more serious response.”

  “Like what?” Her eyebrows shot up.

  “Internal bleeding, stroke and even death.” He let the words settle before he continued. These kids already had so much to deal with. Worrying about dying simply because their brain couldn’t get the message that they needed to pee seemed cruel. Cara had been snowboarding less than a year ago, and now the rest of her life would involve wheelchairs, assistance and terrifying moments like these that, if she were left unattended, might lead to her death.

  “You use intermittent catheterization, right?” Luca asked.

  Cara nodded, a film of tears fogging her eyes.

  Luca turned to the staff. No need for an audience. “I think we’re good here. Cara and I might just have a bit of a chat and then...”