A Proposal to Remember

by Sarah Morgan

  Suddenly desperate for a cup of coffee, Zan did as Kim had suggested and had just poured herself a strong cup of coffee when Carlo strolled into the room.

  He looked sexy and dangerous and the look in his eyes made her heart-rate take off. Last night it had been as if they were in a separate world where reality would never intrude. Seeing him now in the staff-room, looking overwhelmingly male and very, very real, she felt suddenly shy.

  ‘This wasn’t exactly how I planned to spend the morning,’ he said huskily, stepping closer to her and curving a warm hand around the back of her neck.

  She glanced nervously at the door. ‘We can’t—not here.’

  He chuckled. ‘I was only planning to kiss you. If Kim can get away with wearing antlers to work, then I can certainly kiss you under the mistletoe.’

  With that he lowered his head and took her mouth, exploring her fully, his free hand pulling her against his hard body.

  When he finally lifted his head she was flushed and breathless and desperate for more.

  More of what they’d shared last night.

  ‘Carlo—’

  He put a finger on her lips, a wry smile touching his mouth. ‘I know—I feel the same way. Let’s hope these twins are delivered soon so that we can both go home.’

  She looked into his dark eyes, wondering what he was thinking.

  He’d said that he loved her but did he really mean it?

  And what did the future hold?

  Did they have any sort of future?

  * * *

  Just after lunch Helen’s husband John arrived, clutching a huge box of food, including a pile of turkey sandwiches.

  ‘I managed to cook the lunch,’ John Hughes said proudly, and Helen grinned.

  ‘Has anyone been sick yet?’

  ‘Charming.’ He smiled at Zan. ‘Have you eaten? I brought you a box of goodies for the staffroom.’

  Zan thanked him and left them alone for a few minutes while she took the food to the staff room.

  When she arrived back Helen was having another contraction and her husband was looking anxious.

  ‘She says she wants to push.’

  ‘Really?’ Zan washed her hands and pulled on a pair of sterile gloves. She examined Helen carefully and then gave a smile. ‘You’re fully dilated, Helen, and the first head is already descending nicely. Let’s try and get you a bit more upright and then I need to call in the cavalry.’

  Helen gave a grunt. ‘Why do we need cavalry?’

  ‘I need to call Mr Bennett and the anaesthetist and we need to have two paediatricians—one for each twin,’ Zan told her as she hit the buzzer.

  Kim’s antlers appeared round the door. ‘Do we have lift-off?’

  Zan nodded. ‘Can you call the team, please?’

  Kim vanished and Zan grabbed a bean bag. ‘Let’s try putting this behind you for a moment. It might help if you have something to push against.’

  Minutes later Carlo strolled into the room dressed in theatre scrubs. His shoulders looked impossibly broad and Zan struggled to keep her attention on Helen.

  He examined her quickly, checked the foetal heart trace and glanced up as one of the paediatricians entered the room.

  ‘Just one of you?’ He was frowning slightly but the doctor shook her head.

  ‘My colleague is on her way.’

  The second paediatrician arrived with the anaesthetist and from then on there was an air of anticipation and excitement as they waited for Carlo to deliver the first twin.

  With the minimum of fuss and bother he delivered the head and then the shoulders and finally the first twin slipped into his hands.

  ‘A little boy, Helen,’ Carlo said quietly, letting the paediatrician check the baby carefully before putting him to the breast. ‘I want him to feed if he can, because it will stimulate your contractions. In the meantime, I’m going to scan you to assess the lie of the second twin.’

  Zan noted the time of delivery and carefully labelled the baby ‘Twin One’ so that there was no confusion.

  ‘The second twin is lying head down, Helen,’ Carlo told her finally, pressing on the top of Helen’s uterus. ‘I’m just moving him down a bit.’

  Helen stroked the first baby’s downy head and looked up at her husband in wonder. ‘He’s so tiny.’

  Zan was concentrating on the second twin with Carlo. She glanced at the machine and placed a hand on Helen’s uterus.

  ‘She’s stopped contracting.’

  Carlo nodded. ‘We’ll put up an oxytocin infusion and wait for the head to descend.’

  They did that and Zan kept monitoring the contractions. ‘That’s better—will you rupture the membrane?’

  Carlo shook his head. ‘Not yet. The baby isn’t distressed, so I’d rather leave nature to take its course if we can.’

  Zan looked at him with a new respect. She’d come across so many obstetricians who couldn’t wait to intervene and hurry everything along, but Carlo was completely relaxed and confident, happy to let the mother’s body do the work if it was possible.

  Helen looked at him anxiously. ‘Is it taking too long?’

  ‘Everything’s fine.’ Carlo put a hand on her abdomen to feel the contraction and checked the monitor. ‘We’re waiting for the baby’s head to come down and for the waters to break. If necessary I can speed things up, but for the moment you’re doing well.’

  Even as he spoke the waters broke, and when Carlo examined her again he was satisfied that the second twin’s head was engaged.

  ‘You’re doing really well,’ he said, encouraging Helen, who was now looking exhausted. ‘Push with the next contraction.’

  He shot a meaningful glance at the second paediatrician who gave a brief nod of understanding.

  The second twin was born in a slippery rush and lay still in Carlo’s hands. Immediately the paediatrician took the baby and cleared the airways. The baby coughed and spluttered and gave a thin wail of protest.

  Zan breathed a sigh of relief and gave Helen a hug. ‘Congratulations,’ she said hoarsely. ‘A little girl. One of each.’

  ‘Is she all right?’ Helen was straining to see the second twin, but the paediatrician was taking no chances and was giving the baby a full examination.

  ‘She’s fine,’ Zan assured her. ‘We’re just giving her a whiff of oxygen and then you can give her a cuddle.’

  Carlo delivered the second placenta, checked that it was intact and glanced at Helen. ‘No tears, no stitches needed. You did brilliantly.’

  Zan hid a smile. One of the main reasons that Helen hadn’t encountered a problem was because Carlo was so skilled. He was undoubtedly the best doctor she’d ever worked with.

  He exchanged a brief smile with Zan and then had a conversation with the paediatricians while Zan made Helen more comfortable.

  The first twin was feeding happily now, firmly attached to Helen’s breast, his eyes wide as he sucked.

  ‘He’s so gorgeous.’ Zan touched his cheek gently.

  Suddenly she had a mental picture of Carlo’s babies—dark-haired and dark-eyed with seductive smiles, just like their father.

  She shook herself quickly.

  What was the matter with her?

  She’d known him for less than a week, for goodness’ sake, and here she was imagining having his babies.

  She’d been spending too much time with Kim.

  After they’d transferred Helen to the ward Zan grabbed her coat and went in search of Carlo.

  She found him by the ward desk, finishing off some notes.

  ‘I’m off home.’

  ‘Wait for me!’ His rough command surprised her, but she settled herself in a chair next to him and waited for him to finish writing.

  Finally he closed the notes and sat back with a sigh. ‘Done. Let’s go. If they need me again they can call.’

  They walked the short distance to her flat, and Zan was still busy chatting about the twins and the excitement of the day when the lift doors opened and she cau
ght sight of the door of her flat.

  It was splintered and torn off its hinges.

  ‘Oh, my God.’ Her face lost its colour and she made a movement towards her flat, but Carlo grabbed her and pulled her backwards.

  ‘No!’

  He thrust her behind him and reached into his pocket for his mobile phone. He keyed in a number, said a few words of Italian, his eyes never leaving the open door, and then flipped the phone shut and put it back into his pocket.

  ‘Stay behind me.’

  His harsh order made her flinch and she looked at him, startled, seeing a side of him that she hadn’t encountered before.

  His eyes were cold and dangerous and she swallowed hard.

  ‘I— It’s probably just kids.’

  But the uneasy feeling inside her was growing.

  She’d never seen Carlo this tense before. Even while delivering Kelly’s baby he’d been relaxed and amazingly cool.

  Something was very wrong.

  He walked softly to the door and looked inside, his jaw tightening as he saw the mess in her flat.

  ‘Oh, no!’ She peeped around his shoulder and gave a groan as she saw the Christmas tree lying on its side, the presents scattered around the living room. ‘My tree! My things…’

  Her favourite blue sofa had been torn apart and glasses had been smashed on the wooden floor.

  ‘Who would want to do this?’ Distressed by the mess, she pushed past him and dropped to her knees, tears filling her eyes as she picked up some of the presents. ‘Who would want to rob someone on Christmas Day?’

  It seemed so unfair that she stifled a sob, aware that Carlo was prowling around her flat, checking every room, his face dark and dangerous.

  She stared at him, puzzled by his behaviour. ‘What are you doing? They’re not likely to still be here. It was just children.’

  Zan brushed the tears away from her face and scrambled to her feet, frowning slightly as her eyes rested on the television and the stereo.

  ‘That’s odd.’

  ‘What’s odd?’ Carlo’s tone was clipped as he moved towards the doorway of her flat, obviously waiting for someone.

  ‘They don’t seem to have taken anything.’ Zan glanced around the room and then bent down and picked up the earrings that Carlo had given her for Christmas. ‘Why would anyone break in and not take anything?’

  Carlo’s sucked in a breath. ‘Zan—’

  Before he could finish what he was going to say the lift doors opened and a man stepped out.

  Zan’s eyes widened. It was the same man who’d been following her and who Carlo had spoken to in the restaurant.

  She looked at him in confusion and then back at Carlo, who was speaking in rapid Italian.

  Then she heard footsteps on the stairs and armed police swarmed into her flat.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ She backed away, intimidated by the sight of guns and bulletproof vests. She stared at Carlo in shock and then looked at one of the policeman.

  ‘They’ve broken in and trashed the place but they don’t seem to have taken anything.’ Her voice tailed off as she watched them comb the flat, suddenly aware that they weren’t interested in her. It was like something out of the movies and a chill spread over her body.

  Why were they turning up with guns?

  She didn’t fool herself that the police took breaking and entering that seriously.

  Something else was going on.

  One of the policemen was talking to Carlo, his manner respectful. ‘We’ve had them under surveillance since they entered the country but they gave us all the slip last night. They were obviously hiding out somewhere, waiting for you to go to the hospital.’

  Zan stared. Who? Who had been hiding out?

  Carlo’s mouth was grim. ‘How did they find me?’

  The policeman gave a wry smile. ‘It’s hard for anyone as well known as you to hide anywhere for long. Someone somewhere would have spotted you and passed on the information. We’ve had calls from the press, too, so I think it’s safe to assume that your secret is well and truly out.’

  Well known? Secret?

  Why were the police treating Carlo as if he were royalty?

  Zan had had enough. She stalked up to Carlo, her face pale. ‘Would someone mind telling me what’s happening?’

  The policeman was still looking at Carlo. ‘This was probably a warning. They want you to know that they’ve discovered your identity and that they’re on to you.’

  ‘I realise that.’ Carlo let out a long breath as he turned to Zan. ‘I need to get you away from here. I never should have dragged you into this.’

  ‘Dragged me into what?’ Zan looked round at the armed police and shivered with cold. Then she looked back at Carlo, but suddenly he seemed like a stranger. Gone was the warmth and good humour that she’d come to expect from him. In its place was a tough, ruthless detachment which she found intimidating. ‘What’s all this about discovering your identity? Just who the hell are you?’

  Her voice rose and Carlo stiffened. ‘Zan, listen—let me sort this out and then we’ll talk.’

  ‘No way.’ She shook her head and planted herself firmly in front of him, ignoring the police and the other man who clearly knew Carlo well. ‘We talk now.’

  ‘All right.’ He ran a hand over his dark hair and let out a long breath. ‘My surname isn’t Bennett.’

  There was a long silence while Zan digested that piece of information. Not Bennett. She remembered that first day when Kim had spoken to him and he hadn’t reacted to his name. No wonder. He hadn’t recognised it.

  He’d been lying to her. Suddenly she found it difficult to breathe. He’d been lying to her from the first evening they’d met.

  How could she have been so gullible?

  It had all been too good to be true.

  Her eyes were hurt and accusing. ‘So, what is your name?’

  ‘It’s Santini,’ he said quietly, and she stared at him in silence, wondering why the name was familiar.

  Santini.

  Suddenly her eyes widened. ‘As in SMS? Santini Medical Supplies?’

  SMS was a huge multinational corporation. Massive. Everyone had heard of it.

  Somehow she found her voice. ‘That’s you?’

  A muscle worked in his dark jaw. ‘It’s my father,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t get involved. I really do run a women’s clinic in Milan. I left Italy to get away from some men who were threatening me. The authorities arranged for me to work under a different surname.’

  She licked dry lips. ‘You lied to me?’

  ‘I tried to tell you last night.’

  ‘But you didn’t try that hard, did you?’ She closed her eyes briefly, remembering just what had happened the night before. Just what she’d let him do. Just how much she’d trusted him.

  Oh, God, how could she have been so stupid?

  She’d made love to a stranger.

  A stranger who had been deceiving her all the time.

  ‘I trusted you…’ Her voice was little more than a whisper as her mind ran over all the intimacies she’d allowed him. ‘I trusted you.’

  Oblivious to the curious stares of the policemen, she backed away, looking at him with such pain in her eyes that he sucked in a breath.

  ‘And you can still trust me.’ His tone was urgent. ‘We’ll sort this out, Zan, I promise.’ He reached out and grabbed her hands. ‘But for the time being we just need to get you somewhere safe.’

  She jerked her hands away and looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. ‘I was safe before I met you.’

  He flinched visibly and she knew that he’d understood the depth of meaning behind her words.

  It wasn’t just the criminals who had rocked her life; it was him. By deceiving her.

  ‘Why are they after you?’

  Carlo was tense, rattled out of his usual cool. ‘One of my patients had a stillborn baby. There was absolutely no way my staff could have prevented it. It was one of those sad cas
es that just happen. But the father blamed me.’

  ‘And he’s trying to kill you?’ She stared at him, aghast. ‘Don’t Italian people ever communicate? Don’t they have things like counselling in Italy?’

  ‘He was past counselling,’ Carlo said wearily. ‘When a child dies the parents often look for someone to blame; you know that. It’s normal.’

  ‘And you just accept that?’

  ‘No, of course not. But I can’t help him if I can’t find him. So far I’ve received nothing but threats. We were hoping that by leaving Italy we might be able to lure him out into the open.’

  She gave an incredulous laugh. ‘So you’re saying you wanted him to follow you?’

  Carlo dragged long fingers through his dark hair and nodded. ‘Yes. He was threatening my family. We thought that if I left Italy it might be safer for everyone.’

  ‘Except you.’

  ‘I can take care of myself.’

  ‘And what about me?’ Her eyes were bright. ‘It’s my flat they’ve trashed Carlo. Mine.’

  ‘I can put that right.’ His jaw tightened. ‘And as for you personally you’ve been watched every minute of the day since we met. I would never put you in danger—’

  One of the policemen cleared his throat. ‘We need to fingerprint this place.’

  Carlo nodded and moved out into the corridor, taking Zan by the arm. ‘Listen, I’m going to take you somewhere safe until this is over.’

  She shook his arm off and turned to look at the man who’d been following her. ‘And who’s he? One of your henchmen?’

  Carlo frowned at her description. ‘He’s my father’s chief of security and he’s the best there is. He’s had you in his sight from the day after you met me.’

  ‘Well, if that’s supposed to make me feel better then I’m afraid it doesn’t.’ Zan stared at him, her mind working overtime. ‘Was he the reason you knew I went to Kelly’s?’

  Carlo hesitated and then nodded, and she turned to Matt, tears glistening in her eyes.

  ‘So if you’re so good, why didn’t you stop them trashing my flat?’

  ‘I wasn’t watching your flat. I was watching you,’ Matt said quietly, his eyes sympathetic. ‘Look, I can understand why you’re upset, but Carlo wasn’t in a position to tell you. Try and understand. He’d only just met you—he didn’t know you well enough to trust you.’