Chapter 3 #2
Critical. The cold hand squeezed.
Peyton searched Valentino’s eyes, grappling with the vagaries of life, trying to process the information.
How could fate could be so cruel to a little boy and a man who had only ever done good things.
‘That’s just so… terrible. I can’t believe it.
’ She shook her head to clear it, searching his dark eyes, hoping that he’d tell her in his next breath that it was all some cruel, sick joke. ‘I just can’t… take it in.’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
It wasn’t a retraction or some kind of empty platitude, just an acknowledgement of the situation which, she supposed, was about all he could say in such circumstances.
She became aware then of the slow, lazy circling of his fingers against her upper arms where his hands still lightly grasped.
It was strangely comforting in the aftermath of such devastating news and she swayed a little.
But when the temptation to lay her cheek against the V of his scrub top rose unbidden, she knew she had to step back.
Peyton was conscious of him watching her as she walked to the nearby trolley loaded with anaesthetic supplies and pressed her palm to the cold metallic surface.
‘I’ll be covering Harry’s patients until he’s ready to return.’
The news hit like a bolt from the blue, as did a dozen questions all at once. He was taking over? She’d be working for him? How was that even possible? But they were suddenly all swept aside when the full impact of this change in circumstances hit home.
McKenzie.
She glanced at him sharply as her heart thudded to a sick kind of beat.
No, no, no. Why? What had she done, what had McKenzie done, to deserve such upheaval?
The surgery had been delayed too many times already.
So many things had gone wrong in her short life but the one constant had been Harry and his absolute faith that he could give McKenzie the gift of hearing that she’d been robbed of by her prematurity.
And now that was in jeopardy too.
‘My daughter’s surgery is on Monday.’
‘Yes, I know.’ He nodded. ‘Harry told me. He also told me this process has been quite convoluted for you. A lot of delays and cancellations due to her fluctuating health concerns. And I understand that switching surgeons at short notice can be very stressful, but it’s okay.
Really.’ He smiled as if to emphasise the assurance.
‘It can all still go ahead as scheduled. I can do McKenzie’s surgery. ’
Dread dripped like drops of bile into her system and Peyton wanted to scream. She wanted to rant and cry. For herself. For Harry. And then she felt terrible because how could she even be thinking of herself, of her own selfish needs, when Benny was critical?
‘I can do it, Peyton.’
‘No.’
She shook her head as their gazes met, his obvious surprise at her decisive rebuttal right there for her to see until the shutters slammed down in his eyes. ‘You don’t think I’m a good surgeon?’
Peyton had the urge to laugh hysterically. Where did she even begin? ‘How do I know, Valentino? I don’t know the first thing about you.’
One black eyebrow winged towards his hair line. ‘I have one night that says differently.’
A quick well-spring of rage bubbled up inside as Peyton slashed her hand through the air. How dare he bring that up now. She glanced behind her at the door in case anyone was around to overhear.
‘Don’t ever,’ she snapped, ‘ever talk about that night again.’
Sighing heavily, Valentino held up his hand in a placatory manner.
‘I am a world-class cochlear surgeon,’ he said, obviously choosing to address the most important matter, not her reaction – possible overreaction – to his innuendo.
‘I’m head of the department in a large London hospital.
I chair an international cochlear implant committee.
I have performed this operation countless times on both children and adults.
’ Shoving his hands on his hips, he stared her down. ‘I am a damn good surgeon.’
Peyton shook her head, his arrogant stance and impressive credentials not meaning a whole hell of a lot right now. He didn’t get it. He just didn’t get it. This was her child. This was McKenzie.
‘And she is my daughter, Valentino.’ Peyton said it slowly, unblinkingly, so he knew she was serious. ‘Do you really think I would allow a total stranger to cut into her? Drill a hole in her head?’
Did he think that was an easy thing for a mother to consent to? Never mind allowing someone she didn’t know to do it? If he didn’t get that then she didn’t know what else to say.
‘I’ll wait,’ she announced, blinking away the sudden welling of moisture in her eyes, wishing she could blink away the crack in her heart at the thought of yet another delay for her beautiful girl. ‘I’ll cancel and wait for Harry to return.’
Lips suddenly grim, he gave a stiff bow. ‘Of course, that is your prerogative.’
Peyton nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘You should be aware though,’ he murmured, ‘that it could be a long time. Harry was talking about months, maybe a year if Ben needs extensive rehab.’
A year…
Peyton’s heart sank. The thought of McKenzie waiting that much longer was like an ice pick to her heart. She wanted to weep and wail and beat her chest. She shrugged instead, struggling for nonchalance, the effort nearly killing her.
They’d waited this long, hadn’t they?
For long moments neither of them said anything, but Peyton stood tall beneath the scrutiny of his gaze roving over her face as if searching for a way he could convince her to change her mind.
‘What about this?’ he said eventually. ‘Don’t make a decision yet. Watch me in action this morning then tell me you don’t want me to operate on your daughter.’
‘It’s not just about that,’ she snapped. Did he really think it could be that simple? How were they supposed to have any kind of doctor/mother-of-patient relationship with their one-night stand between them?
God, why had she been so impulsive two months ago? Why? She was never impulsive!
Clearly picking up what she was putting down, he was quick to reassure. ‘I will treat McKenzie like any other child who is a patient of mine.’
‘And me?’ Peyton would have given anything not to say the quiet part out loud, but it was the elephant in the room.
‘Like any of the other mothers.’
‘Oh?’ It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. ‘How many of them have you slept with?’
He gave a grudging smile. ‘I thought we weren’t talking about that?’
Peyton sighed, too bloody heartsick at the moment to respond properly. ‘We’re not.’
How was it possible for him to be the epitome of cool, calm and collected, while she felt all at sea? There was still so much she couldn’t wrap her head around. ‘I don’t understand how you’re even here, now… in the country.’
‘Harry interviewed me months ago. He’s thinking of retiring—’
‘Retiring?’ Peyton spluttered. What? ‘He never mentioned retiring to me!’
‘He’s sixty-eight years old.’
Valentino’s voice was calm but Peyton could hear the implied duh. ‘Yes, but…’ Harry and her talked shop – a lot. Why wouldn’t he saying anything?
And he still had so much to give.
‘I’ve wanted to work in Australia for a while now,’ he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted him.
‘Alessandro sings its praises constantly and I think there are things I can learn here. I’ve had a visa for a while now, I’ve just been waiting for the right job and I was attending a symposium in Melbourne—’
‘“Bionic Ear in the Twenty-First Century”?’ Peyton enquired absently, not really caring. Harry had given a paper at it two days before.
He nodded. ‘Harry contacted me in the early hours of the morning and asked me to fill in. I got the 5 a.m. flight out of Melbourne.’
‘I see.’ This wasn’t how it was supposed to pan out. None of it was. But then, when had her life gone according to plan over the last three years? Bitterness rose like bile in Peyton’s throat.
When would it be her turn to catch a break?
Pushing off the bench opposite, Valentino took three paces until he was standing in front of her and Peyton had no choice but to look at him. ‘Watch me today, Peyton,’ he urged, his voice low but confident. ‘Then we’ll talk.’
His husky tones washed over her, soothing the knot of worry that sat like an iron fist deep in her gut, and she found herself nodding. Mostly because it would bring an end to this damn conversation.
Satisfied, he gave her another of his small smiles. ‘See you shortly?’
‘Sure.’
He left then and Peyton sucked in a deep, steadying breath. So much for her positive start. How could her day have gone to hell so early?
Peyton was so relieved when their last case was done she almost kissed the ground.
Standing close to Valentino for hours had been excruciating.
Every breath he’d taken – every move, every chuckle or low request for something – had stroked invisible fingers low on her belly and taken her right back to that night.
Being under him. Over him. How good it had felt to have him inside her.
Thankfully Valentino had already left for the wards to do post-op checks as she stripped out of her surgical gown and she was able to breathe again. To function without a pulse that kept racing and a stomach that was looping the loop.
But what had been even more disconcerting than the heated memories was their amazing synchronicity. For a surgeon and a scrub nurse who had never worked together, they had been a well-oiled machine.
As if they’d been doing it for years.
Like her and Harry. But more. She’d anticipated Harry’s every move in the OR for the last two years, but what had happened today wasn’t that. It wasn’t practice or familiarity; it had been more like… clairvoyance. As if she’d been in Valentino’s head. As if she could read his thoughts.
Whilst the general sequence of a surgery was usually the same – notwithstanding individual patient factors – each surgeon had their own preferences and foibles.
About how they wanted things done. How they liked to drape, where they liked to stand, how they preferred their instruments handed to them.
Etc, etc, etc.
Which was something a scrub nurse would learn over time. But not Peyton and Valentino. They’d been completely in sync, which was a rare thing to have straight up.
So rare, Peyton didn’t even know what to think. Didn’t want to know.
What she did know, however, was Valentino was an exceptional surgeon.
It had taken her about ten minutes into the first surgery for that realisation.
Efficient, steady, sure and capable. Methodical in his approach, supremely knowledgeable.
She had no doubt that McKenzie was in very good, very safe hands.
There were also the intangibles about the man while he worked.
The things that the patients or their families didn’t get to see.
His unfailingly politeness to everyone no matter their job in the OR and his utter – despite the mask and being covered head to toe in green – charisma that oozed from every pore.
He’d made the morning fun. For everyone.
From the nurses – female and male – to the anaesthetist to the very new, very nervous surgical resident who was standing opposite and assisting to the orderly adjusting the theatre light.
He had them all eating out of his hand, talking about anything from grandkids with Dr Hamilton to the wild beauty of his childhood home in Italy, from football to Australian beer.
They had all loved him.
Everyone loved Harry too, but he was quieter and more studious whereas Valentino had entertained.
All in all, it had been a lot.
A lot to unpack. She’d gone from thinking she’d never see the man again to making peace with the idea that he was going to be McKenzie’s surgeon. Because she had no doubts about that now even if she did have doubts about this new relationship they were about to enter.
Doctor to patient’s mother. That required the deepest kind of trust. But it was even more complicated now because he was going to be her boss.
She’d slept with her boss. No, wait… that was far too insipid. She’d had the most amazing sex of her life.
With her boss.
So yeah… it was a lot. Too much really. And the day wasn’t even over yet. She still hadn’t asked him about being in the theatre when McKenzie had her operation. The one objective she’d been determined to achieve at the start of the day – convinced she’d be able to talk Harry around.
But somehow, not even with their recent history in mind, or perhaps because of it, she doubted Valentino Lombardi would be as amenable.
Didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try though…