Chapter 4
An hour later, Valentino strode from the lift on his way to his rooms – Harry’s rooms – in the audiology department of the hospital.
Dressed in dark trousers and a business shirt that was open at the neck and turned up at the cuffs, he’d seen all his post-op patients from his morning list and had met with the St Auburn’s medical director about his temporary position.
There’d been forms. A lot of forms. But he’d never once considered saying no to Harry’s request. How could he in the face of the terrible predicament that had befallen the Abbott family?
Plus, it was exactly the opening he’d been looking for.
Sure, it was unexpected and things had moved quickly, but Valentino had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
In fact, he relished being thrown in the deep end and not only proving he could survive but thrive as he conquered a new challenge.
He’d assured Harry during their phone conversation that the department would be in safe hands, and he’d meant it. The last thing the old man needed to worry about was work when he was going to need all his energy, emotion and focus for his grandson.
Valentino had this.
Although he’d admit to being thrown when Harry had asked him to break the news of the accident to Peyton.
He’d remembered that her and Harry worked together but he hadn’t realised she was his right-hand woman in the audiology department.
Indispensable, apparently. Running his clinics, scrubbing in for him during ops and keeping Harry’s schedule, along with everything else, running smoothly.
Peyton.
The woman who’d done a midnight runner on him two months ago. The only woman who’d ever snuck out in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye note or a scribbled phone number.
Like Cinder-freaking-ella.
Ask Peyton. That’s what Harry had answered on numerous occasions throughout their phone call as Valentino had asked the immediate questions he’d needed to know in order to step into Harry’s shoes.
He’d also requested that Valentino break it to her gently.
Those had been his exact words. Something he hadn’t understood until it had become clear from her visceral reaction to the news that she wasn’t just the person Harry relied on most at work but that the two of them obviously had a very close personal relationship.
It had been unexpectedly hard watching her grapple with her emotions. Her shock and sadness over the terrible news clashing with her disappointment and anxiety over the deeper implications relating to her daughter.
In that moment, it had been difficult to remember Peyton was the woman who, the morning after their hotel romp, Valentino had decided to firmly relegate to his past. A pleasant – very pleasant – interlude for sure but one he’d been determined to forget.
Life, though – in that way of it all – had decided differently.
And Valentino, fool that he was, had stupidly thought he was prepared for seeing her again this morning.
He had, after all, unlike her, been forewarned.
But nothing could have been further from the truth.
He’d been totally sucker-punched as her big grey eyes, round with shock, had met his and he’d been tossed straight back to the night of Alessandro’s wedding.
Even in a pair of baggy scrubs, her fresh face devoid of make-up, her hair covered in a sexless blue theatre hat, his body had responded as hotly, as urgently, as it had to that backless dress.
But worse than that had been the realisation that he actually hadn’t forgotten one single second of their time together.
It was there, a living, breathing torment in his head, playing on loop.
Even more calamitous, with her standing in front of him in that anaesthetic room, his loins stirring at the memory of them, had been the certainty that Peyton wasn’t a one and done.
That he wanted more.
Which wasn’t exactly conducive to a good collegial rapport. Nor the kind of professional relationship he always maintained with parents of his paediatric patients.
Dio! Why did it have to be Peyton?
He was still asking himself that question as he pulled up short in the doorway to the department.
Peyton was sitting at the reception desk, studiously writing in what appeared to be charts.
She wore a plain, light green T-shirt now with a V-neck and an audiology logo stamped to the left of the V where a pocket might normally sit.
It was stupid but just seeing her made him smile. Remembering their uncanny telepathy during the morning theatre list made him smile even bigger. Whether they liked it or not – and he did like it – the universe had bigger plans for them, intertwining their pathways for the foreseeable future.
And the thought of that made him really smile.
Sure, for two people who’d only ever officially met twice, their relationship was already ridiculously complicated. But their chemistry – both in the operating theatre and between the sheets – didn’t give a damn about complicated.
‘Hard at work, I see,’ he said from the doorway, stifling a smile as her pen stilled briefly mid-sentence before re-commencing.
‘Charts wait for no man.’
‘Harry said you were efficient.’
‘I’m off for six weeks after today.’ She looked up from her work, her eyes fixing him with grey steel. ‘I want to make sure everything’s up to date.’
Valentino remembered Harry mentioning Peyton’s leave of absence to look after her daughter post-op.
He knew he should be relieved that there would be some separation for them.
That the blurring of lines between work and personal would be delayed but, after how amazing they’d been together in the OR today, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
‘You have hat hair,’ she commented, before casting her eyes downwards again.
Valentino blinked at her bold statement before chuckling, his hand ruffling through hair he hadn’t bothered to do anything with after he’d removed his theatre cap. If that was Peyton’s way of discouraging him, she clearly did not know him well enough yet.
Lesser men might have baulked at her disinterest but Valentino Lombardi had never been a lesser man.
‘I thought you might like to know that Ben’s condition has stabilised.’
‘Oh!’ She glanced up quickly, her tight expression softening as it flooded with relief. ‘That’s good news! I’ve tried to ring Harry a few times but it keeps going to his message bank.’
Valentino supposed that if anyone knew what it was like to watch your child critically ill in an intensive care unit on life support, it was Peyton.
Alessandro had filled him in on her backstory before the wedding, mentioning McKenzie’s long stint in NICU and how she’d had a twin sister who hadn’t made it as well as her husband leaving.
It was a lot for one person to bear and his admiration for her grew.
‘I’ve invited everyone from the department for some drinks today after work. Kind of a get-to-know-the-team thing. Will you join us?’
She blinked, her soft expression morphing once again, a little frown nestling between her caramel brows. ‘Sorry.’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
Valentino quirked an eyebrow. ‘Can’t or won’t?’
She shook her head again. ‘Can’t.’
‘Who takes care of McKenzie when you work?’
‘My mother.’
‘I bet she wouldn’t mind you staying on for an extra hour.’
‘She wouldn’t,’ Peyton confirmed, her lips thinning.
‘But I do. My parents already do so much for me, it’s important that I don’t abuse that or encroach any more on their life than I already have.
’ Shooting him an impatient look, she continued.
‘I know that someone like you can’t possibly understand—’
Valentino laughed then, cutting her off. ‘Someone like me?’
He pushed out of the doorway and sauntered towards her, placing two hands on the desk where she was sitting. From his height advantage he could see the ridges of her prominent collarbones and no hint of lines beneath her work T-shirt that would indicate she was wearing a bra.
His unwavering gaze found hers and for a moment, she stared him down before easing back in her chair, creating more space. Valentino smiled a little at her concession, but it didn’t last long as she folded her arms and affected a bored expression.
‘You have this carefree, model-dating, jet-setting lifestyle. A clinic in London, symposiums all over the world clamouring for your expertise.’
She said it slowly as if he was a little dim, which Valentino found amusing, pressing his lips together so he wouldn’t smile at her attempt to insult his intelligence.
‘I am a mother. At the end of the work day I go home to my child. That’s what a parent does. Newsflash, Dr Lombardi, I even look forward to it because I miss her when I’m here. I don’t want to go for a drink.’
That’s what a parent does.
Valentino gripped the desk hard at her words, his amusement evaporating. She was wrong about him not understanding. There’d been a girl once, a long time ago. And, briefly, a baby. He frowned. He hadn’t thought about Daniella, about the baby that never was, in years.
Pushing off the desk lest the urge to speak about it overcame him, Valentino inclined his head slightly. ‘Suit yourself.’
She nodded then returned to her work, ignoring him, which stirred his amusement once more. Anyone would think she was protesting a little too much.
‘I was wondering,’ he said, his gaze on the top of her head, ‘if you’d had a chance to think over McKenzie’s operation?’
That made her look up even if she couldn’t quite meet his eye for a beat or two.
When she did it was with her chin raised and firmly jutted.
‘Yes, I have.’ Her grey gaze didn’t shy from his.
‘I apologise for my earlier carry-on. Obviously, my preference would be for Harry to do the operation but it would be stupid of me to delay further when I have the services of a world-class surgeon and a place on his Monday-morning list.’
Valentino regarded her for a long moment.
He could tell none of that had been easy for her to say.
He’d sensed from the day of their introduction that Peyton was a tightly coiled spring, just holding it all together, waiting for it all to fall apart again.
And when it had earlier today, it had knocked her off balance.
Temporarily.
She could have kept spiralling but she’d recovered and regrouped because she was, as she had just taken pains to point out, a mother. And that trumped everything. Clearly, McKenzie would always come first even if it meant she had to eat humble pie.
And if he hadn’t already admired the hell out of her, this would have done it for sure.
Valentino nodded, determined to make it as easy as possible. ‘That’s great. I guess I’ll see you Monday morning.’
‘Yes. About that…’ She paused for a moment before pushing to her feet. ‘I need to ask you something. A… favour.’
Valentino’s brows drew together. Her hands were clenched at her sides, hinting at her level of discomfort. Clearly, she didn’t want to ask him for anything. ‘Okay.’
‘I-want-to-be-in-there-with-McKenzie,’ she said all at once on a rush of pent-up air.
Valentino blinked, tamping down hard on his instant denial. No wonder she’d looked so hesitant – what she was asking was not exactly unethical but very definitely ill-advised. ‘Peyton.’
‘Not scrubbing in or anything,’ she rushed to assure. ‘Just… nearby. I’ll stand in the corner. You won’t even know I’m there.’
Searching her big grey eyes, Valentino saw the worry, the anxiety, the anguish. ‘Bella.’ He shook his head gently. ‘You know I can’t allow that.’
She shut her eyes, squeezing them tight. ‘Don’t. Don’t call me bella.’
He’d called her bella over and over that fateful night, an endearment he’d meant then and right now, but Valentino understood why she didn’t want to hear it today. ‘You need to be a mother on Monday,’ he murmured. ‘McKenzie needs you to be a mother.’
Her eyes flashed open, blazing defiance. ‘Harry would have allowed it.’
‘No.’ Valentino shook his head. He might not know Harry that well but he had no doubt where this was concerned. ‘He wouldn’t have.’
‘Please.’
Her grey gaze shimmered with tears, like headlights in fog, and her voice cracked, and Valentino wanted nothing more than to go around the other side of the desk and pull her into his arms. But he could see from the rigidity of her frame that she wouldn’t want his sympathy, that she was barely keeping it together.
He ground his feet into the carpet. ‘Do you trust me?’
‘Of course I do,’ she said, her voice choked. ‘It’s just that… I’ve always been by her side. I can’t bear the thought of her going through this momentous surgery all alone.’
Valentino nodded. ‘I know that must be hard, Peyton, but this is one of those times that you’ve got to let me do my job as a surgeon. Allow me to focus solely on McKenzie, not divide my attention. And when it’s over, you can do your job as the mum.’
Blinking back tears, Peyton looked him square in the eye. ‘Is this about the drinks?’
Valentino stilled, her implication smarting. His eyes narrowed as he tempered his words. ‘Really? That’s what you think?’
A tear slid from her eye, which made Valentino feel low even though he hadn’t been the one throwing around insults. ‘No. I’m sorry… I…’
He stepped towards her as another tear trekked down her cheek. ‘Peyton.’
Roughly dashing them away with one hand, she held out the other, warding him off. ‘No, stop.’ She shook her head. ‘Go. Just go, damn it!’
A wave of impotency slayed Valentino to the spot. It was clear Peyton was in a world of emotional pain but as much as the doctor in him urged him closer, the man knew she was barely holding it together and all she had left was her pride.
In so many ways he didn’t know this woman very well, but he did know that the last thing she wanted was to break down in front of him.
Clenching his fists, he nodded and said, ‘See you Monday.’
He left then without a backward glance the sound of her muted sobs following him until thankfully the outer sliding doors of the clinic shut behind him and there was silence.